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Kaleidoscope 2019 (1)

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By OneWithTheStars   |   Watch
3 11 49 (1 Today)
Published: June 15, 2019
An Insomniac's Dream - 07:43
    The convertible smoothly zipped down the lonely highway that hot summer day, the arid climate not housing much of any kind of vegetation in view, leaving a lot of rocky formations painting a long expanse of earthy hues.
    Gale relaxed back in his seat, situated on the right side of the back seat of the vehicle.  Letting the wind tease through his dark brown hair, he gazed momentarily at the moving landscape the further that Tyler drove the vehicle on.  Once the convertible had been repaired and some downtime was enjoyed, they had resumed their travels.  Nate had taken the front passenger’s seat for the time being, meaning that James had swapped places to take the left side of the back seat.  He was scrawnier than Nate, so that gave Gale’s imposing frame a bit more room, so he hadn’t minded.
    The sun was becoming slightly oppressive as it beat down from its zenith.  Maybe they should have had the top up during those precarious hours of the most intense sunlight, but he didn’t really concern himself with that.  He didn’t really take to memory the surroundings that his eyes leisurely glanced over, seeing what was before him, but finding nothing of interest to focus on.  James, on the other hand, was eagerly looking over the left side of the car, snapping few photos of the landscape.  Gale never understood James’s obsession with photography, but it wasn’t an annoying habit, so he tolerated it even when he thought James was focused too much on it.
    “Smile, big guy,” James suddenly remarked, drawing Gale’s face to him, just in time for a snap of the photo lens.
    “What was that even for?” Gale moodily inquired as he watched James lower the camera and glance at the image on the screen.
    “Because you’re sulking,” James responded, the grin then teasing over his lips as he egged on, “And I know why.”
    “I’m not sulking,” Gale merely responded.
    “Yes, you are,” James insisted, grinning even harder.  “You miss her.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” Gale countered, turning away from James’s beaming face to stare at the landscape once more.
    Nate, having remained his usual silent self, turned around in his seat to look at Gale.  “You’re sulking,” he affirmed, a hint of a smile on his own face; the situation before them was far too amusing for more than one party.
    Letting out an aggravated sigh as he propped his right up along the door’s frame, Gale narrowed his focus on Nate, but didn’t choose to say anything back to him.  “You’d think you two would know to leave well enough alone,” Gale growled.
    “You know they will not,” Tyler calmly responded, keeping his focus on the road.  “And for the record,” he furthered after a moment, glancing back at Gale through the rearview mirror, “you do miss her, even if you’re too stubborn to admit it.”  Gale merely narrowed his eyes as he redirected his focus toward the back of Tyler’s head, seeing a hint of a smirk even on his usually serious face.  “She gave you a run for your money.”
    It had been true, even Gale had to admit that.  But, he had enjoyed it, more than he wished to let on.  It didn’t matter; they had parted ways once the convertible had been fixed and he likely would never see her again.
    That thought actually stung a little and he didn’t understand why.
    “I like her,” James mused as he flipped through photos on his camera’s screen.  “She didn’t melt under the Gale charm,” he furthered, drawing Gale’s silent glare back to him.
    “Don’t even think you had a shot with her…” Gale countered gruffly, almost sounding territorial, which amused the other three guys all the more so, but they didn’t dare voice it.
    “Not interested, big guy,” James smarted with a dazzling smile, then resumed thumbing through his photos.  “Besides, she has once serious character flaw.”
    “And what would that be?” Gale inquired skeptically.
    “She’s totally into you,” James concluded, then turning his camera around, gave Gale a view of the image he had located.  Gale, his curiosity piqued, sat up from where he was moping and looked at the screen, the image displayed of one that James had taken of the three occupants in the back seat at the time—Nate, himself…and Kris.  It was during their banter where she really put him in his place, much to the delight of the others in the vehicle—Nate’s amusement was pretty obvious in the image—the two of them turned fully to face the other, smiles on their faces while her quips and his innuendos had escaped the both of their lips.  Gale just continued to stare at the image, a sudden pang of longing washing over him.  He immediately forced the feeling away as James took the camera from his hands, his job effectively done.  “Even if she didn’t want to admit it herself,” he added, a confident smile on his face, knowing he had gotten to Gale.
    “I didn’t know you took a photo of us,” was all Gale managed to get out after a moment, turning his gaze back toward the shifting landscape.
    “You two were pretty occupied,” Nate teasingly answered, more than amused at Gale’s present behavior.
    The conversation ebbed at that point; Gale kept his focus on the moving landscape of rock and soil for some time, wallowing a bit in the undefined emotions he was presently experiencing.
    Alright, so he did miss her.  More than he should.  But he wasn’t about to let any of his good friends know that, otherwise, he’d never hear the end of it.  Instead, he hoped that with any luck, his path would cross with hers again.
    Actually, he…knew they would.  It was all a matter of when.

The Ramifications of It All - 08:30
    The dissociation of matter before her still kept her from speaking in the succeeding seconds.  Marcy couldn’t fathom that, even after viewing it firsthand, the simple deconstruction of molecules had occurred on the nearby platform, only to be reassembled several yards away on the platform across the room.
    It had been a simple apple.  There had been no parlor tricks or magician’s sleight of hand; a simple energy beam had engulfed the apple on the platform from above.  She had even watched the molecules slowly fading out, a more gradual disappearance than an immediate effect.  Slowly they had reassembled on the twin platform on the other side of the room.
    The applause from the other spectators privy to the experiment drew her from her shock and wonder.  Joining in, she clapped her hands with disbelief and a smile breaking out over her face.
    The teleportation pads were officially a success.
    But the lingering question in her mind wouldn’t budge.  What did this mean for living beings?  For their souls?  She knew the inevitable quest would be to teleport humans, but…what would the ramifications be?  Unlike most of her fellow scientists, she still believed in such notions as souls and an ethereal realm of existence just outside of their detection.  I mean, she had to.
    Half of the people in the room were spirits, those of scientists past that had worked on projects such as the teleportation pads, just as thrilled to see the progress as those of the living.  Unfortunately, only she could see them, making the room far more crowded for her than anyone else, yet she felt lonelier than ever, never being able to admit the things she saw that the others could not.
    Science couldn’t prove them, so they didn’t exist.  That was the mindset, after all.

Transcendence - 08:58
    “Beyond the door awaits your every dream,” the mysterious man before me said.  “All you have to do…is open it.”
    My skepticism still gripped me while I stared at the peculiarly dressed man.  He was tall, but not that tall—just enough to be an inch higher than myself—and he was dressed too sharp for anyone of my present time and society.  It made me wonder who—or what—he really was, and was he just projecting himself in this image to gain my trust.
    That was how jaded I had become with life; always mistrusting of anyone that offered me any kind of assistance, great or small.  After all, being burnt on more than one occasion for being too trusting of others and helpful toward them had made experience dictate my judgment.  It was sad really; I’d be considered too gullible and kind by others in present society, even though my mindset was the way one should behave while those that took advantage of it should have been the ones shamed and looked down upon.  But no, today’s society blamed the victim and not the bully, even when it said it didn’t; it was all a matter of convenience for those doing the finger pointing, whether it would get them noticed as an advocate or an annoyance.
    This man who called himself Ramone seemed to understand that and so much more about me.  “You have been hurt for too long, it seems,” he then said, a hint of sympathy and regret laced in his voice’s rich tone.
    “You can read me that well?” I questioned with my usual cynicism.
    “I’m sorry I couldn’t reach you sooner, but you see, there are rules,” he explained, though not really explaining at the same time.  If he had explained all that he was offering, he wouldn’t have left anything to my imagination.
    Allowing my imagination to interpret his cryptic words was a classic technique by those manipulative souls to allow the mark to interpret their words as one thing, but they really meant another, an angle that benefited themselves while harming the mark simultaneously.  The worst part was those manipulative souls knew what they were doing, knew they would be misinterpreted, and fully took advantage of that loophole.
    That’s what I felt I was walking right into, a loophole, if I fully trusted this guy.  I warily watched him for another moment as he stood by the door before us, silently watching me.  Something in my expression must have told him the depths of my despair, for letting out a breath, he reached toward me, taking my hand in his while his other hand took hold of the doorknob and twisted it.  Flinging the door open to reveal the light pouring forth, with a yelp from my lips, he had me lurching forward and falling through the ethereal gateway, his voice muttering as I went into the light, “Sometimes people need a nudge into their destiny.”

Kiss of Death - 09:35
    The two armor-clad figures remained on their horses perched atop the ridge as the early sun began to peer over the horizon.  Something spooked Grayson’s horse, it suddenly whinnying and becoming restless.  With a quick draw of the reins, he got his steed under control.
    Danielle moved her horse up beside him, the two of them staring out over the sprawl of the land.  It seemed so peaceful in that early morning light, a warm, radiant glow teasing along the ridges of the vegetation that skirted the city in the distance before them.
    Their mission was dangerous, but the two had made it through worse, particularly saving Brace from the empire’s gallows.  Queen Alexandria had been captured despite Grayson’s best efforts to protect her, but he had simply been outnumbered and outmatched.  Just as they likely would be today, which they both were well aware of.  Unfortunately, Delendia no longer possessed the military forces to challenge the empire, the Delendian Order of Knights crippled in the invasions.  It meant that, like so many other ventures as of late, they had to take armies on alone, relying on swiftness and the element of surprise than brute force.  Danielle, for better or worse, had been an expert at covert operations; after all, she had hidden her gender to enter into the Order, deceiving her commanding officer, Grayson, in the process.
    Grayson mused upon those thoughts as he remained there, studying the city before them, the citadel they would have to break into just to find Queen Alexandria.  Then they would somehow have to escape.  The odds…weren’t in their favor.  As he faced down his own prospective death, knowing he was likely taking the one person he trusted more than anyone else in toward the same fate, there was no one else he would have rather had by his side in that moment.  He almost laughed, something uncharacteristic for him, at the thought of trying to leave her behind.  Danielle would have disobeyed any order to remain behind he would have given, thrown herself into the fire with or without him by her side.  In the end, he preferred her by his side, regardless of the circumstances.  He thought she understood that, but he realized that he had never told her exactly how he felt, even after he had hunted her down and made amends for the terrible things he had said to her before during their falling out.
    “If we don’t make it out alive,” he eventually said softly, letting the wind carry his words to her, “there is something I have to tell you now, before it’s too late.”
    “And what would that be, Captain—” she began, turning her gaze to him.
    Before she could finish, he had grabbed onto the reins of her horse, drawing the steeds to one another fully and enabling him to swiftly lean in and embrace her lips with his.
    Their kiss lingered over the morning air, the breeze slipping past them the longer they remained conjoined, the reciprocation from Danielle making it harder for Grayson to withdraw, wishing that the moment would never end, knowing that quite possibly, this was their end.
    Eventually, the necessity to part weighed heavily enough upon them to bring about their separation.  He watched the lone tear escape from her right eye and wished more than anything he could just pull her into his arms, forget what they were about to do.  Instead, he elected to quietly vow, “And if by some miracle that we do make it out, I’m never letting you go again.”

Buried Alive - 10:29
    J’kari sat in the end of the one tunnel that reached far away from the underground village that his parents and others had carved out over the past years, developing what they best could in the subterranean caverns, given the circumstances.  Idly kicking at a pebble that was near the rock he found himself perched on, this was a place he liked to come to when he wished to be alone.
    That was one of the problems now living underground; there was no privacy, not like before when allowed to be on the surface.  But Di-Meihn and the Ar’Zhen had changed all that when they had invaded, destroying the surface world and slaughtering so many of the native Iolehan peoples.  Retreating underground had been their only means of survival, but the young teen couldn’t help but wonder if it really was that much better.  Artificial light had to be pumped through the interlocking veins of power stones that had been forged to shine with a bit of electrical current, far more efficient than all methods that had been devised while still safe to exist upon the surface of Ioleh.  Still, it didn’t compare to the sunlight—something he could distinctly remember those days he’d be playing outside.
    Now, where he presently sat, was one of the air vents that ensured that the air circulation kept a healthy level of oxygen filtering in naturally along with the generators in the deepest regions not even close to the vents in the outskirt tunnel shafts.  He looked up at it, embracing the slivers of sunlight that pierced through the grate at just the right angle, feeling the warmth along the patches of skin blessed enough to experience the sensation.
    Three years had gone by since the Fall, and for three years, they had survived underground.  Producing just enough food to sustain the colony at its present size, many of the inhabitants were involved with caring and producing food or refining the ground water from the wells dug in the northern sprawl of the tunnels.  What individuals weren’t tied up in the sustenance of the colony found themselves either in mining and engineering roles or scientific roles.  They hadn’t lost their technology completely—and in some aspects, they had improved it, like with the power stones—but for what advancements that the Iolehans had achieved now, the painful fact remained that they were banished from the surface lest they wished for an Ar’Zhen death squadron to slaughter them.
    Still, it didn’t stop him from dreaming of going to the surface once more, even fantasizing of enacting revenge on the alien species that had nearly wiped out his own.  And as he looked up at the simple grate thirty or so feet above him, he felt it taunting him to reach out and knock it open, to step out into the light once more.  But that grate, it might as well have been miles above him, for as out of reach that longing truly was for him.

The Pain of Longing - 11:03
    Tygon lied back upon his lavish bed, but it might as well have been a bed of thorns, the angst in his veins keeping him from even a remote chance at relaxing.  The entire day, he had performed his duties as Dreamcrafter without flaw, the imperial court remarkably impressed with the extent of his refined powers.
    A gift, it was truly a gift, more than one party had told him.  It was a talent that he had refined and honed without second thought, considering it his duty to perform dreamscapes for audiences, whether high or low, and to further push his own abilities to traverse the ethereal realm.  He had discovered so much in his most recent years, and he had thought his life complete, but as his brother Benai had so expertly pointed out, he could see a light fading from his eyes through the years.  Tygon tried to convince himself otherwise, but in his heart of hearts, he knew how right his brother had been.
    Benai had also picked up on something new with his older brother in the last weeks, something that was both rekindling the long dormant gleam in his eyes while simultaneously making him restless.  And of course, being the mischievous, yet loveable younger brother that he was, Benai did not rest until he presumably discovered the source of Tygon’s changes, and now made it a point to razz his uptight brother on occasion about it, the rigid Dreamcrafter rather easily embarrassed about such things, for it was such a novel feeling for him that he didn’t even quite understand it.
    Benai kept telling him that it was love.  He still didn’t believe his brother, but even Benai couldn’t blame him.  Tygon had never shown even a shard of romantic interest in another individual among his species, so he had never known or understood what the emotion of romantic love really was.  Sure, he felt plenty of love for others—both familial and platonic—but this, this was new.  And so very confusing, as it put him on edge at times, yet at others, was nearly a sniveling mess, lamenting as he was at present upon his bed, longing for something he still didn’t wholly understand.
    Romantic love, if that’s what this was, was an incredibly draining emotional experience.  And frustrating, so very and terribly frustrating.
    Turning over onto his side, he groaned out as he faced the darkness of the interior of his room, a couple shards of silvery moonlight managing to pass through the overcast night sky and filter through the window across from the foot of his bed.
    She had said…her name was Tina.  But he couldn’t be sure that was her real name.  It often happened in the ethereal plane; individuals took on many different identities and appearances.  He had done so in particular in his encounters with the furless woman, choosing to present in a similarly hairless form such as hers so as not to frighten her off or make her vanish from the ethereal realm altogether.
    He could tell her abilities to traverse the ethereal realm while sleeping wasn’t a controlled ability and anything little he might do could have upset her.  That first encounter, she had been particularly vulnerable, he had sensed, and just observed her from afar, almost mesmerized at her own conjuring abilities she had no clue she possessed, and the draw it had on more than just himself.  Eventually, he had taken a form similar to her and gotten the courage to interact with her, never revealing his true appearance and each time coming up with a new name for himself, secretly relishing the cerebral connection they shared, as she would always be able to pick him out of a crowd and be drawn to him.
    That memory drew a hint of a smile to trace along his lips while he remained curled up on his side, and in that brief moment of happiness, Tygon fell asleep, hoping for another chance encounter with the one who called herself Tina.

Oliver's Redemption - 11:57
    The caw of the nearby crow drew my gaze over toward it, it calling out a couple more times before staring at me peculiarly, then flew off.  I listened to a couple more of its brethren call out over the trees, listening to their distinct language I did not understand.  Crows were remarkably intelligent, and particularly ominous.
    Somehow, also, I knew it was an omen from her.  My heart, it momentarily stopped in my chest, the irony of it not escaping me as I stood there in solitude upon that lonely and rocky hilltop, just at the base of which I sought.
    For one night, she had enabled me to forget my loneliness, made me feel worthy of love.  I knew her empathic powers had made her susceptible, but for that one night, I forgot my own sorrows.  It had turned out, I had made her forget hers, something I hadn’t comprehended at the time…only for me to unintentionally hurt her in the aftermath.  I never meant to hurt her and my own weaknesses allowed for what transpired to have occurred.  She held no blame with me for the actions I had taken, but I did; I should have been stronger.  If I had been stronger, none of this would have happened and I would never had hurt her so greatly.
    Her pain had become my own to harbor, for I realized the emotional bond that we unwittingly forged ran in both directions—I was an empath and so wholly connected to her, she could not shield her innermost feelings from me, even when she tried to now that she had developed control over the emotion transferences.  It was why…I had left her behind to come here.  I did not want her sharing in the trials I was about to put myself under; they were mine to bear and if I could make it out alive, I would be a better warrior, a better person, and a better man.
    She deserved a better man than what I was.
    And yet, there were the crows, following me to my present location.  She respected the distance I wished to place between the two of us, but she was there, in spirit so to speak, supporting my decision, as heart wrenching as it must have bene for her to accept the moment she woke up alone.
    Facing upward toward the massive mountain peak that disappeared in a layer of clouds high above me, I affirmed my resolve.  Slipping the edges of my cape over my armored shoulders to keep it from getting in my way, I then fastened the spear I had brought with myself to my back, freeing my arms to begin my dangerous ascent to the mountain top where I would face my greatest enemy and hopefully defeat him.
    My own self.

An Ocean's Might - 12:26
    Why, why did this happen?
    I couldn’t stop that nagging voice in my head as I careened like a speck of dust in the mighty tide of the ocean waters, the thunder booming violently and with regular frequency.  I choked as I routinely took an involuntary swallow of saltwater amidst my flailing to keep my head above the surface.  The shafts of lightning would illuminate the night, giving me the teasing glimpses of the somewhat nearby rocky outcropping in the water.
    Relatively speaking.
    It certainly didn’t feel nearby as I tried in vain to swim through the upheaving nocturnal tides to get to the nearest one and finally pull myself from these wretched waters.  The hurricane had blindsided us during the middle of the night, the ship was capsized and destroyed, its mighty wooden hull no match for the gale-force winds and writhing oceanic mass that easily swallowed it whole.
    Traveling so vast a distance around the Cape of Storms had always been treacherous, but the several times I had sailed with a crew upon its seas, never once had I met the foul weather it had been known for.  Until tonight.  Now, the ship was dragged to the sea’s bottom and the undertow had caught what few members of the crew that survived the initial capsizing.  For all I knew, I was the only survivor and that was purely by either chance, luck, or grit.
    Another thunderous echo tore the very sky apart, a shaft of lightning so violent streaked across the sky.  I prayed in that moment one of those bolts wouldn’t find the water, otherwise, I might have been a goner.  Paddling as hard as I could through the raging waters, I choked and gasped for air with each moment my head bobbed and broke the surface, demanding more of my body than it wished to allow as the fire in my muscles screamed from the anaerobic exertion.
    I groaned out as with a thud, I collided into something hard and unmoving.  Latching on as if my life depended upon it—which it did—my fingers bled as I dug firmly into the bedrock of the rocky projection before being assaulted by another wave of ocean water crashing against my cold and trembling body.
    Choking for air as the water receded and left me hanging pathetically to that lifesaving rock, I continued to weather the assault as the fire died in my muscles and I could at last catch a breath.  With more ornery thunder rumbling overhead and intense lightning to keep lighting up the waters to make the whitecaps visible, I realized I had to find a more secure hold to my rocky life preserver and with some effort, I slipped around it between the cresting waves and at last found the subtlest of recesses on the opposing side where I crouched into and hunkered down in.  The rock now taking the brunt of the watery assault, I shivered in place as the sea’s frigid temperatures began to get to me, shielded from its ruthless beatings hopefully for the duration of the hurricane.
    I don’t know how, perhaps it was the exhaustion or the shock, but I fell asleep.
    When I regained consciousness, the ocean had returned to its complacent self, the hurricane having passed during the night.  The call of seagulls could be heard overhead while shimmering diamonds of sunlight reflected upon the waters now tempered to mere ripples.  Easing myself out of my crouch hole, I stretched my aching muscles in a vain attempt to warm them up, preparing them for what they must have known inevitable.
    My eyes glanced across the remaining (relatively) small stretch of water that separated me from the beach I saw before me.  Taking in a deep breath, I jumped from the rocky protection that had guarded me through the night, then welcomed the fire in my muscles as I swam toward shore, finally feeling it safe enough to say to myself: I survived.

That One Time (Reader x Fandom Character Romance!) - 13:10
    It was late, that much you knew.  You stared at the ceiling in the bedroom, unable to fall asleep, as you had too much running through your mind.
    How could you not?  So much had happened in the last twelve hours, your brain was still trying to catch up to literally all that had transpired and where you presently found yourself.
    You had known him since childhood, known the real him.  Not just the façade he put out there for others to see, that tough exterior in order to make it on the streets.  No, you knew that tender interior that he never let anyone else see, the side of him that would enjoy a meadow of flowers and not think twice about taking a moment to pause and smell their fragrance in the air, the side of him that cared so deeply for those he let in close enough and would fiercely do anything for.
    You both had grown up in the countryside—maybe that’s why he liked the flowers—but in time, each of you had moved to the big city in an attempt to make it on your own with wide-eyed prospects written in the glittering night lights of the cityscape.
    But that’s not what happened for either of you.  You were now broke and looking for yet another job, as whatever you came across, it was never permanent.  He on the other hand had fallen in with the wrong crowd—gangs mostly—and he had begun doing what he referred to as “unsavory” things.  You suspected petty theft, but you weren’t about to question the one person that had given you shelter now that you were living on the street.
    It was your reconnection with him that morning, purely by chance, that had made the both of you wake up to the truth of the matter—your feelings for one another and his desperation to break away from his underworld ties.
    He was beside you presently, sleeping soundly from exhaustion from all that transpired earlier, your hair falling gently about the both of your shoulders while your adjacent hands remained clenched together, fingers entwined in a subconscious effort to never let go now that you had found each other once more.
    The two men that had attacked you earlier, they were part of his gang.  They had tried to get you in order to get to him, someone they now perceived as a threat now that he was trying to break away from them.  You had tried to fend them off on your own, but you were no match for their combined efforts, only he had found you in time and without so much as a second thought, he had killed them both.  It had frightened you, how ruthless he could be with another’s life, however, you hadn’t had much time to ponder the gruesome sight as he took you by the hand and the two of you had fled through the back alleyways and along rooftops in the rundown district, desperate to put distance between you and any other members of his former gang that would try to hunt you down.
    Squirreling away in an abandoned building, the two of you had hidden for the past few hours, him trying to reassure you as the shock of witnessing the murders began to finally set in, the two of you eventually embracing everything that existed between you both that had gone unacknowledged until that fateful morning.
    You loved him and not just that platonic regard that you had shared as children, but it had evolved down the path toward romance and happily, he felt the same way.  Despite the terror of the past hours and the dangers that would likely be waiting for you both outside those walls when you two made the run for the train, escaping the city completely, no matter what transpired in those next hours, you promised yourself you would hold onto that one time when he said, “I love you,” and meant every word.

Breathing Life - 13:58
    The canvas is a cage.  What she does is bridge worlds.
    To take the paint upon her pallet and with the brush, she places her smooth strokes.  It’s not to create an image, but rather, unmask the image of whatever is imprisoned within both her mind and the canvas.
    She can connect, even see what lies on the other side before it reveals itself through her methodical strokes along the canvas, washing away the bland, off-white fabric stretched into submission upon the wooden frame.
    What was trapped there, it shall be free once more, to feel the light of the sun and see the glow of the moon.  Tirelessly, she paints her strokes upon the canvas surface, humming a soft melody only she knows through her sealed lips, her eyes remaining focused upon the images that come before her.
    And soon, her brush, much as a key, unlocks the cage confining the contents, releasing them from their imprisonment in the void to usher forth into the world.  The ravens’ wings begin to flap, stirring currents of air about her as their feathery bodies still remain trapped.  Still, she continues, banishing the blandness of the canvas to reveal the colors lurking underneath and soon, the first raven escapes, calling out with thanks as it soars throughout the vast cathedral she sits alone in, hundreds of darkened canvases lining the walls of stone and painted glass.  She does not turn from her perch as she continues to paint, raven after raven bursting forth from the canvas until scores of them inhabit the cathedral.
    It is when the final raven comes forth and the canvas has become the black of night that she at last sets her brush down and relaxes on her seat.  She is fatigued, but she is happy.  Rising from her seat, she moves across the great hall toward the front doors, slowly pushing the heavy door open.  Immediately, the ravens congregate and fly from the opening and into the sunlight, gracing the world with their power and beauty.  She stands there for a moment and smiles a weary smile, pleased to have accomplished her arduous task.
    In time, she retreats from the doorway, closing the door behind her and sealing herself in once more.  Taking hold of the blackened canvas, she moves to the side wall and places it amidst the hundreds of others that had come before it.  Returning to her easel, she sits down upon her chair once more and leaning down, she takes the next canvas in hand, blank and barren, then picking up her pallet and brush, she begins anew.
    She will never rest, until she shines her light on the worlds within.
© 2019 - 2020 OneWithTheStars
~Saturday, June 15, 2019~

The collection of flash fictions written for submission to :icondamonwakes:'s Flash Fiction Day 2019.  I'm so excited that I am off work today, as I can push myself to break my current record held in 2017 of nineteen flash fics, only this time, not to fall into any micro fics.  I hope this collection is a joy to read.  :)  Due to the fact that I wrote so much and it put me over the submission word limit, this is broken down into two sections (Part 2 is here).  And as always, the stories will appear also as separate deviations formatted in sta.sh for easier reading and a bit more detail regarding them in the descriptions.

Update 1: Happily, four flash fics completed, but time to take a hopefully short break do care for some things around the house and reset my emotions after writing that fourth one with Grayson and Danielle.

Update 2: Another two completed, but my stomach will not shut up, so it is lunch break time.

Update 3: Ten flash fics completed and I'm feeling a little sleepy (I woke up super early today), so I'm taking a breather.  But I'm halfway toward breaking my record from 2017 and haven't fallen into any micro fictions yet, so hopefully I can keep going after a little recharge.

Update 4: Whoops to taking an over hour-long nap, but foggy brain managed a couple more flash fictions, but now it's time to break for dinner, etc.  I'm hoping I can keep going through the evening to meet my goal.

Update 5:Well, I'm three quarters to my goal, but the fourteenth story is the magical one that broke my stride (and psyche), but I'm limping on.  I'm also impressed it took the fourteenth story to reach this point.

Update 6:I did it; with just less than half an hour left, I officially beat my record from 2017 and completed twenty flash fics (and no micro fics).  :faint:

Comments11
anonymous's avatar
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WindySilver's avatar
WindySilverHobbyist Writer
Fantastic stories! Excellent work with getting all of these done in the same day!
OneWithTheStars's avatar
OneWithTheStarsHobbyist General Artist
Thank you!  I had the day off, so I made it my mission.  :P
WindySilver's avatar
WindySilverHobbyist Writer
You're welcome! :)
MegapixelMasterpiece's avatar
MegapixelMasterpieceHobbyist General Artist
You've been busy so far, Gale, teleportation, cryptic nudges and Knights! All a pleasure to read.
I saw your post about suggestions and as soon as I read the teleportation one and the knight one I was like "I so would have suggested those" 
I hope you're having fun. Good luck for the rest of the day! :huggle:
I'll keep popping back to read more 
OneWithTheStars's avatar
OneWithTheStarsHobbyist General Artist
Yes, Gale just HAD to make an appearance.  :P

I am having fun so far, though to be honest, I was having a hard time getting going and I've been using my Prose-ject 2019 prompts to get me moving.  Now, I might be able to get some independent works going that don't need a prompt to kick me into motion.  ^^;
MegapixelMasterpiece's avatar
MegapixelMasterpieceHobbyist General Artist
I just came back to read the next ones after Kiss of death, you're doing amazing!
I really enjoyed The Pain of Longing especially who's perspective it was written from and Oliver's story is very deep with that battle against himself.

Oh yes, don't forget to eat and stay hydrated! 
OneWithTheStars's avatar
OneWithTheStarsHobbyist General Artist
lol, I am on my fourth 16-oz glass of water and had a glass of milk on top of that.  And I had a high calorie lunch purely out of indulgence.  I should be good.  :P
MegapixelMasterpiece's avatar
MegapixelMasterpieceHobbyist General Artist
Haha, I knew you would be but I meant to mention it in my note but forgot, then saw your second update and had to say. 
You're Reader x Fandom Character Romance one was definitely not written by a 10-year-old lol I liked it and Breathing Life was so beautifully written I loved that idea and how you expressed it! 
OneWithTheStars's avatar
OneWithTheStarsHobbyist General Artist
Yeah, I got super hungry by 10:30 this morning because I was up since 5:30 and had eaten my breakfast of toast by 6:30.  I knew it would happen, but I made myself go until 11:00 for lunch so I wouldn't get too hungry for dinner until around 17:00.

Now that my "I have to rest for a bit" turned into just over an hour long nap, I'm trying to wake my brain back up for more writing.
MegapixelMasterpiece's avatar
MegapixelMasterpieceHobbyist General Artist
I managed to keep my eyes open long enough to read some more. Drifting apart felt very familiar indeed. The one you knew that got away gave me major Déjà vu about halfway through, even the thought of the tiredness I’m feeling, that sense of I’ve lived this moment before was very strong.
Okay to sleep for me, Good luck for the rest of the day, I’ll come back and check the rest when my eyes are open again tomorrow
OneWithTheStars's avatar
OneWithTheStarsHobbyist General Artist
I had a feeling you'd relate to Drifting Apart:hug:

The One You Never Knew That Got Away, that was personal experiences sadly enough and it broke my writing stride.  Grr.

Until tomorrow. :)
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