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FFM10 2019 - Fireside Tales
    When the fog rolled in off the moor and danced in ghostly forms along the streets, the townsfolk stayed inside.    All, that is, except for the rangers whose work it was to roam the moor and keep the roads safe for travellers. There, around their own fires, they told their own stories. Stories that echoed those of the townsfolk, but with that extra solid realness those indoor hearths could never conjure.    “I saw them once,” old Bernard said, breaking his customary silence when a pause between tales grew too long for comfort.    They didn’t need to ask who ‘them’ was. All tales on told on the moor in t
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FFM4 2019 - There Was An Old Wizard...
    The Tiny Wizard muttered to himself as he went about his duty.    “Hush, baby Sycamore, you don’t want to grow there.” He eased the seedling with its two tender curled leaves from a crack in the wall. “Let me find you a more suitable home.”    “Oh Nettle, no! You’re choking the poor flowers!” He rushed to clear a space, trimming back leaves and bending stems to let in the light. Hardly had he finished that task when another presented itself. He dashed from plant to plant, pruning, watering, and plucking aphids from their leaves.    When evening came, he packed his tools away and called
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FFM3 2019 - The Things You See Too Late
    The scene resolved itself into a kind of optical illusion; like M.C. Escher’s famous stairs, at first glance perfectly normal – but then the oddities started to appear.    The serving maid’s wrist was a shade too masculine for the dress she – they – wore, and the gold watch upon it too expensive for their station. Then there was the old woman, dressed in black mourning dress, who started when she encountered her husband alive and healthy at the breakfast table sipping tea and reading the news.    She checked the clock on the mantelpiece then, as if an afterthought, checked for dust. She frowned for too lo
Critmas 2018: Tannenbaum Trebuchet
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Critmas 2018: Poinsettia Pikes
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Critmas 2018: Mistletoe Bow
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Critmas 2018: Holly Hand Grenade
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Cassandra Candycorn
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Ducktober 19: Scorched
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Collision Course
    “Face it – we’re doomed.”    Helorum groaned and thunked his head against the wall, sending a shudder through the control room.    Cactus glared at him, then at me. “No, we’re not.”    A hopeful look from Helorum.    “We’re just going to crash into a planet.”    Groan. Thunk. Shudder.    “Oh yeah,” I said. “Crashing. Totally not doomed… We’re just all going to die.”    Thunk. Shudder.    A powercell rattled off its charging rack and crashed to the floor.    Groan. Thunk.    “Will you stop that?!” Cactus snapped.
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Look Before You Leap
    Being cautious didn’t exactly fit George. He immediately jumped, killed, landing maladroitly.    Now Oliver paused – quite rightly so. They understood, vaulting without xir yonder zone appraised, brings catastrophic death.    Enshrine forever George, his ill-conceived jump, know, lest memory not offer protection. Quote rigorous studies telling us; value waiting.
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For the Love of No-fur
    So small, so scrawny, this man pup. His stubby legs, his tiny hands with no strength in his grip. All wrinkly skin and no fur in sight. Yet this warmth in my chest! My own pups – bold and strong – then him, so shy, so slight.    But so bright. His wit a star for them all. No-fur and fur; pink, black, brown and tan; a right pack of scamps.    The trash can? The work top? No high spot past his grasp. No child lock past his skill and my pups’ claws. Then tasty crumbs for all. The band of imps at play.    Many months on. Most of my pups far from me in new lands with new folks now. Only black pup for me. Black pup, and
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Thank You for Your Patience
    “We’re experiencing high call volume, please hold the line.”    Time trickled through the hourglass to the strains of smooth jazz. Sands blown across the wasteland.    “We apologise… the delay… Please hold.”    Crackling static, cracked dry lips.    “Please hold.”    The phone hissed its message:    “…soon as an operator… available… your call.”    Clenched in bleached bone fingers.
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Caught in a Bind
    It was eleven o’clock in the morning and the tea trolley still hadn’t arrived.    Jessica was striding the aisles between desks – a managerial tactic meaning ‘I have nothing useful to do but don’t dare appear idle.’ Albert was hammering away with his hole punch with enough gusto that Dave and Claire had decided it wasn’t safe to remain in the vicinity. They had taken shelter behind a nearby desk and were holding a whispered conversation.    “What’s his problem? He’ll smash right through that desk soon.”    Dave’s own hole punch made a much more subdued ‘th
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On Sin
    Another day in Heaven passed much like all those before, and all those yet to come. Not that nothing ever happened there; more that everything that did happen, happened in such an abstract, distant sort of way as far as the main residents were concerned as to not really matter.    Days merged one into another.    Hours flew past at the pace of a snail riding the great winged Pegasus. In each moment, a crawling, unbearable monotony; yet then a century would pass in the blink of an eye.    Slow.    Fast.    It was the realm of both the eternal God, and the mortal man.    Now God created man, in his image, or so it is said, but h
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Collision Course
    “Face it – we’re doomed.”    Helorum groaned and thunked his head against the wall, sending a shudder through the control room.    Cactus glared at him, then at me. “No, we’re not.”    A hopeful look from Helorum.    “We’re just going to crash into a planet.”    Groan. Thunk. Shudder.    “Oh yeah,” I said. “Crashing. Totally not doomed… We’re just all going to die.”    Thunk. Shudder.    A powercell rattled off its charging rack and crashed to the floor.    Groan. Thunk.    “Will you stop that?!” Cactus snapped.
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Recipe for Disaster
My Darling, Maris Piper, light of my life, apple of my earth, best beloved wife. I hope this final letter finds you well… ~~~    It had seemed like a simple job at the outset. A straight-forward, by-the-book operation. I collected our orders, and gathered the crew for briefing.    “Onion? Good lad. You’re going in first – straight through the front door. It might get a bit dicey, but you’re a big lad; you can handle it.    “Red Belle Pepper, I want you in next. I want you to get their attention any way you can – you’re the distraction. Keep peppering them with questions, or whatever it t
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On Fashion and Philosophy
    “To Marduk, by whose great victory we stand here today, I offer this libation.”    “To the clouds, who bring the rain for our crops.”    “To the principles of logic, which govern the very laws of nature upon which our society is built.”    Makarios intercepted the bowl before it reached his younger brother, Anakletos. He filled it to the brim with wine, and raised it high above his head to pour his libation in long steady stream. His voice was loud and clear.“To Zeus, the finisher – as it was ever meant to be. May he hear and disregard your heresies as the prattlings of children who kn
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The Computer Graveyard
    The server building was a concrete block from a bygone era, sunk into the grass on the wrong side of the airstrip for civilization.      I pulled my coat tighter and tucked in my chin. Across the runway, the windsock made a perfect right angle with its pole – and there was no shelter on this side of the building. I thought of the hotel bar that waited for me as soon as today’s work was done, and silently urged Sean to hurry with the door.    Then with a clang, the last bolt slid clear. Sean gripped the handle with both hands and a foot braced against the frame and before I could step forwards to help, he’d given it an
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Hard Labour
    Your crime? A stolen string of onions. A loaf of bread. The cost of your upkeep upon parents who couldn’t even afford their own. What does it matter?    The treadmill creaks and rumbles round, each step weighted down by too many sins to count. A never-ending stairway to heaven, you do your time in purgatory before your strength gives out and you inevitably fall.    Faces grey, drained of life, all colour leached out from your back by the lash to stain the gravel you’ll only have to scrub again tomorrow, and tomorrow becomes a meaningless litany of the same clothes, the same grub, and the same weary toil.    Only Sunday p
That Pink Ribbon
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The Swan in the Evening
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Harvey
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80
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Toddy the Cat
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First Impressions
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Ringwraiths on motorcycles
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Warframe Awakening
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Puppies
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The Red Deer
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Ducktober 19: Breakable
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Ducktober 19: Scorched
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Inktober 3: (T)roasted
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Stirring Instrument
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Pyrography Foal
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Birb and Dragon Eggs
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Chopping Peppers
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Ewok you lookin' at?
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Wooden Owl Eggs
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Bruno - Stem Cell Donor Appeal, please read
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GDeyke's Dragon
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Cassandra Candycorn
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Red Dragon for Hammond13
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Green Dragon for BATTLEFAIRIES
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Dragon for SinistrosePhosphate
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Green Dragon for ThornyEnglishRose
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Dragon's Hoard
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Chainmail pumpkin
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Chainmail Butterflies
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'Folded Cross' bracelet
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FFM Day 4 - The House Who Loved Nothing
No one left bowls of milk by the hearth anymore. The house sat empty, silent and stone cold. The vacancy of the house ached inside her; she sobbed with creaking boards and screamed with the wind howling through her chimney. She existed to nurture and preserve life. She now held nothing but wishbones and cold ashes. And a brownie, named Charm. When the child entered the house, she expected to find people sleeping. Child of rags, she was a filth smeared human who knew enough to hide from big men and little men alike.  The house was cold, dark, but dry, and thanks to Charm, the roof was properly thatched, the shutters mended, and logs in the fi
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FFM 2019 Day 16: Home Isn't Always Sweet
   Lucien knocked back the rest of his drink and let out a chuckle interlaced with hiccups.  “Ah, man.  It’s good to have you back, Leon.  Just like old times, eh?”   Lyanna twitched at the nudge of her brother’s elbow and fixed her stare on her barely sipped ale.  “Mhm.”   “You sure you can’t stay longer?  Mom ‘n Dad want you to, I can tell.” The legs of his stool clacked against the floor as he swayed.  She wasn’t sure if he’d had four mugs or five.  “Can’t say I disagree.”   “Absolutely sure.  I have components to collect and a time frame
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FFM 7: Chili
It was a simple mistake: the witch had used her potions pot for cooking. She wandered about her kitchen as the liquid boiled in the pot. Chopping up vegetables and measuring spices made her feel productive. With each ingredient she added to the pot, the chili gained awareness. It wasn't quite sure what its purpose was yet. The chili waited patiently as the ingredients started to mix together and the flavors mingled. It was to warm those who consumed it, the chili thought. Warm them and fill them out. The second mistake the witch made was that she had written the wrong amount of hot peppers to add to the chili. She frowned in concern at th
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FFM Day 1 - reconstruction
Examiner 301 peers closely at the bones. A partially intact jawbone, with jutting teeth, sits next to the assembled shards of the cranium. And just down the table from hollow sockets, staring endlessly, a spine, pelvis, fingers, femur, and seven of nine toes. Fractures, like spiderwebs, beautiful. Proof of violence. Validation for ascendance. Her own fingers fall over the shards in a light caress. She marvels at their roughness, their imperfections, the delicate fracture lines mapped into the bones before her-- they would take her breath away, had she any breath. Inside the skull, a gleaming silicon remnant, an old Bio-ID chip. “I w
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A Welcome Relief
"I hear they're ten feet tall and can spit acid!" Brenda gossiped to her friend on the bench beside her. "No way! I heard they're the same size as us, so they can disguise themselves easier. Bet the acid thing's true though. I once met a guy who'd actually survived a fight with one of them and half his face was all melted!" Hamza responded with enthusiasm, gesturing wildly as he spoke. The two of them had been sat there for a few minutes now and they didn't look to be going anywhere anytime soon. They were the first folk Gabrielle had seen all morning that weren't otherwise preoccupied or rushing off somewhere, and so the first that seemed
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The Slurping
Shhlllllllp. Shhhlllp. Shhhhlllllllllllp. There it was again. The slurping. Shin lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. For weeks, an untraceable slurping sound had haunted him. Sleep eluded him. He had gotten fired from his job, because of his sleep deprivation. His boyfriend had left him. The only constant in his life now was the slurping. Whenever he got close to finding the source of the sound, it would stop suddenly. But sure enough, when he would climb back into bed, the sound would resume. He tried using white noise machines, fans, even music to drown it out, but he could still hear the slurping beneath it all. Shin swung his legs o
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Night Terrors
"Hey, shhh, wake up! It's just a bad dream you're having." The small, whispering voice filtered hazily through the fog of my night terrors and I opened my eyes a crack to see Rowan's face peering into mine from not more than a foot away. I would have jumped if I wasn't already scared out of my wits. But frankly it didn't even register on the scale at the moment. I was just pleased to see the boy. "Mornin'," I croaked gruffly. Or at least I tried to. I didn't get the word even halfway out before Rowan clamped his hand over my mouth in earnest panic. "Shhh!" The boy repeated rather unnecessarily, given that his hand was already preventing me
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FFM Day 11: shallow water
Kylie beckoned Alise to follow her, being careful to step between the strewn branches up until the water's edge. The morning light shone weakly through the dense canopy, creating a misty haze that seemed to fill the air. "Stay to the shallows," she said, voice pitched low and breathy, nearly indistinguishable from the buzz of insects. Alise nodded, already scanning the water, spear in her hand. Alise was Kylie's niece, but with Kira the elder sister by a decade, it was more like having a younger sister. It was easier to think of Alise that way. Kylie felt along the shore for her rope, buried beneath the sluggish brown water. She hauled it
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The Wizard and the Sundry Others
Long ago in a land far distant, there lived a travelling wizard sworn to serve all creatures. One day, this wizard came to hear of a troll beneath a bridge who was threatening travellers out of their coin. And so he resolved to find this troll, and see if he might be made to reconsider his wicked ways.     “Great troll,” he began. “Much have I been told of your violent ways: let the people of these lands pass by in peace, or I shall use my magic to banish you.”     But “Whoah, woah, woah,” said the Troll. “I’m not the bad guy here: this bridge was built by the trolls of Trollheim. I’m
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The Hands
It shambled towards me in the dark, dense robes billowing around knuckles and palms. The whole entity seemed to be made of hands, rolling over one another, grasping. "Can I help you?" I offered, reaching for my canteen as it staggered into my firelight and fell to its rear beside the flame. "Do you need water?" It didn't respond, only gestured. Six, seven, eight hands all speaking the desert hand-speak. I wasn't fluent, but I got the gist. The creature had gotten separated from its caravan. "Do you need food?" I offered, but the creature declined. It signed warmth. "Well you're welcome to the fire." I offered then laid back, eyeing the stars. "Tomorrow, when I set out for the crossroads, you can come along. If you'd like. It does no good being out here in the desert alone." The creature made a series of symbols that represented thanks, appreciation, and mercy. The next day, we left for the crossroads. And we've been together ever since.

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It's begun! FFM 2019 is here! :la: :thumb802921382:
You're all beautiful people
Thank you for all your kind comments, it was a priviledge to get to help steer the good ship dA lit for a few months. I've barely looked at the site for the past month, except to read through those journals and your responses. Work's been even more manic than ever, and I'm just checking in to say three things: :bulletblack: Thank you all! :bulletblack: I'm going to vanish again, this time off to Australia with work for about three weeks. :bulletblack: But that's my problem. For the rest of you... It's almost FFM :la: (and though I'm late on this, maybe a few of you from past timezones might be able to join in still...) DamonWakes (https://www.deviantart.com/damonwakes) is on
Literature DD Roundup: May 2019
Congrats to all who got one! Keep reading, suggesting, and supporting each other! You can also join us in our chatroom, #CRLiterature (https://chat.deviantart.com/chat/crliterature) on the 15th June to talk with a selection of the writers featured here and discuss their works. Keep an eye out for the DD Discussion chat journal to be posted soon! `squanpie (https://www.deviantart.com/squanpie) Features by squanpie (https://www.deviantart.com/squanpie) :iconblackbowfin: Features by @blackbowfinDD suggestion Guidelines: DD Suggestion Guidelines :iconjessamar: Features by @JessaMarDD suggestion Guidelines: DD Suggestion Guidelines :iconliliwrites: Features by LiliWrites (https://www.deviantart.com/liliwrites) DD suggestion Guidelines:  My CV Guidelines :iconGDeyke: Features by GDeyke (https://www.deviantart.com/gdeyke) DD sugg

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LaMoonstar's avatar
Thank you for the llama!
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SkippyJr's avatar
SkippyJr|Hobbyist Filmographer
Congrats on the Deviousness Award!
:)
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TheGalleryOfEve|Professional Digital Artist
Congrats on your Deviousness Award, dear squanpie!!! :iconloveloveplz::heart:
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Musa-Eyre|Hobbyist General Artist
Congrats on the Deviousness Award! 
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LadyLincoln|Hobbyist Writer
Congratulations on your Deviousness Award, darling! :heart: 
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Tinselfire| General Artist
Well earn'd, ma'am.
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RTNightmare's avatar
RTNightmare|Hobbyist General Artist
Congratulations on receiving Deviousness Award! :D
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