Flavor of the Day. Ambrosia. Cherry. (Horizon Tales)
AUTHOR: Shrimp
CHALLENGE: Flavor of the Day: sweven (dream); Ambrosia 2. "Yes,” I said. “Isn’t it pretty to think so?"; cherry
WORD COUNT: 235
RATING: PG-13
NOTES: Cherry from first person for the back to school challenge. Just a little piece about the nature of dreams and Vala's ever changing ones.
As a child Vala dreams of adventure. She dreams of the ground melting in dragon fire, white horses, and tall wooden ships. She dreams of cutting the heads from monsters and witches, fairies healing her twinkling magic. She dreams of sea creatures long forgotten and her ancestors’ ghosts grinning in pride. She dreams of her future, always and forever faraway from Uniss and Shore Shine and home.
Sick aboard The Merchant’s Mirage her dreams are nightmares. Hellish faces twisted in blacks and reds, bleeding forms of indecipherable origin. The sea boils into steam that cooks flesh from bone. The sky cries, shrieking as limbs fall from nowhere. She crawls along the deck through blood so high it touches her belly. Everything is hot, everything burns, everything is rotted and tormented and lost. She dreams a fear warped mosaic of her present.
When the magic lulls her to slumber she dreams of home. Shore Shine, pure and safe and hidden as it ever was, and everything that goes along with it. She smells the bread from the kitchens through the salty air and sun warmed stone. She hears Elisa laughing and singing, skipping in her hard soled shoes down endless stairs. She feels her father grip her shoulder with a warm and calloused hand, sees her mother’s face swim before her vision. She dreams of her past, that once repelled her, and all the little things left behind.
CHALLENGE: Flavor of the Day: sweven (dream); Ambrosia 2. "Yes,” I said. “Isn’t it pretty to think so?"; cherry
WORD COUNT: 235
RATING: PG-13
NOTES: Cherry from first person for the back to school challenge. Just a little piece about the nature of dreams and Vala's ever changing ones.
As a child Vala dreams of adventure. She dreams of the ground melting in dragon fire, white horses, and tall wooden ships. She dreams of cutting the heads from monsters and witches, fairies healing her twinkling magic. She dreams of sea creatures long forgotten and her ancestors’ ghosts grinning in pride. She dreams of her future, always and forever faraway from Uniss and Shore Shine and home.
Sick aboard The Merchant’s Mirage her dreams are nightmares. Hellish faces twisted in blacks and reds, bleeding forms of indecipherable origin. The sea boils into steam that cooks flesh from bone. The sky cries, shrieking as limbs fall from nowhere. She crawls along the deck through blood so high it touches her belly. Everything is hot, everything burns, everything is rotted and tormented and lost. She dreams a fear warped mosaic of her present.
When the magic lulls her to slumber she dreams of home. Shore Shine, pure and safe and hidden as it ever was, and everything that goes along with it. She smells the bread from the kitchens through the salty air and sun warmed stone. She hears Elisa laughing and singing, skipping in her hard soled shoes down endless stairs. She feels her father grip her shoulder with a warm and calloused hand, sees her mother’s face swim before her vision. She dreams of her past, that once repelled her, and all the little things left behind.