When Ice and Fire Meet (Fiction)


Below is a brief experiment of mine in surrealist, fantasy fiction. I suppose it has more literary leanings than genre fiction. If abstract and strange stories are your thing, then enjoy!

I breathe out, and streams of ice pour into space. A few stars, red and ancient, fall. I pull back my hair. A few planets part as my hair sweeps through.  Two moons crash together, turning to dust. By my own power, I stand, for there’s nothing to stand on. I glow white against the dark. I ran my hands through the void. There’s nothing. 

I sink to sit in nothing. I smooth out a skirt made of airy nothing. The fabric drifts and flows before settling around my legs like a dead thing. I again braid the measureless miles of my hair. To think, I wished for this! When everything crashed in, this isolation saved me. Or so I thought. If only the silence would break. If something would just move.

My world cracks. A hand, black as my surroundings, reaches in. Embers fly through the rip in my reality. I should move away, but I reach for this light! A Soul pokes his head through. His fire eyes take me in. I know him. He – the reason I made this void to hide in. I stretch out my hand. Ice flows from my fingers. A cold curtain surrounds me. This is what I want. 

Flames lick at my ice walls. I strengthen what I’ve built – yet he breaks through, and reaches in, taking my hand. His touch burns. He closes his eyes tight; I know my ice hurts him as his fire burns me. Then he looks at me. I see the past again: when his sword ran me through and when my dagger pierced his heart. And the old world bled with us. 

We float. He reaches for my other hand but stops short. He searches my face. Forgive me, his eyes say. Maybe, if it’s not too late, we can start again. There’s nothing to lose, for what are we now but the ghosts of gods? We did it to ourselves in our final battle.

I take his other hand, and he pulls me from my void. I enter somewhere new. It’s cold, and there’s no sound. But there are living stars – more than I count. A young galaxy stretches before us. This – a new universe, made from the ashes of the old? He pulls me close, and I wrap my arms around him.


A Dog With a Horrific Past Still LOVES People

Anxiety & Depression

Today, while I was at the post office, I met the most adorable terrier-type dog. She had white paws, curly, chocolate fur, and large, liquid eyes. She came right over, wagging her little tail. I couldn’t resist her!

While I was giving her a good head scratch, her owner told me her story. This dog has a rough past – she originally came from the animal shelter. She was seriously injured when she first came there – someone had shot her. I can’t fathom it – just, why? Yet here she is, two years in her forever home, and she adores people. From what I saw at the post office, and from what her owner said, she has a friendly heart. She assumes the best about everyone she meets.

When people hurt me, my tendency is to shut down and isolate. I can easily slide back into my old ways of distrusting all and assuming the worst about the world and its people. This then triggers my depression. Yet here is this little dog, who has been through more than I have, and she puts herself out there. She healed from her trauma, and she learned to love again. Her story is remarkable!

I know it is hard to exist in this broken world, and not get swept away by depression and negativity. Yet our stories are not yet concluded. You do not know yet how your story will end. There is always hope, and time and space to heal, and to learn to love again. A happy ending is within reach.