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rainbowfic2024-01-26 03:51 pm
ilthit) wrote in rainbowfic2024-01-26 03:51 pm
Bittersweet Saturation, Psychedelic Purple #23: Mixtures (Uncategorized)
Name: Mixtures
Story: Uncategorized
Colors: Bittersweet saturation, Psychedelic Purple #25 (some kind of solitude is measured out in you)
Supplies and Styles: glue (Aquarius 26.1.24), palette knife, watercolors (Fiction Prompt 24.1.24); miniature collection, pointillism, saturation, triptych
Word Count: 459
Rating: teen
Warnings: References to violence and privation.
Summary: Moments of memory and emotion.
Note: Posting this under Uncategorized even though these are definitely for a specific story set in a semi-medieval fantasy 'verse, just one that I am not intending to go into detail about in case I manage to publish it under a different name. Look, sometimes (all the time) I write these things just for me.
*
1. growing apart (the twin #1)
I searched for my sister in the streets, in the gutters where I slept, in the abandoned rooms where we'd played together, never thinking to go up the hill to where the walled houses stood proud and lofty and feet were shod in gilded sandals; and my sister, hiding behind those walls, never looked for me at all.
2. memories (the scholar)
The palace reaching up and up towards the sky look imposing from below; from up above at the upper rungs, the city looks like an intricate toy or a painting; but these bones remember how those steps thumped on them as this body was thrown down, hitting step after step, switching one false vision for another.
3. nostalgia (the pirate)
I push my hands into the clear, flowing water, cup my hands and remember my mother teaching me how to hold it, and not catch any leaves, and when I bring it up to my mouth, it tastes as sweet as that memory.
4. fond farewell (the spy #1)
I cannot breathe in my father's house and so, already missing the place filled with all the things that made me myself, I leave, to draw breath, to move, to live.
5. the road not taken (the runaway #1)
He said, give me your heart and I will burn it, and make you what you must be, and so I hid my heart and ran, so fast and far that I can no longer find my way back to it.
6. old photographs (the daughter)
I leaf through the paintings I made for my father, now that the calluses left by the brush have been replaced with those left by a blade.
7. the way things were
The story goes one way, until a man with an imperial seal passes through; then, the story goes a different way.
8. missed opportunities (the runaway #2)
My chest is full of longing, and he says, just reach out your hand and take what is freely given; he does not see the burn marks on my wrist from the last time I did.
9. making a choice (the spy #2)
My lover tells me I am too clever for myself, and too many layers deep, and make choices counter to my wishes, and wish for things counter to my desires; but I am only a blind man feeling my way in the dark for what is good, and what is right.
10. endings and beginnings (the twin #2)
I hear of my sister at last, through the legend of her rise and fall, and though I have made my kingdom in the shadows of alleyways and riversides, I make sure she, too, hears of me.
Story: Uncategorized
Colors: Bittersweet saturation, Psychedelic Purple #25 (some kind of solitude is measured out in you)
Supplies and Styles: glue (Aquarius 26.1.24), palette knife, watercolors (Fiction Prompt 24.1.24); miniature collection, pointillism, saturation, triptych
Word Count: 459
Rating: teen
Warnings: References to violence and privation.
Summary: Moments of memory and emotion.
Note: Posting this under Uncategorized even though these are definitely for a specific story set in a semi-medieval fantasy 'verse, just one that I am not intending to go into detail about in case I manage to publish it under a different name. Look, sometimes (all the time) I write these things just for me.
*
1. growing apart (the twin #1)
I searched for my sister in the streets, in the gutters where I slept, in the abandoned rooms where we'd played together, never thinking to go up the hill to where the walled houses stood proud and lofty and feet were shod in gilded sandals; and my sister, hiding behind those walls, never looked for me at all.
2. memories (the scholar)
The palace reaching up and up towards the sky look imposing from below; from up above at the upper rungs, the city looks like an intricate toy or a painting; but these bones remember how those steps thumped on them as this body was thrown down, hitting step after step, switching one false vision for another.
3. nostalgia (the pirate)
I push my hands into the clear, flowing water, cup my hands and remember my mother teaching me how to hold it, and not catch any leaves, and when I bring it up to my mouth, it tastes as sweet as that memory.
4. fond farewell (the spy #1)
I cannot breathe in my father's house and so, already missing the place filled with all the things that made me myself, I leave, to draw breath, to move, to live.
5. the road not taken (the runaway #1)
He said, give me your heart and I will burn it, and make you what you must be, and so I hid my heart and ran, so fast and far that I can no longer find my way back to it.
6. old photographs (the daughter)
I leaf through the paintings I made for my father, now that the calluses left by the brush have been replaced with those left by a blade.
7. the way things were
The story goes one way, until a man with an imperial seal passes through; then, the story goes a different way.
8. missed opportunities (the runaway #2)
My chest is full of longing, and he says, just reach out your hand and take what is freely given; he does not see the burn marks on my wrist from the last time I did.
9. making a choice (the spy #2)
My lover tells me I am too clever for myself, and too many layers deep, and make choices counter to my wishes, and wish for things counter to my desires; but I am only a blind man feeling my way in the dark for what is good, and what is right.
10. endings and beginnings (the twin #2)
I hear of my sister at last, through the legend of her rise and fall, and though I have made my kingdom in the shadows of alleyways and riversides, I make sure she, too, hears of me.