scribblings

may 3

the writing

My dear Greta, 
By the time you wake up, I will be far, far away, & you will be the new keeper of the tower. Congratulations! I’ve curated a fine library for your perusal, & the rooftop garden is lovely this time of year. My apologies for trapping you so suddenly—things to do, kingdoms to conquer. I’m sure you understand. This is, after all, what you’ve trained for! In time, you may be able to swap places with an unsuspecting passerby. 
Remember, the tower must always have a keeper. 
With great affection, your mother~

~

bright-eyed & blushing
under the blossoming arch:
Spring, in a green dress 

~

She sketches out her fury in red & black & gold. A beastly, bleeding thing, spilling outside of the lines, off the page—
She falls asleep with ink-stained hands & papercut fingers. Wakes to a horned, hell-breathed creature, licking at the salt of her tears & blood, ready for her command.

the reading

Poem: “Dawn Talks to Day” by William Morris (from A Poem to Read Aloud Every Day of the Year)

“Dawn talks to Day
Over dew-gleaming flowers,
Night flies away
Till the resting of hours:
Fresh are thy feet
And with dreams thine eyes glistening,
Thy still lips are sweet
Though the world is a-listening. […]”

Short Story: “A Series of Steaks” by Vina Jie-Min Presad (from The New Voices of Science Fiction)

“All known forgeries are tales of failure. The people who get into the newsfeeds for their brilliant attempts to cheat the system with their fraudulent Renaissance masterpieces or their stacks of fake checks, well, they might be successful artists, but they certainly haven’t been successful at forgery.
The best forgeries are the ones that disappear from notice—a second-rate still life moldering away in gallery storage, a battered old 50-yuan note at the bottom of a cashier drawer—or even a printed strip of Matsusaka beef, sliding between someone’s parted lips.”