The Flora Singer_Fire Escape_Scarcely Ten Breaths of Sentience_Bitter Rain
Catalog Guide:
The Flora Singer
Lilly wasn’t quite sure what she was. Her village would call her a witch but she didn’t like that word. Witches were burned. She didn’t think it fit anyway, so she called herself a Singer. Being a woman now, she figured she was old enough to name her kind, whoever else it might include. Walking along her well worn path through the trees, she listened to the soft singing of birds symphonize with the low hum of insects. The damp smell of moss tickled her nose as she came upon the small clearing. Lifting her legs high to maneuver around the underbrush, she made it to her mushroom patch o...
Fire Escape
Mrs. Shapiro looked like a scribble in a gaping inferno, leaning out of the window of a thirteen-story building at approximately 8:05 p.m. She was a shrewd slip of a woman gobbling up sumptuous bits of the sights below. The city flowered up at night in tell-tale colors of neon green and fiery orange and white. Laughter and car-horns filled the streets along Alaskan Way, but it was all white noise to her. The sounds of this city on a Saturday evening in the month of June only served to cement her status in the world, and she resented this feeling of singularity. She had a sister in Spokane whom...
Scarcely Ten Breaths of Sentience
Scarcely one breath of sentience comes to me, whereupon I understand that, somehow, the perspiring giant and the depth of her words has transferred consciousness into my plastic body, though at present she writes not with me but with my fellow, who bleeds blue onto a white sheet as per the giant’s longhand scribbles.Her words are delicate, euphonious, but her movements are savage. The giant’s writing yields only when her brow furrows of resignation, which are actually quite frequent, for I come to realiwww.onedoor.ccze that oftentimes she meets her creations with abject dissatisfaction.Scarcely two breaths...
Bitter Rain
Kioko sighed heavily, each step she took a little weaker than the last, until she finally reached the elevator. She was exhausted, but ready for another day at work, though she toiled away each day at her office. It was hard, but she enjoyed what she did, to an extent. The elevators had large windows that reflected the skyline of the beautiful Tokyo, the glistening sun bouncing light from the buildings, reflecting onto the glass. Kioko smiled as she stared out the window, her exhaust briefly wavering. She always enjoyed the sunshine. The sun was always there, when other people weren’t. It stoo...