Marrath_Before I Wake_Bibliocantio_Your Fossil
Catalog Guide:
Marrath
It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Ruthalt shivered in her robes, more ornamental than practical, and watched the flakes fall outside the Library’s windows through narrowed eyes. There was wind tonight– a rare phenomenon. Not for the first time, she gave thanks for her little sanctuary, where the sconces always burned, www.onedoor.ccthe shelves stood tall and sturdy, and the walls kept out the eternal frost. She just wished it could be a touch warmer. But while her discomfort was sizable, she was in no danger, and so Ruthalt busied herself with the task of thawing her mind a...
Before I Wake
In the small town of Belfast, Maine, at a quarter past seven the night of Christmas Eve, an apothecarist was startled awake from her prolonged sleep on the sofa. The hair on the back of her neck stood erect, goosebumps dotted her arms, and a feeling she had long since forgotten returned to her like an old friend – the feeling that an unannounced, important guest was arriving in the coming hours. She urgently wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and went to the elixir cabinet, scanning the glass bottles of various sizes and shapes with her hands. She felt the push towards the oldest elixir in...
Bibliocantio
Early in the morning, before I’ve opened the store for the day, during those few solitary minutes of calm and quiet before the shoppers crowd into the aisles with their banal chattering and dirty soles scruffing the linoleum floor boards that I’ve just mopped, the shelves around me creak ceaselessly, grunting from their noble attempts to carry such a weighty, precious burden. If I close my eyes, breath deeply and slowly of that wondrous scent in the air––the bibliosmia of leathbound spines, fading ink, and rustling paper––and listen to the shelves creaking, after a moment or two I can begin t...
Your Fossil
A wisp of smoke snags, caught as if in a spider web, then breaks apart–fractals of light and color, kaleidoscope….Struggling to stand as the air thickens, voices chattering incoherently. In the mirror before me, mother and sister laugh. How am I like them? I must stand. Stand. Wisps of smoke again. A few shaky steps to the bed. I hear you, chemical, as you hiss. Your hand reaches forth below me, through my spine, into my stomach and pulls me down. Down with vibrating electric. The ten times strength in little black crystals and I witness your power–breath catching in near panic, wondering….Whe...