Skip to main content

Fog Walkers

By
We've walked for days. Weeks. Months. Has it been years?

I remember being a young girl, holding the hand of an older woman. My grandmother? I don't remember her speaking to me, but I can still hear her voice telling me stories.

There was a time when we walked in the Sun, in glorious light at day and in the sweet silver light of the Moon at night.
We had a goal, a quiet refuge where we could spend our lives without fear of the others. Where our way of life would be the only way.
One night it was taken away from us. We walked into what we thought was ordinary fog, but it was evil magic, their magic.
Now we walk in eternal fog, bereaved of the golden light of the Sun and the silver light of the Moon.
Cold white light, cold wet fog, cold hands to hold.

Black shadows, silhouettes without faces. There's nothing left of us. We keep walking, the fog never ending. 


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

For My Friends

By
A Long Way from Known Waters  Nader groaned. ” That was the worse joke I ever heard. ” He closed his eyes and shook his head.  ”What? It’s a classic!” Aldon’s voice cracked as he pretended to be insulted. With a shrug, he shimmied up the railing and secured the line he was supposed to be securing. ”I’d like to hear you tell a funnier one!” His voice was almost lost on the ocean wind. Nader narrowed his eyes as he watched Aldon scurry between the lines. With a small shake of his head he went back to coiling lines and making sure they were out of the way of the crew.  He missed being on the Indenel, this smaller ship was too crowded and it was near impossible to find a spot to just sit and watch the ocean. Captain Arelel was relentless in finding chores for him to do. Even if they were useless ones, like recoiling already perfectly coiled rope.  ”Nader!” The Captain’s voice cracked like a whip. Nader hoped he had managed to hide his jump of surprise, but t...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Room of One’s Own

By
It was Virginia Woolf who said that women need a room of their own, a room where we will be able to write (fiction more specifically). I was lucky in that respect when I began to read and then later on when I started to write poetry and prose as a teenager. I was always encouraged to both read and write, and my father would take me to the library and introduce me to the wonderful world that is Science Fiction. Growing up I was sort of an only child, I never had to share my space with anyone. Okay, the “sort of an only child”-thing might need some explaining. My older sister, by 6 years, was severely handicapped ( Retts Syndrome ), so we could never have any kind of sisterly bond or do anything together. When she was 17 she died from heart failure, leaving my parents and I to continue life without her. Yes, it was an easier life because she needed so much help and we could never take any long trips; or if we did my parents had their hands full with her and sometimes I was l...
4 comments
Read more

I should have known better …

By
Last week was my husbands last week of summer holiday and I had thought that with him wanting to be as much as possible with the kids I could get some writing done. Yeah right! Who was I kidding! Tuesday morning I woke with a sore throat and a few hours after that my voice was gone So instead of sitting down at my laptop, I lay flat out on the sofa drinking tea and feeling sorry for myself. The day after Pumpkin started to sneeze, and we had some fun nights with a very fussy baby resulting in me feeling even more poorly. All the writing and editing I had planned didn’t happen, but I did get to write some poetry.
4 comments
Read more