Norma Jean drew a heart on the back of my hand in hoop snake blood. “When that fades,” she said, tapping the center of her work, “you may forget about me.” Norma Jean and I dated on and off through high school and then some. We grew up wandering the forest and exploring the caverns surrounding Ripple Creek, running from the hidebehinds and hodags when we stumbled too far into their territory. The day Norma Jean disappeared, I saw a teakettler scuttling around the shed behind my place. It walked backwards, like they do, and bumped right into the pile of wood I spent all day chopping. Teakettlers don’t ever stra

Clockwork Girl by Rieal-Dragonsbane, literature

Literature

Clockwork Girl

Twirl, twirl, twirl. Clickityclick. The first time I opened my eyes, I saw my father. When I reached out for him, my joints squeaked and creaked and my arms jittered. “Hmm.” That was his first word to me. He took off his glasses and left the room cleaning them. That left me alone, in the dark, listening to spiders clicking and clacking inside my head. They frightened me. I wanted my father. When I tried to move my legs, I found that I had none. It was disconcerting, but not an impassable obstacle. I used my arms and my fingers to drag my body across the floor, until I met the door. It was disconcerting, but not an impassab

FFM 2015, July 7 - The Last Pirate by Wolfrug, literature

Literature

FFM 2015, July 7 - The Last Pirate

There were five in her band: two were former cowboys, one a dark-faced Mexican who never spoke, one was a black man: all scowl and muscle. The little Mexican had been their lookout, and by the time Lafayette stumbled into camp, he was one cocked six-shooter away from capture. They softened him up a bit first. He almost relished the taste of blood in his mouth: at least it was liquid. Finally they brought him before their leader, the bandit queen. Lafayette recognized the unmistakable scar running down her face. He said through bloodied teeth: "Give me a sip from that waterskin, I will tell you my entire sordid tale." She gave him the water,

A Not So Epic Magical Coming of Age Adventure by ThornyEnglishRose, literature

Literature

A Not So Epic Magical Coming of Age Adventure

The boy had a gift. His drawings came true. 'Think of the possibilities,' said the Grand High Magician. 'But if a dark magician had this gift, think of the possibilities then! We must learn more. Does it happen every time? How accurate must it be to target specific people? Not very, looking at you ma'am, no offence. How detailed must it be? Could one, for example, affect an entire country with one A4 drawing?' 'First things first,' said the boy's mother, who was looking flat and square with a thick outline round her. 'I thought perhaps some art lessons.'

Spinning (In Her Grave) by camelopardalisinblue, literature

Literature

Spinning (In Her Grave)

She came in a series of packages. The limbs were the first; their sectioned silver expanses reflecting the sunlight as I reverently opened the slender boxes. If I'm honest, I must admit my breath caught, but for a moment, at the beauty I unveiled. As the moment passed, I gathered the necessary materials and spun limb sections into their rightful place alongside their counterpart. The children crowded eagerly around, but lost interest quickly, even as I tinkered. Once they were whole, I polished the limbs daily, spinning them in my hands and impatient for the next package. When it arrived, the children crowded me once more, their interest hel

FFM 2: Ye Olde Reliable by pepper-n-fossy, literature

Literature

FFM 2: Ye Olde Reliable

In the dark tunnels that were his home, Vincent’s flickering lantern cast long peculiar shadows. The warm light reflected off rusty pipes, steaming vents and rhythmically turning gears. Every now and then a tiny insect-like-machine’s bronze shell would flash brightly as it scurried past, diligently keeping everything functioning smoothly like the gigantic clockwork it was. Vincent stopped and examined one more closely, it seemed restless or agitated about something. In fact all the “keeper bugs” he had passed on his rounds had been acting strange, even the spare ones, which he kept in a satchel for emergencies. They w

FFM5: Burn the Dead by NamelessShe, literature

Request: The Luminary War by WishingUnderThatStar, literature

Literature

Request: The Luminary War

A haunting screech echoed through the town. We stopped chiselling the meteorite. "The Lulls are here," I said. Paul collected our things. He rubbed his hand across his stubble. He murmured, "Then we better hurry." It may have been 2:47 PM but if Lulls were nearby, we weren't going to risk our lives. Paul asked, "Have we got enough?" I inspected the bag; there wasn't much inside. After a moment, I replied, "It'll do." "Good," he said as he lifted the rucksack. "Let's move." We left the meteor site and headed to Paul's car which was across the road. Paul and I were neighbours, back when things were normal. I used to go round

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