Silver and Diamonds

Moonlight flowed over the snow, turning the hilltop to silver and diamonds. The diamonds were reflected in the sky, where cold stars looked down from black velvet seats. The stage below them was free of trees and perfectly crystalline. 

A man stood dead center, his shadow dimming the diamonds behind him. He wore a thick wool coat and a warm fur cap, but he shivered as though a north wind was knifing through him. His boots creaked as he shifted from one foot to the other, breathing out clouds of gossamer.

Full Spectrum

"There must be some way out of here," said the joker to the thief. "There's too much confusion; I can't get no relief." - Brennen McCreary, All Along The Watchtower

I don't see the point of sleep anymore. I know the scientific reasoning, but artistically, adventurously, there's no point. I'm seventeen now, and I'm only twelve. I've spent a third of my life submerged in the blackness of dreams.

I've been living more, staying up later, and it's wondrous. It's like someone tinted my world Prismacolor. I think it's letting me go free.

Now there's always a beat in my blood. Drums, strings, and flutes roar in my ears, and colors are dancing at my fingertips. I tell myself I want a science-math major, but it's hard to believe when I'm trying to sit still in calc. The music in my head is screaming for me to dance, spin, jump over the desks.

Delphiniums

She stepped into the crisp fall night. It was dark, far past midnight, but she couldn't sleep. Her lover had left months ago, but the pain was still as fresh as a new cut.

Eglantine rose, symbolizing a wound unhealed.

The weather was still warm enough to keep hard frost at bay, but not for long. The days were cool, and the nights cold. The trees had dropped their leaves. The more timid plants had already curled deep into themselves, and let pale browns wither and dry their leaves and buds.

Oak leaves of strength.


Her feet moved of their own accord, carrying her across cool, pebbly dirt and into the large garden behind the house. The last of the summer vegetation brushed her fingers, slowly numbing them. A dainty evergreen slipped along her thumb, and she paused. She twisted a stem of it between her fingers, broke it, and held it tight.

Rosemary for remembrance, my love.

A voyage across the world, to the far East, was the reason for separation. Educational purposes, supposedly. Love of variety, truly.

China asters for fidelity and the love of variety.

A perfect representation.

She carefully trod through the shriveled roses. They shimmered with a dusting of the thinnest frost. During the summer, they had grown rampant along the trellises. She could look out her window and see a vibrant palette of roses. They all looked the same in the moonlight now, seeming as dark as sorrows or bright as silver.

Black roses for farewell, crimson for mourning. White roses for innocence, yellow for friendship and apology.

Her innocent lover never knew the pain departing caused. Didn't need to know. She kept it to herself, since, after all, there would be a reunion.

Fir, meaning time. Almond, promise. Heliotrope, devotion. Primrose, eternal love.


The lover would be back. Returned to her side in less than a year. Full of new sights, smells, experiences. Spices, silks, and the great souks of the Eastern markets.

She turned down the next row of the garden. The herbs by her hand were the sturdiest of all the plants, often lasting long into the winter.

Fennel for strength.

Her lover was the strongest person she'd ever met. In fact, that was part of the reason for her love. Not physically, but spiritually, mentally, morally. Standing up to what was wrong, heart upon sleeve, and colors flying.

Holly for defense, orange lilies for passion, and lotus for eloquence.

She began to hurry past the last of the plants, racing her memories.

Apple blossoms of perseverance. Pink carnations for friendship. Delphiniums, able to transcend space and time. Fidelite pink carnations. Mallow, forget-me-not, lime blossoms. Freesia, marigold, rue.

Periwinkle for memories. Snapdragon for strength. Yarrow for heartache.

She stepped through the door, slamming it behind her. Flowers pelted the wood, herbs scented the air.

Fidelity, love, faithfulness, hope, regret, desire, change.

"We will be together again." The house was silent around her as she climbed the stairs to her room. The bed sat in the corner, its covers strewn wildly. She lay down, pulled the blankets high, and held her pillow tight in her arms. "Together."

Just outside the back door, a sprig of rosemary lay in the dirt. It was slowly turning silver. The frost crept across its thin needles, gleaming in the clear night.

Remember.

Drabbles for Lit Mag

Prompt: Wildfire, coffee, the name "Eileen"
Title: "Truck on Fire"

The engine grumbled to a standstill and Elisha opened her eyes. The green, Forest Service fire truck was parked outside an all night cafe somewhere. Elisha didn't know specifically where. Somewhere near a wildfire, presumably.
Joel, from the seat opposite Elisha, shoved the door open and jumped to the ground. He carried two enormous Thermoses.
"Shut the door Joel, you're letting the warm air out!" Eileen called from the driver's seat.
"Will do." He let the door closed and hurried up to the cafe. Elisha watched through the windows as he walked up to register and a waitress bought out two pots of coffee which she poured into the Thermoses. Joel pulled the handful of small change he had gathered that morning and tipped it onto the counter. The waitress looked mildly amused as he tried to count it all out to her.
After a few more moments, Joel finished and jogged back out to the truck. He buckled back into his seat and uncapped the Thermos.
"Alright, who needs it first?"
Eileen restarted the engine began to shift through the gears. "Driver gets dibs."
Ryan leaned towards the radio and flicked it on. Taylor Swift resounded through the truck.

Eileen flicked it off. "It's too early Ry."
On. "It's officially 6:00." He grinned. "Besides there's only another half-hour 'til we get there."
Elisha accepted a cup of coffee and glanced at the dark road. "Where are we going anyways?"
Ryan shrugged. "Where the trees are on fire. I dunno."
Off. "It's called Chaple Vale. Lee said someone from the fire tower called it in."
On. "So I was right. Where the trees are on fire."
Eileen sighed and switched the radio station. Blaring rock boomed through the speakers. "If we have to listen, it's my choice. We can listen to Swift on the way back."
"Yeah, providing the truck doesn't catch fire again."

Prompt: Steampunk, emeralds, police
Title: "Green Fire"

The woman leaned back into her dark corner of the room. She was almost fashionable, wearing a dark jacket and trousers, with her coppery hair coiled back. She wore tall, heavy boots that were more what you'd expect to see on a Grundholt engineer. Her name was Enna Lynch and she didn't care about fashion or engineering. Enna was waiting for a few people, some she knew, some she didn't. They were her new crew for her airship.
She sat up as an athletic, dark-skinned man walked in. He was one of the new crew, Enna knew it. For one thing, he didn't look comfortable amid the hulking sky-sailors that crowded the room. For another, he had one of Enna's advertising fliers in his hand. She stood with a sigh and waved him over.
"Enna Lynch, captain of the Atlantis Star?"
"That's me." Enna didn't wait for him to say anything else. "I'm looking for people willing to sky-sail to Pikom. I have a valuable cargo and I don't particularly trust any of this lot to do the job. . . properly." She waved a hand at the other sky-hands.
In other words, I need someone stupid enough not to mutiny.
"What's the cargo?" The man didn't look greedy, just suspicious.
Enna reached into her boot and pulled out an emerald, gleaming with green fire. She set it carefully on the table where only the new man could see it.
His eyes widened and he looked up. "A whole shipload of these? All the way to Pikom? That's expensive. Who-"
"It doesn't matter who or how much. It just matters if you can keep your mouth shut and do the job. If you want to, be at the J dock on Delaney Street at six- in the morning- tomorrow." Enna slid the emerald back into her boot while carefully watching the man.
He looked thoughtful for a moment, then replied "Lee Shadow, I'll see you in the morning." He pushed back his chair and stuck out his hand. Enna reached out to shake and froze.
"Don't turn around. There's a couple of coppers coming in. On three, turn and go out that door." She pointed. "One. . . Two. . ."
Then suddenly, there was a loud bang and a stampede for the doors.