The Playthings of God (pt11)

Natie’s words, more broken than she realized, faded away as she heard the sounds of the rest of the town. They had come to see her. But then she heard what they were saying.

She had been taken by God. She had been returned by God. She had been chosen.

Unable to put together the words to explain that their God was simply a Giant, Natie was brought back inside her newly cleaned house and put to bed.

Natie had no way of telling her parents what she saw. There was no way to explain to Patty the truth of where they lived. In a glass box, tended to by someone that looked like a illimitable version of them.

Everyone in town kept repeating it. How she had been chosen. Everyone in town kept waiting for her to speak. Words of the one who tended for them.

Natie had nothing to say, but her future had already been decided. They waited and listened. Natie had seen a world much like theirs keeping their world in motion.

Natie had nothing to say.

Dream within

She closed her eyes.

The wind blew past her as she moved ever upward. No wings, she didn’t need them. All she had to do was close her eyes. The city below shone of white, reflecting the sun and forcing her to look up.

She closed her eyes.

The water was cold as she sunk ever downward. No fins, she didn’t need them. All she had to do was close her eyes. The city above crept in shadow, absorbing the shadows of the depth and forcing her to look closer.

She closed her eyes.

The Playthings of God (pt10)

Town looked different, but at the same time like home. By that point, Natie was limping, but she refused to stop walking yet. She had to keep moving, to find if her house was still there.

It was. Even from the outside, it didn’t look the same. It was the same building, Natie knew, but when Mom had said “clean” she had meant “clean”. Cleaner than anything they could have ever done.

“Natalie!”

Her mother came out of that clean house, rushing to her and gathering Natie up in her arms. Natie clung to her with the remnants of her energy. Not very much.

“Mom, it’s just a person. Just a big person. We live in a glass box and the sun has a cord attached to it.”

She rambled on like that, not certain how much Mom could understand. Not with her mouth muffled into Mom’s shoulder. After another moment, she could feel Dad’s hand smoothing down her hair, the steady influence trembling on her head.

The Playthings of God (pt9)

When Natie found herself lucid again, she was somewhere. Somewhere more familiar, yet not familiar at all. There was the river, but it couldn’t be the river, because it was going in a completely different direction. It couldn’t be her river, because the water was so clear she could see to the bottom.

But it was all the right size. She wasn’t looking at it from a distance and barely able to take it all in.

There were no Hands. There was no backpack either, but Natie didn’t remember if she had had it on when she had been pulled out.

Shaking, she eventually managed to get out of the tree. She climbed halfway down before she fell. Rolling onto her back, Natie wheezed for breath like her father after chasing her around the house as he used to. When she got to her feet, she stumbled away, not certain where she was, where her home might be. How long she had been gone.

She did not see the Hands.

The law applies to all

He bowed his head as he lit the candles. There was a particular order to it, one he had been instructed on since birth. Even when tired, he could not make a mistake. Even when tired, it was impossible for him to do so, it was the only way.

“Why?” asked his sister, who couldn’t hold anything in her head, hadn’t been able to for ten years.

“We must do our job consistently, for we have chained Time here,” he told her.

“Why?”

“Because if released, Time would slay the Gods.” He continued before she could ask. “Time slays everything, eventually. You and me as well. Mother and Father.”

“Time is imprisoned for crime then?”

That was the simple explanation. He smiled as she lit the last candle. “Yes. Yes, that’s it.”

The Playthings of God (pt8)

Natie realized she was moving again. Her stomach churned, but she only bit her lower lip until she stopped moving. She realized she was on some other smooth surface, brown and wooden maybe, with the Giant nearby. Natie could finally breathe normally again, wiping her face. As she did so, she let go of the branch and what was left of the tree, tumbling to the surface alone with nothing else between her and the strange world she saw around her.

Tears streaming freely, Natie looked around her again. It really could be like a distorted house, the proper size for the bearer of the Hands. The Giant was dipping its hands into a glass box. That box was as big as the world, as far as Natie was concerned.

But the world was bigger than that, because the glass box fit perfectly on the cabinet. Which is what it had to be. She was worlds away from it, but she could see it. Like if she was seeing the sun. Which she could see now, hanging by cords thicker than all the woods wound together, shining down into the box.

Home, in that box. It reminded her of keeping a frog, except so much larger. So much larger. So much larger. So much-

Natie cried into her hands, until the Giant used something that could have blotted out that electric sun over her entire village to sweep her onto a new tree, which she clung to. Then she moved yet again, way too fast. Maybe she threw up, but her mouth tasted terrible either way. Forcing her eyes open, she looked straight up into the face of their God.

At first she couldn’t process it, because it was so large. When she could finally take it all in, when she put together everything she could see, it came to her.

It looked just like them.

Take the future in hand, me!

It is July! I’m not really here (even moreso than usual), because it is Camp NaNoWriMo and I don’t have enough time to focus on anything but that. As of the time of Writing this I still am not quite sure what I’m going to be Writing, but I know I’m going to Write a lot. It’s not as if I don’t have a lot of ideas that need to actually have their own space on paper. Stop editing in your head, edit on paper. That should be my motto.

In other words, I am working on the final edits of my first book. It may fall a little to the wayside this month, but I will be finishing it the month after. Before the end of the year I will finally be published. As long as I Write that here, I can’t chicken out, right? That’s how accountability works, right?

I will no longer be updating every day, but I’m certain everyone will not mind. In the long term, I will be Writing more. And eventually people will be reading more, because there will be more to read. This blog has been good practice for me and it will continue to be.

To prove some of my dedication to you, here is a sample from the up and coming “Alice to Wonderland Organization”.

Continue reading “Take the future in hand, me!”