When Messengers Fall (pt9)

“Bri.”

Bri paused in her conversation long enough to look at Malak. “Just a moment! We’ll be on our way soon!”

Soon, to Bri, usually constituted a period of time that was twice as long as what Malak thought would be appropriate for soon’s context. As she waved farewell to the man and the dog as they continued on their walk, Malak kept themselves from commenting upon how Bri spent her limited time in the world.

They had already gotten an answer for that, one that made sense, when one considered how Bri wanted to live her life. Bri looked up at them, tilting her head to the side. “You’re doin’ so much better! I think I’d compare you to a ten year old now.”

“In what way?”

“In the way that you still don’t understand what I’m doin’, but you’ve learned enough to respect the fact I’m doin’ it and will wait, even if a bit impatiently, to get on to the things you think are more important.”

Zombie Apocalypse (pt5)

She sighed loudly, walking behind him as if she were a Border Collie, herding him all the way to the kitchen. He allowed for this, because he was used to the treatment. “What are you wearing? Someone could see that!”

“Uh…” He decided against mentioning that at this time of night that was highly unlikely, focusing instead on the first question. “Clothes? Come on, Irish. You told me before you liked this jacket.”

“Off with it.” Her demand came with her back to him. With practice that came from a long since developed behavior, Tim took off his jacket and after a moment draped it over the back of another chair. “That button is loose. You didn’t notice?”

He examined it for what she was talking about. There it was, right in front. “No, I didn’t. Was in a bit of a hurry. You know, after midnight, not usually either of our deal.”

Even though she still didn’t face him, he could hear the clarity of her clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Then I’ll patch it up before you go. In case there is someone out there that sees you on your way home.”

“Irish, I’m actually in a bit of a hurry.”

“It won’t take too long. Did you want your chocolate with marshmallows today or not?”

“No thanks. You’re going to be in a bit of a hurry too.”

Zombie Apocalypse (pt4)

It took him ten minutes to walk to her house and that was ten minutes too long for Tim. At least, while it was night. He wasn’t all that fond of night when he was alone and even less so when the dead were involved in it. Once at the door, he rang the doorbell once, then twice, hoping that it would open soon. Because it was Irish, it did.

Her hair was up, leaving her face exposed so there could be no denial about how not happy she was to see him. “Tim, you have to know what time it is.”

“Aren’t those the same pajamas you had a year ago?” Tim asked, looking over the frumpy pale green bottoms and long sleeved top.

Irish scowled at him, absently pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I was asleep. Like any normal person would be. Like you would be.”

“I’d like to be asleep too,” Tim agreed.

Scoffing, she waved him in and the close proximity her hands came to his body were what really ushered him further in, keeping from being accidentally touched. “You know I have an important meeting tomorrow. It’s all we talked about last time we talked!”

“Because that’s what you wanted to talk about.”

“Well it’s very important!”

When Messengers Fall (pt8)

Malak didn’t react immediately in looking down. Bri and her conversational partner hadn’t noticed the dog meandering over on the end of his lead, little black nose smearing wet over the top of Malak’s shoe.

The world has everything in its place, as it has grown to be. As the world is forced to wear its changes. What doesn’t fit within those clothes, within the body? What is like me?

The dog didn’t seem to agree with the statement, even while he thought Malak was strange. He was indeed aware of the other oddity in town, because it caused a ruckus that even the grounded two legged ones here were aware of.

Where is this one like me now?

The dog didn’t know anything about right now, but he did know that after the big commotion that the oddity rushed down the slopes, as if it thought enough speed downward would take them up.​ As if they were supposed to be able to walk up into the air and away from the world.

Malak tried to ignore the sensation the thought began to evoke within them. The feeling that they hadn’t been able to reach in so long. Toward the rushing water?

Down the hill, away from the most of the people, past the park where his human always took him in the morning every day.

Zombie Apocalypse (pt3)

Hanging up, because he had no other option, Tim looked out his window at the darkness outside. He could see the death within the mist, the telltale signs of raising the dead. One of the few things he could recognize- and only because his best friend thought necromancy was fascinating. But she wasn’t born a necromancer. No one in her family was one, so there was no hoping for latent genetics.

Tim shrugged on his coat and with a last deep inhale of the inside air (lacking the decaying tinge), he made his way out into the night. It was cold, wet, and well… dead. There was nothing to taste, smell about the mist. To describe the sense necromancer’s had in order to notice these things was not in Tim’s repertoire of vocabulary. Mainly because, no matter what else he did, he had done a very good job at ignoring what he’d been born as.

Then again, he was off to see the one person who was very good at reminding him about it. Simply because she liked zombie shows.

December is cold and wet

It doesn’t seem like that long ago that I was complaining it was too hot and summery. And I’m not actually complaining about the wet. Or the cold. Well, I complained about the cold in one aspect, when it was only my hands that were cold and I was trying to Write. In that case I would be complaining. Not sure why I always forget about that one detail when December hits.

NaNoWriMo is over and I have somewhat survived the process. I made my goal, I think, but most of the month is a blur now. And enjoyable blur for the most part, but there were those harder days than normal. Now it is time for me to finally go and get some editing done, because that is what I have wanted to do forever now.

Even more important than that is polishing up the novel I plan to publish by the end of the month. “Alice to Wonderland Organization”. This is a me project, most definitely, but it will be enjoyed nonetheless. At least by me putting it out there. And my saying that I’m doing it here, for the few of you who are here with me, to hopefully keep me accountable. There is no backing out now. There are words and there is art and the book will be wonderful. Just have to figure out the last parts of it all. Just that part.

Then on to the next book. The thought of that is exciting. The thought of that is thrilling. I could use a thesaurus for more words, but I’m writing this without ready access to one and I learnt recently that I really shouldn’t bother with that unless I’m doing poetry.

December is cold here. December is wet here. And I am happy for both of those facts. I hope it goes well for you too~