May 2012
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someday, we’ll sit here
again, together
where once we broke the bottle...
– Amelie Andrezel, “Twenty-five”
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His Blood's Gone Wild
The club at the back of the tavern was dark, lit only by chandeliers much too large for the little room. There was a separate bar, and a stage. The tables were arranged in intimate conversational areas. At the largest and central-most of these tables, a game of cards was being played. A group of spectators looked on.
Ferdinand and Konrad entered the cozy room. All heads turned in their...
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On the road, they made their way mostly in silence. The higher they climbed on...
– Amelie Andrezel, “The Reaper and The Saint”
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Helena and the Sea
Helena stood on the open balcony of the highest tower of the house. Far below, on the other side of the clear barrier, the sea glimmered like an emerald in the rocky setting of the bay. Her hands shaded her eyes. Ferdinand came up beside her. He leaned on the rail and gazed out toward the water.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” he asked.
“What is it?” Helena wondered aloud. “It seems large for a...
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Talk
Konrad pulled a book from the shelf and carefully turned its pages. It was a copy of East of Eden. He lay on his back, looking up at the yellowed paper with the same devotion he might have given the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. A stamp on the faded cover read:
A Gift to the New York City Public Library, July, 2051.
Across the room, Ferdinand looked toward his friend.
“Quite the...
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For my soul,” Nasrin assured, “Nothing can be done. But my body,” she added...
– Amelie Andrezel, “The Reaper and The Saint”
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The Reaper and The Saint
A Strange Tale of Adventure, as told by Amelie Andrezel
Isak sat beneath the boughs of the orange trees in his father’s garden. The branches swayed gently in the ocean breeze, casting dancing shadows across the young man’s legs as he lay in quiet contemplation upon the grassy carpet. The air was laced with the aroma of almond and the buzzing serenade of honey bees, which...
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The Reaper and The Saint
This afternoon, I put up a new piece of fiction, The Reaper and The Saint, to my main page. If you’ve ever enjoyed any of my writing, I highly recommend you check this out; in my opinion, it’s one of my best. I also recommend this if you’ve ever read anything by Karen Blixen, whose mystical short stories of love and tragedy have always been among my favorites. Her style has...
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The Redlight
Amsterdam was the kind of town that members of society avoided at all cost.
Situated beyond the Border, it lay on the edge of the Lowland Territories, just to the north of the Wild Isles, but south of untamed Zealand. It was populated by men who made their money building ships on the docks or gambling on Company bids. The prospectors and sailors lived within the confines of an antiquated dome,...
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Limit Pacific - We’re No Heroes
Shout-out to the indie rock trio from Wales! Love your sound.
http://werenoheroes.bandcamp.com/
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Now she was so young that her despair itself had vigor in it, and it bore her...
– Isak Dinesen, Winter’s Tales
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Simple
“I don’t know how to do this,” Ferdinand said. The books looked up at him from the floor, gruesome and gawking. He wanted more than anything to shut them.
“Approach me with joy,” Jordan said, looking pale on the bed, “Or not at all.”
“Is it that simple?” Ferdinand asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I envy you,” Ferdinand continued. He took off his shirt and set it down on the divan.
“Life isn’t simple,”...
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I took a walk this afternoon and it was lovely:
http://youthinkwithyoureyes.tumblr.com/
Spring!
Sigh.