No title for this one, a brief snippet of a possible novel. Enjoy. We'll call it Lustre for now.

The storm rages overhead and all around, the night’s hold broken by quick shocks of angry lightning. My shoes squelch in the mud as I stumble from tree to tree, heart hitching and galloping in my chest. My eyes can see in the dark as though it is noon. Fear shrieks and shakes her fists in my head; I can’t seem to focus and yet everything has a clarity that is breath taking. I run a quivering hand down the soaked bark of a tree, I can feel every nook and bump as though they were deep valleys and soaring ranges. I can feel the insects and huddling creatures that quake at the ferocity of this storm within the gnarled trunk.


Thunder explodes like shells from an assault by heaven above, exploding over and over and over again, the sound deafening but mesmerizing in its sobering intensity. The lightening exposes the brooding hill that looms over these old woods, rain seeming to fall thick enough to drown a weary traveler. Laughter cuts through the din, my ears picking out the sound as though it were a fond titter over a polite cup of coffee. A quick moment of disconnect washes over me and I turn my face upwards to the deluge that falls from the sky.

Oh so many drops that fall; so many cold, cold tears for the loss of humanity and the sweet touch of the mortal. For a brief spasm my body shakes and I must grip the tree in utter terror of the ramifications of my dark choice; to gain we must give, to strive we must stumble, to conquer we must fall to such depths as though it seems as if there will be no chance to ever walk again with back unbroken by the weight of foolishness and ungainly pride, but to instead always reside within the pit of pitch black madness itself.

“Darling, why must you be so? Haven’t I given you such a sweet gift? Isn’t it everything I promised you that it would be?”

That voice, the silken honey and naked body dragged over gravel emotion of it. She breaks my reverie like a hammer blow to the temple and a warm kiss at the nape of my neck.

“Come now, stop being so theatrical and lets go back to the cabin. I’ll bathe you and feed you and quiet all your fears.”

I can’t help but swoon at all the sweet and dark things that voice promises. My heart slows its hammering, and seems to fade away with the patter of water that beats at my skin. I release the tree, and stand anew, soaked and muddied as I am. My clothing runs with the cold water, yet the lack of warmth bothers me no more. Eyes wide, I look up at the falling rain, the impression of it instead moving away from me vertiginous. In that moment, the sky lit up and time stopped completely with the soft intake of a lovers breathe, her breathe.

I look down at her standing there, blonde hair matted about her shoulders like seaweed, her white summer dress molded over her form. Raindrops hang suspended in the air about us like so many diamonds, and her eyes are wild as they look into me and through me. Her soft lips crook into a knowing smile, and she steps lightly towards me. The feeling that a wild hare must have as a bobcat closes the distance washes over me, but I am rooted in place by her gaze. Those eyes, such a deep forest green, the green of growing things and sunlight and of crazed jealousy.