Halcyon

This is golden. This is paradise. This is heaven on earth.

Irrupt

"I think this is a mistake," she said.

"Whatever do you mean?"

She knew it wasn't so innocent. The question, the face. The tone of voice was more kitten than bobcat, but she knew the truth. She wanted to stand her ground.

"Nothing," she said instead. Shame surged through her body, but she smiled and pretended everything was okay. Sometimes, when she did that well enough, she could even convince herself.

Mosque

I remember what it felt like to walk into that mosque, the high arches of white and brick-red stone. The way the Christian gods ruined its simplicity with their gold trim and their ornate ridiculousness. I could have resented them, but the city was a synergy, and I respected that. This whole world evolves to encompass more, and I think that's a beautiful thing. I wish other people did too.

Peremptory

I warned him, and he did not heed. I could have seen the sights, but I was blinded by selfish need. Misperception, misunderstanding. Tears and fears seem to be my new best friends. I'm tired of these fights, tired of these nights. Let's close our eyes and go to sleep. Let's return to the dreams.

Volplane

When I was a girl, flying seemed so easy. Just spread your arms and flap. Just think happy thoughts. That's what they tell you -- those fables and those cartoons and that Disney. They know what you want, and they tell you you can have it, easily.

But flying, flying's not really that simple. See, I fly, all the time, when I'm with you. But I fall too. I run into something I'm not expecting, something I never knew was there. And then I'm on the ground, bruised, crying, and searching for you.

It takes us a while again, to get off the ground. But it always happens. Sometimes I'm afraid that it won't, but deep down, I know that we'll be okay. The ground can't hold us forever.

See, flying is possible, when I'm with you. You're my magic. You're my happy thoughts. All I need to do is learn to watch where I'm going a little more carefully. Then maybe we won't fall anymore.

Abeyance

He'd left. He had told no one, and simply left. In the middle of the night, bedsheets out the tower window, one knapsack of clothing, the whole thing. He slept in the woods because he'd heard that was the safest way of going undetected. Because he'd heard that was the thing to do.

Who would notice first? How long would it take them? He was a crown prince, yet somehow he always felt slightly invisible to the members of the court. That was part of the reason he'd left; he didn't want his father to have to die before anyone decided to notice him.

Hubris

I could be the hero, in all my grand tragedy. I make it up as I go along, and maybe if I had a better plan, I wouldn't misstep so many times. The thing is, the hero is the one who's supposed to suffer for his great pride. So why is it then that my carelessness keeps injuring the one I love most? I'd rather it be me.

Meritorious

Are you deserving of this honor? I think we all know the answer. I pretend every day that it doesn't matter, but it does. It's not important, but it matters. It's a matter of principle, in fact. One, two, five, ten years from now, I may not care. But today, today I still sort of do.

Founder

This ship has set and sailed and sunk, and I'm tired of holding on, tired of being held on to. Soothing waves wash over me, wet and wild and wearing me down. I am giving in. I am giving up.

Bruit

Things get outdated. You think it's not going to happen, not to you. You think your love, your friendship, your work, your passion -- they're timeless. Not me, you say. But yes, you. And everyone else. That's what life is. Time, passing. Time, changing. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse, but always, always moving.

I think it's beautiful, even when it hurts.

Hieroglyphic

She ran her fingers lightly over the picture-words carved into the wall. No one saw her, because she was little. No one saw her, because no one ever saw her. No one cared.

She moved quietly like a mouse and waited for everyone to turn the corner before taking out her paper and blue crayon. She peeled the label wrapper from the crayon as if it were the outer shell of a shrimp, and then she placed the blank white sheet over a random spot on the wall. Lightly at first, she rubbed the the crayon back and forth across the paper, just like she'd been taught on the school field trip to the cemetery. She pressed a little harder to capture some of the finer details of the images, and when she was satisfied, she pulled back to admire her work.

"Gracie!" her mother yelped. "No touching!"

Her mother grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her away. Gracie held on tight to the paper, but the crayon fell to the floor. She watched as it grew smaller and smaller in her vision, until she was so far away that it blending in with the dust and the shadows. Then they turned the corner and Gracie had to leave behind the ancient tomb. But she beamed at her paper. Maybe she would never come back to this place, but she had a piece of it, and it had a piece of her.

Abjure

You're like a black cat, someone once said. I laughed at the time, but now I know. The thing is, I always loved those black cats. Maybe because I don't know what's good for me. Maybe because I only see the good. Someone once said I was too nice. I think I'm beginning to believe.

Journeyman

I learned th' trade from muh fathuh's fathuh. Mah fathuh passed 'way, but his Pops taught me ev'rythin' I know. Raised me like I's his own. Guess that kinduh makes me like muh Pa's brothuh, eh? Well, whatever I is, I's good at it. I take 'em pieces uh wood and I cut 'em, sand 'em, and slip 'em together. Make dang fine boats, like that un out thur. Go, feel it. See how smoot' it is. 'ts muh work. 'ts muh life. I culd make you un too, if you's like.

Didactic

Sometimes I rebel, push back against lessons, even the ones I know I need to learn. But I'm listening. I'm always listening, even when I don't want to be.

Emprise

"We all have our roles to play in the events to come."

Things are never as dire in the morning as they seemed the night before. So when you wake up, little one, remember me. I won't be here anymore. I'm out of time. But you, you can fix this. You can save yourself, and maybe everyone else in this world too. Most of them don't deserve it, but you, you do. That's enough for me. That's why I'm giving you this chance. Take it, and be bold. That's all I ask, baby. That's all I ask.

Caduceus

The sign means to do no harm.

She pondered the thought as she filled out her dailies. The stack of charts seemed endless, but they were all part of the job, part of doing no harm. She was good at it. Her job. Professionally, she was so put together. She was the perfect student, the perfect intern, and someday she'd be the perfect doctor. That wasn't her concern.

Personally everything was upside down. Her friends, her lovers, her family. She wanted to extend "do no harm" to them too, but somehow it was easier with strangers.

Her cell phone rang, and she sighed and checked the screen. "Alice". She chewed the cap of her pen.

Then she shook her head and started writing again. Do no harm, in this case, meant doing nothing at all.

Devise

She could not devise another trap to trick me. She could not make me think she was real. I saw through her facade of indifference, saw past her manipulative words. I may have dreamt something different, but I know the truth when my eyes are open.

Predication

At night, I went to the new unfinished house. I wanted him to meet me there, but I didn't call. I guess I wanted him to read my mind too.

Among the bare two-by-fours and naked insulation, the unsanded floors and the roof of sky, I'd never felt so at home. I danced a little in the center room, envisioning marble and tile and white paint and fresh flowers. I thought about his scent wafting down from the bathroom, his voice carrying down the hall. I imagined what it might be like, the two of us...

Maybe this was my dream house more than the ones I'd talked about. Maybe the unfinished product was better than the finished one. Maybe the dream was better than the reality.

Slipshod

The little girl's shoes squeaked as she wandered the aisles. "Mommy?" she whispered. She couldn't bring herself to yell. The squeak of her sneakers was the loudest sound she made.

She feared she might never be found.

Requisite

He turned in the requisite forms and waited. He waited days, then weeks, then years. Finally, he gave up.

One day it came. His hands shook as he held the letter. It was in a plain white envelope. How could something so important come in such a plain white envelope? It didn't seem right.

"Dear Mr. Morris, We are pleased to inform you that we may have found..."

His vision began to fade around the edges. He sat down and took deep breaths. He reached up to loosen his tie.

He was finally going to have a family. Someone to love, someone to be loved by. This was it, he could tell, and he had never been so happy. He thought he might die. But he couldn't, not when he'd finally been given this chance. So he steadied himself, stood up, and went to the phone.

"Hello? This is Mr. Morris. I've just received your letter..."

Doggerel

Long and slim like her clarinet, Jeannie sat in the stairwell and practiced. Her blond bangs fell into her eyes but she continued to read the notes on the page, ignoring the itch and the sting. Her father's words rang in her ear: "You will never be the best. You're just a worthless little bitch, and I'm sorry that you're mine." As tears rolled down her cheeks, she kept her face impassive and willed the notes and their echoes to drown out her own mind.

She was going to prove him wrong.