stillsostrange (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stillsostrange) wrote2007-02-17 08:57 pm
stillsostrange) wrote2007-02-17 08:57 pm
Metrics and a meme
TDC
43/90, I think
Words today: 765
Words total: 61065
I miss zokutou. :(
At least I'm working on mostly new stories the last few months.
"Bone Garden"
They found the girl unconscious on the doorstep an hour before dawn.
Nothing unusual, someone passed out in this neighborhood, but she looked too tattered and threadbare for the usual clientele. Gentian and Val exchanged a glance, and Gentian knelt to check her pulse. Faint and steady, her wrist cold and bird-fragile between his fingers, the bones in her hands sharp as sticks in a fan. She stank of incense and unwashed hair, but not wine.
"Corpselight"
Fog rolls over the bayou, smoke and mirrors. Night coming on, and the sky already the color of marmalade, dripping thick and sticky through the trees. Memory crouches in the crook of a black willow, five trunks cupped around her like a giant's hand. Black willow for divination, the witch says, and if Memory listens close to the sighing branches, sometimes she hears things.
Today the tree says something's coming.
"Music From a Farther Room"
Alex found his wife waiting on the threshold, at the divide between memory and dream.
"The Tenderness of Jackals"
New line pending, as I think I need to switch pov.
"Teneral"
"Take off your mask," the arachne tells me.
"Wounded in the Wing"
The prey never sees her coming until it's too late.
Some nights she stoops from the sky, only a whisper of wind through night-soft feathers to warn them, a fall of shadow against the moonlight. Tonight she hunts more then mice and rabbits, and the Strix trades feathers for naked skin and walks the humans' bruising concrete streets.
The Carcosa story and the blind fairy story are waiting for more brain spores to root. "Inland" and/or "Salt" should start putting out too, as I need something to read at Wiscon.
43/90, I think
Words today: 765
Words total: 61065
I miss zokutou. :(
At least I'm working on mostly new stories the last few months.
"Bone Garden"
They found the girl unconscious on the doorstep an hour before dawn.
Nothing unusual, someone passed out in this neighborhood, but she looked too tattered and threadbare for the usual clientele. Gentian and Val exchanged a glance, and Gentian knelt to check her pulse. Faint and steady, her wrist cold and bird-fragile between his fingers, the bones in her hands sharp as sticks in a fan. She stank of incense and unwashed hair, but not wine.
"Corpselight"
Fog rolls over the bayou, smoke and mirrors. Night coming on, and the sky already the color of marmalade, dripping thick and sticky through the trees. Memory crouches in the crook of a black willow, five trunks cupped around her like a giant's hand. Black willow for divination, the witch says, and if Memory listens close to the sighing branches, sometimes she hears things.
Today the tree says something's coming.
"Music From a Farther Room"
Alex found his wife waiting on the threshold, at the divide between memory and dream.
"The Tenderness of Jackals"
New line pending, as I think I need to switch pov.
"Teneral"
"Take off your mask," the arachne tells me.
"Wounded in the Wing"
The prey never sees her coming until it's too late.
Some nights she stoops from the sky, only a whisper of wind through night-soft feathers to warn them, a fall of shadow against the moonlight. Tonight she hunts more then mice and rabbits, and the Strix trades feathers for naked skin and walks the humans' bruising concrete streets.
The Carcosa story and the blind fairy story are waiting for more brain spores to root. "Inland" and/or "Salt" should start putting out too, as I need something to read at Wiscon.
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