We carried stories from town to town, transmitting parables like pathogens, connecting people via the thin threads of empathy and imagination who would otherwise never meet.
notte
So many things seem eternal, seem, in the moment, to be without end and culturally permanent scars. The great flood; the memory of dragons; the knowledge that there are demons in the dark.
A bit of writing process and a brand-new NOTTE snippet.
The tower was filled with breaking. Breaking wills, breaking minds, breaking cries. At every turn, every landing, even every stairwell, Saqalu draped and twisted, wings out, faces stretched, and if they were aware of me at all, they told me to run.
Flames dance thanks to exothermic reactions, a process that releases energy to its surroundings in the form of heat and light.
So did she.
She sort of… skipped, boots barely touching the treacherous ground, keeping on her feet even as I slipped and staggered and relied solely on her grip to keep me on mine.
Just a short, dark excerpt from my current WIP, Beloved Notte. Enjoy!
Yet another snippet from Notte! Unedited, messy, etc. Enjoy!
Horse’s instructions seemed simple: I was to find the city of Mercy; to locate the inn called Pearl’s Bottom; to rent a bed, yet not use it, and instead wait in the public room below for a week and a day.
“Do those you drink from die?”
“Yes,” I said. “But sometimes, they live.”