A collection of multi-genre stories.
From turbulent skies and stormy seas to magical lands and wintry forests, this is a journey which will awaken some of your deepest emotions. Mysterious creatures and peoples from a myriad of worlds, including...
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Dawn and she sat staring out of the frost-patterned window. The soft yellow glow of a new day slowly crept across the crisp, white landscape blessing it with colour - with life. She caught her breath. Life.
The house was filled with boxes; all her - their - belongings, crammed into cardboard and taped securely. The rooms echoed with every sound, from a footfall, to the crackling fire in the grate, to a whisper and countless sobs. Tomorrow she would leave her past behind and venture to a new, lonely and quiet existence.
Quiet. No longer would she hear him composing on his baby grand, or working with the audio interface in his studio. There he constructed basslines, beats, themes and choral arrangements for his next haunting creation. The synthesizers, guitars, flute, clarinet, violin; she smiled, that was not his best instrument, bless him, thank goodness for technology - everything would be forever silent now.
How she'd marvelled at his creativity. He would work for hours sometimes days on one 5-10 minute piece, tweaking, re-arranging, perfecting it before he let the world hear his latest masterpiece on Youtube. Such talent. Stolen. The world was now robbed of such beauty.
She never quite understood where he derived his inspiration, although he had tried to explain on numerous occasions. "You, my love," he would say, smiling, tracing her cheek with his fingers. She would smile and nuzzle into him and he explained further. "Listen, and you will hear, watch and you will see. Embrace life and it will sing for you. As will I - always."
But, still, it did not register with her. She was not that gifted. Her offering to the world came in the form of short stories published in magazines, mainly romantic with a sprinkling of fantasy or sometimes even a touch melancholy. His music was her inspiration. A myriad of pictures formed in her head from those melodies and they guided her fingers as her imagination played out over a different type of keyboard.
Since the accident, she had not written a single word. She was lost without his music; without him. And tomorrow she would be leaving their home. To stay was too painful, too quiet.
She jumped as an icicle dropped in front of the window. It shattered on the sill, little shards tinkling over the concrete. She stared at it. Then another fell, and another.
As the sun rays touched the glass, the frost patterns began to melt. Pressing her ear to the pane, she could hear the light rasp as the ice receded.
A log shifted in the grate and crackling and spitting sounded from the fire. She rose up and went to check no embers had landed on the rug. There were none. The flames simply danced in the grate.
Something happened at that moment. A realisation. A dawning.
She moved to the hall and opened the front door. She was greeted by a harmonious chorus of birdsong. A breeze stirred the branches and shrubs along the path, their gentle rustling like whispers. In the distance, an owl was saying farewell to the night and deer were barking 'good morning' in the hills. The landscape welcomed the new day as the sun kissed the snow, making it sparkle.
Tears welled. Finally, she understood. "Listen, and you will hear, watch and you will see. Embrace life and it will sing for you. As will I - always."
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