Aeviternity

Drabble 22 – Aeviternity

Aeviternity

Time by Stephano Papachristou

I went through a time travel phase when I was in high school. Not in the sense that I was actually time traveling, but in that time travel was all I wanted to write.

If I’m being honest, a good chunk of that was because I had read and loved The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger and wanted to try my hand at it. It wasn’t just that her main character traveled in time but the way that impacted his relationship and shaped him as a person who constantly came unstuck in time. I wasn’t interested so much in seeing distant pasts or far-off futures as I was in how time changes us.

Except, I discovered, time travel was difficult to write. It needed rules, or it needed a blatant disregard for rules that could be made up for in cool factor. I wasn’t a skilled enough writer to handle that at the time, and I moved on to be infatuated with other tropes. And here I am, some ten or more years later, trying to write another short (hundred word short) story about time travel by neatly sidestepping the issue entirely.

So here’s a drabble.

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Death's-Head Hawkmoth Mottephobia

Drabble 21 – Mottephobia

Death's-Head Hawkmoth Mottephobia

A Death’s-Head Hawkmoth, or my worst nightmare. Image Source: Double-M via Flickr.

Confession: this drabble is about me.

I’m terrified of moths. If you tell a child that moths eat people and you act convincingly enough, they’ll believe it. When they grow out of an age that might believe moths eat people, if you’ve done a good job, the fear will still linger. It doesn’t matter if they know that moths are relatively harmless creatures; just the sight of one flapping up against the glass at night will turn them into a shuddering mess.

If a moth gets into my car, I scream. If a moth lands on me, I’ll have a meltdown. Did you know that the powdery stuff on their wings is actually tiny hairs? Did you know that me knowing that fact comforts me not at all?

They’re furry and powdery and flap their wings too much. It really doesn’t matter if they don’t eat people at this point.

Anyway, here’s a drabble.

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Drabble 20 – Biblioclasm

Biblioclasm

The House of Leaves – Burning 4 by LeaningLark.

I am absolutely, undoubtedly, one-hundred percent devoted to books. I cherish my books. I buy new ones frequently. I buy multiple copies of the same book so that I can loan them or give them away to people I think will enjoy them.

That being said, I don’t think books are sacred. I mean that in the non-religious sense. I don’t personally enjoy reading on an e-reader, but that doesn’t mean it’s somehow not reading. I like audiobooks, and once had somebody ask me if it really counted as reading–maybe, maybe not, but when you consider that the oral tradition is our oldest form of storytelling, maybe things get a little more complicated.

When I buy a bad book (which I try not to do, but sometimes my romance novel whims get the better of me), sometimes I pass it on to Half Price Books for five cents. Sometimes I scribble on the pages. Sometimes I turn it into an art project or a blackout poem. I think the act of turning one art piece–and yes, trashy romance novels I don’t like are still art–into another is interesting, and I don’t feel guilty about destroying a mass-market paperback to make a new poem. Nor do I begrudge the person who took the above photo for destroying House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, a book I very much enjoyed.

On a personal level, burning a book isn’t the worst thing that could ever happen. I oppose the censorship of books on a mass scale–with guidance, I’m one-hundred percent okay with kids reading advanced, tricky, and even objectionable material (within reason, obviously–we don’t need to hand out my trashy romance novels to third graders).

If you’re going to burn a book, okay. Burn one book. But don’t burn all the books–that’s where I start to have a problem.

Anyway, here’s a drabble.

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Phytothropy

Drabble 19 – Phytothropy

Phytothropy

Apollo and Daphne by Veronese

I would just like to preface this drabble with the fact that this could have easily related to the story of Daphne and Apollo, but it doesn’t.

Anyway. I’m a fall person. I was born in the fall. I like fall colors. I like fall foods. I like Halloween and cold weather and scarves. I like it when the ground gets all frosty and crunches under your feet.

I’ve lived my entire life in the Pacific Northwest–AKA the Evergreen State–so while we may not get the beautiful fall colors of New England, we certainly have trees. I’m not going to say that I’ve ever wanted to transform into a tree (that actually sounds terrible), but the feeling of being surrounded by unfathomably tall trees feels a lot like home.

But then, I’m always thinking about growth, about growing thicker skin, about having deep roots and wide-open arms. Maybe I’m more like a tree than I think I am.

Anyway, here’s a drabble.

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Drabble 18 – Opia

Opia

Image Source: Aldo Danyel via Flickr.

I’m going to be completely honest: I’ve been at PAX Prime all this weekend and my brain has all the processing capability of oatmeal. Instead of writing personal musings about riding the bus, making accidental eye contact, and looking away, I’m going to let you fill in those blanks yourself.

You can also imagine that I talk a little about “real words” again, and whether words have any basis in reality or whether they’re just noises our mouths make and we attach a meaning to them because it’s convenient. Rather than diving into the meandering, philosophical thoughts on reality and language and narrative that are almost certainly the product of exhaustion, too many game demos, and mediocre convention food, I’ll let you imagine what that conversation is like and you can pretend we had it together.

Anyway, a drabble, written before PAX Prime and therefore very probably coherent. Meant to be posted last night, but WordPress didn’t feel like uploading images.

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