fever

He sat there, at the dining table, staring intently at the bowl. He pulled the blanket tightly around himself as another round of shivers wracked through him.

A strange face peered at him suspiciously from the water. It was a gaunt face, with sunken cheeks and a pair of dark haunted eyes. The lean hungry face was framed by a shock of oily hair plastered to the scalp with week-old stubbles lining his jawline.

He was about to ask the stranger who he was, when a tiny sane voice seeped through the murky waters of his mind. The muffled voice revealed the identity of the strange man.

The clouds cleared a little and he remembered he was not scrying. That was not a scrying bowl.

Bits of his memories started to piece together. He remembered then. He was waiting.

Soon. The Time was coming.

He whispered a prayer of strength to the gods. He needed all the help he could get to keep the sickness at bay just for a little while more. He needed the strength to stay conscious. He has too.

Yes. He remembered then. He had to complete the Pact.

A stirring in the water. He watched patiently.

---

She peeled herself out of the pupa and stretched her tiny wings for the first time.

Hunger.

---

He watched intently as she emerged from the waters. She stretched her wings languidly as he admired her striped curves.

It is time. He offered his arm to her.

She sunk her proboscis into him and drank hungrily.

The Pact is complete. He smiled.

A sigh of release escaped from his lips as the darkness enveloped him.  ¶


15:21 by aberwyn 3 comments

The Wise Man Says...

When a man is unreasonable, she will remember him as a bastard.

When a woman is unreasonable, he will attribute it to the time of the month and sigh in resignation.

------

What do you do when you are not amused by your muse anymore?  ¶


14:04 by aberwyn 7 comments