fiction, poetry and musings

by Laogeodritt

The words in his heart

The words are
even to say the simplest thing
(To express — to speak — to tell)
And yet
of infinite choices no one is equal.

The dragon flies

Wind upon my face, and in my ears
the roar
and my hands gripping a horn.
The air smells fresh and sweet
with notes of barbecue —
a scent from long ago.

As the others dance

The door
Towers above you
Grand. Majestic.
Carved ornate motifs in gilded wood
and metal
and marble all around
inviting you into its world.

The flames danced in the breeze

The flames danced in the breeze. Ling watched the line of birth-day candles beside her. She remembered the day she’d made them. As soon as Xiaoshū had announced her pregnancy, she’d hopped to work: collecting the lotus flowers, infusing the beeswax, decorating the candles. Then they’d burnt them halfway, the day Yuling was born, to welcome her to the realm of the Earth Dragon. As was their Duty.

The Potential of a Duck

Quack! Like a duck!

What Does It Matter?

Having just received the news of Sarah’s death, Laura prepares to return home. As she waits at the bus stop, her thoughts scatter into the storm.

Ghosts of the Woods

Laura inherits her childhood home. As she tries to clean it up, she finds the place haunted by the ghosts of her past.

Hi, Mister Bus

On her way from an audition, Laura meets an old friend. A lot has changed for her since the last time they spoke.