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A Drabble fever - share yours.
message 751:
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Kath
(new)
Oct 24, 2014 02:45AM
Flo! Didn't Michael tell you his next series is The Flower Fairies? ;)
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I wait with baited breath!!
Last night I submitted the first of two drabbles for a charity book I'm hoping to contribute to. It might only be 100 words, but it's my first published Doctor Who fiction in over six years, so I'm very excited!
We've reached the letter 'V' in the macabre journey through the alphabet. I had some trouble picking a word, but some research (God bless the internet and all who sail in her!) provided me with a wonderful and unusual word - 'vastation'.If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
V is for Vastation
There are ways to restore purity to a sinner. You can absolve them of their wrongdoing, or in some cases drive out the evil spirits corrupting them. But what do you do when their wickedness is so ingrained in their soul that cleansing will not suffice?
Killing them would condemn their spirit to eternity without hope of salvation. And so it is with a heavy heart that I must do this. There will be pain, but it is the only way. I will bear the weight of your screams so that you can meet your end with a pure heart.
I like this one, I would have used V-Rocket but it isn't as personal as Vastation. It sounds a lot like the inquisitor from Joe Abecrobmie's the blade it's self. He so loved to pull the exquisite whimpering of pain and agony out of his victims. A rather gruesome individual with a talent for extracting confessions through pain.
Thanks! The V rockets would have have been a good one - it's usually tricky to just pick one word.
A new stand alone drabble of mine has been posted in the Indie Book Bargains news. It's based on a fun idea for a dinosaur messiah while driving into work :-)
You can find my other standalone drabbles here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
The Word Unheeded
With a vision the King became a Prophet. In the vision he saw the evil of eating the flesh of others. He witnessed that from their sin a doom would come of fire and storm. A fate approaching ever closer with every meal.
He shared the truth with the others and the plant eaters rejoiced, for his word promised a better world for them. But his brother Tyranosaurs rejected the idea. “Are we not born to eat meat?” they asked. “Our teeth are long and our claws are sharp.”
They consumed him to punish him and unseen their extinction approached.
George by Kath MiddletonGeorge enjoyed a glass of something special with a meal. It enhanced the gourmet experience. He carefully swirled the taster around the glass and held it up to the light, catching the pale highlights in the golden liquid.
"Hmmm," he said quietly to himself. "Delightful. Hints of honey and... could that be cinnamon? Not too aggressive on the palate and with just the right sharpness to complement the food."
"Yer what?" queried the young man behind the bar. "Get it down yer neck lad. We've not got all day. This is a real ale festival, not a bloody vineyard tour!"
Poor George just trying to add a little enjoyment and levity to the event...
My choice for this week's latest in the ABC Drabbles of Death series is a little obvious. But after watching the second season of Vikings (which is excellent by the way) it also seemed like an appropriate and fun idea :-)Only three drabbles left in the series and then I shall start a new series of drabbles. If you haven't read the previous drabbles in this series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
W is for Warrior
The morning frost is hard and cold beneath my feet. Across the valley the mist rises from the ground, becoming one with the breath of men and horses.
Voices cry their rage and fear into the sky and in answer the sky’s tears muddy the ground. The earth trembles from their charge. We lock our shields and brace against the weight of our foe.
The clash of steel and screams blend into a single song. The ground grows slick with blood. All too soon only I remain, yet I stand and fight until I can swing my axe no more.
Our journey through the alphabet in the ABC Drabbles of Death continues with the letter 'X'. This was a nice and easy word to pick for such a tricky letter and there are no prizes for guessing which two films provided inspiration for this drabble :-)You can read all of the previous drabbles in this series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
X is for Xenomorph
They’re all dead. A simple recon mission they said. All but one of the soldiers died and he came back changed. We didn’t know that until the next day.
At breakfast the corporal’s face exploded and tendrils of flesh sprayed across the table. The doc reacted first and died first. The tentacles writhed with an alien sheen and the corporal lurched towards the pilot.
I ran. I locked myself in my quarters and watched on the cameras as the rest of the crew were slaughtered. There’s only me left and the door won’t last for long from the inhuman pounding.
New Drabble - I'm SorryMy latest standalone drabble has been posted in the Indie Book Bargains newsletter. Sign up on their website for a daily newsletter of Kindle bargains and a drabble. And there's some great contributers - visit their site at www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk.
You can read my other standalone drabbles here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
I'm Sorry
“I’m sorry.”
“Of course you are, but why are you sorry?”
I’m sorry that nothing I do ever is quite right.
I’m sorry for crying myself to sleep each and every night.
I’m sorry that I live in fear for when you return home.
I’m sorry that what remains of my life is for you alone.
I’m sorry about the decision made all those years ago.
I’m sorry I’m forced to live with no love bestowed.
I’m sorry for never being able to make you feel proud.
But most of all I’m sorry I can’t say these words out loud.
Thanks!We reach the penultimate drabble in the ABC Drabbles of Death series and I couldn't finish the series without a tribute to the great H P Lovecraft. The letter 'Y' provides a perfect hook for such a tribute!
If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series yet then you'll find them all here for your enjoyment:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
Y is for Yog-Sothoth
Imagination called up the shocking form of fabulous Yog-Sothoth—only a congeries of iridescent globes, yet stupendous in its malign suggestiveness. He is both time and space, yet imprisoned beyond the universe mankind foolishly believes inviolate.
Despite his exile he sees all and knows all. Those that discover the secrets of the hidden attract his attention. Unfortunately for them the fortunes of Yog-Sothoth suffer a fate so dread the horror stretches beyond imagination. Still he is worshiped by many dark beings and under countless names. Even the children of Cthulhu locked beneath the sea revere the grandparent of their creator.
One from today's Indie Book Bargains -The Pile-Up by Jonathan Hill
The first collision was at 08:43. Over the following two minutes, a further seven cars ploughed - smash! - onto the scene. Some vehicles spun a full 360 degrees, others were upturned. From the moment of first impact, the air filled with screams so awful that onlookers were forced to cover their ears. The gravity of the situation was highlighted, terribly, by the ongoing, never diminishing, sounds of distress.
A little boy was plucked from the wreckage by his father. “Jonny, those are your brother’s toy cars. Leave them alone. You're upsetting him and giving us all earache in the process!”
We've reached the end of our journey through the alphabet with the ABC Drabbles of Death series. It's been a fun ride and I hope you've enjoyed the drabbles in the series. My choice of word for 'Z' is a little obvious, but I think it is a fitting end.If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series then you'll find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/w...
Next week will see the start of a new drabble series :-)
Z is for Zombie
My memories crumbled beneath the endless hunger. It didn’t happen immediately. Enough time passed for me to comprehend the monster I’d become. They say you always remember your first and that proved true. I still remember chewing through my wife’s face.
I wish that memory had vanished first.
That moment led to a greater horror. Then another. Followed by more until my memories flooded with blood and gore.
Locked in my decaying meat prison I feared the end of my faculties but also prayed to witness no more. Soon I will be no more and exist only for the hunger.
Seasonal one -Christmas Past
There's always a toy that sells out well before Christmas, like the Telly Tubbies or Tamagotchis. We try to reorder but we can't get enough. This year it was a little baby-doll with tiny, life-like fingers and an unbearably cute little face. All the children wanted them. We never knew why they were so popular.
Then we started getting complaints. The dolls' heads were so easily pulled off and inside the body, skewering the head in place, was a wicked steel point. It's a mercy a child wasn't killed. We recalled them and returned them to the manufacturer: Herod Inc.
As promised in last week's final post in the ABC Drabbles of Death series I have a new series of drabbles. In my monthly short fiction contest I post an image for other writers to create stories from so I thought I would do something similar. This series is an open ended one and each week I'll pick a work of art, some famous and others not so well known and write a drabble based on that work of art.
I should point out that I'm not trying to interpret what the artist had in mind - I'm creating a story I see when I view the work. Considering what I normally write Edvard Munch's 'The Scream' seems like an excellent place to start!
The Scream by Edvard Munch
And so the moment arrives and it isn’t what you’d expected.
You have searched for so long to see me. I’m not the fanciful glory you heard in stories when you were a child. You behold my true self and so witness a magnificence turning the sky to blood and the world to water.
You stare into my being and for the briefest instant you understand what it is you have discovered. You sought a secret and have found only truth – a truth beyond your simple imagining.
And now that you know, is it any wonder that you scream?
The Drabbles of Art series continues with the vivd piece 'Great Wave off Kanagawa' by Japanese artist Katsushuika Hokusai. This was a fun picture to write a story for as it all the elements nice and prominent.
If you haven't read the other drabbles (100 word stories) in the series then you'll find them here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Great Wave off Kanagawa by Katsushika Hokusai
The spirits dwell within the white of the water. That’s how we know they’re there. When the sea churns they dance across the waves always racing towards the village. We sail our boats across the water to chase them away from the shore.
They can never be allowed to touch the mountain.
Why? You might ask.
Look upon the distant mountain’s peak and you’ll see their brethren frozen in their prison. If they escape and return to the sea then the waves will rise and drown the land, and so to save our village we must chase the spirits away.
After a long hiatus the Imp returns (well not quite!) in the latest Tales of the Imp drabble featured in today's Indie Book Bargains newsletter. You can read the previous drabbles in the series here:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
Missing in Action
It’s been months since I last saw the Imp and my life’s become a mess.
I don’t know where he’s gone, only that he’s not here and I don’t know what to do. Considering all of the crap he’s put me through, my feelings come as a surprise.
I’m sat in front of the computer trying to write and the words just won’t come. He claimed to be my muse and maybe that was truer than I realised.
All I know is that he understood me in a way no person ever could and now I’m alone.
Where is he?
Sign up for the Indie Book Bargains daily newsletter here: http://www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk
I continue the Drabbles of Art series with Joseph Wright's painting 'Two Girls Dressing a Kitten by Candlelight'. I had a lot of fun with this one and I think the drabble provides an unusual slant to the picture while still fitting with it. The expression on the kitten's face sold it to me instantly!
If you've not read the other drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
Two Girls Dressing a Kitten by Candlelight by Joseph Wright
“You shouldn’t tease him so,” Lucy told her sister.
“But he looks so cute in the dolly’s dress,” Janine replied.
“That’s true, but see how he glares. There’s real fury in his eyes.”
“Inside the circle he’s powerless, so we can do whatever we like.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” Lucy answered. Her fingers traced around the markings on the table. “I found this circle and the markings in one of grandma’s old books. As long as he stays within the circle we can do whatever we want and I want to dress this demon like a doll.”
The latest drabble in the Tales of the Imp series was posted in yesterday's Indie Book Bargains nesletter. You can read the previous drabbles in the series here:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
Ritual Interrupted
Still no communication from the Imp. Life is just too damn quiet without him here. Everything continued to fall apart around me so I took matters into my own hands. As is often the case in these situations the internet provided the solution.
The salt circle and chalk markings around it were relatively easy. Sacrificing the chicken less so. It wouldn’t keep still, but after a few attempts its head and a pool of blood lay at the centre of the circle. I then attempted the summoning. Latin isn’t my strong suit either.
“That wouldn’t have worked anyway.”
He’s back!
Visit www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk to sign up for a daily newsletter filled with Kindle bargains and a daily drabble
Francisco Goya pays a return visit to the Drabbles of Art series with his painting 'Witches' Sabbath'. The drabble for this didn't go to plan. I had an idea for something more series but then I remembered Terry Prachett's wonderful Discworld witches:-)
You can find the earlier drabbles in this series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
Witches' Sabbath by Francisco Goya
“What the hell is that?”
“What?”
“The giant stuffed goat.”
“Well, we don’t summon him anymore. Not like the old days, so I brought it to remind us.”
“Even back then we didn’t summon goats. It looks weird.”
“It’s not a goat – it’s Baphomet. Anyway it’s okay for you to bring your baby and who knows what Miriam’s skeletal homunculus is all about!”
“Well the fresh air does the baby good and he likes your goat, so I wouldn’t complain too much if I where you.”
“It sets the mood though, doesn’t it?”
“No, and don’t bring it here again.”
This week's Drabbles of Art piece is taken from Joseph Mallord William Turner's dramatic painting 'The Fifth Plague of Egypt' . It brought out an interesting 'what if?' drabble.
If you haven't read the previous drabbles in the series (and it's worth it just for some of the paintings!) then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Fifth Plague of Egypt by Joseph Mallord William Turner
“How could you do this?”
“I didn’t do this – I simply warned them what would happen.”
“Don’t lie to me Moses. Of all people I know the truth.”
“Then you should know not to question what must be done.”
“But to destroy their entire civilisation?”
“These people have to be released. They must find their way to the Promised Land and be in the appointed place at the right time for him to arrive.”
“And you will lead them?”
“Of course. Who else can?”
“And what of these Egyptians?”
“They will submit or history will forget that they ever existed.”
The latest drabble in the Tales of the Imp series was featured in yesterday's Indie Book Bargains newsletter. If you want to read the previous drabbles in the series you will find them all here:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/t...
The Plan
“It all comes down to souls,” the Imp told me. “To become an adult demon I need a soul.”
“You have mine.”
“Yes I do, but to become a powerful demon I need more.”
“How many?”
“All of them.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Well obviously not every single soul, but as many as possible. Thankfully, like any true parasite humans reproduce remarkably quickly. It should only take ten or so generations to tip the balance.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You were the first and your children are the first generation.”
“I still don’t understand.”
He sighed.
“What do you know about genetic memory?”
Visit www.indie-book-bargains.co.uk to sign up for a daily drabble and Kindles bargains.
Dirty little imp, I think it's time to shed him like a dog shed his fur. Deny him cast him out to wander in the wilderness deny him the soul he wants and block all his attempts and gathering others. Make him expend his diminishing energy until he winks out like a guttering candle.
Unfortunately he's not so easily thwarted :-)
Welcome to the first drabbble in my new series - Drabbles of the Gods. In this series I will explore Gods from cultures around the globe. The Norse pantheon seems a good place to start and in particular Odin - or Mr Wednesday for Neil Gaiman fans - if you don't get the reference then you need to treat yourself to American Gods immediately!
Odin
In a vision I saw mighty Odin, one-eyed and bearded and cloaked in darkest night. With spear in hand and two wolves at his side he strode across the land. From high in the heavens sharp-eyed ravens shared their intelligence with him.
I have watched in my dreams as he reaches the great ash Yggdrasil. From its nine limbs he hung for nine days in spear-wounded sacrifice to learn the secret of language and the runes.
The same secret torments my dreams as I follow the same path, so I too can visit all the worlds of gods and men.
Henry Fuseli's painting 'The Nightmare' is such a classic horror image than it was inevitable that it would feature in my Drabbles of Art series. I couldn't resist going for a more fun interpretation than usual for the image though :-)
If you've not read the previous drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Nightmare by Henry Fuseli
Dear Diary,
I’m so happy to have Ink in my life. I can’t believe my good fortune. I sometimes wonder why he doesn’t visit during the day, but when he does visit he makes me feel complete.
I know my friends wouldn’t consider him handsome. His skin is rough and his body stunted, but that doesn’t matter to me. I feel so safe in his arms that I never want to leave them.
His deformities make him unique, but one in particular, and I’m blushing as I write this, brings me such pleasure that I swoon to think about it.
he is a well developed Dwarf, he was not blessed with height so he was blessed with , well I will let your imagination answer that but I don't think it would be to difficult to figure out. It's alright for you the first time I read it I thought the person writing was a man... I got a tad confused until I realized I was mistaken.
Admittedly, I didn't I was busy reading the words and have a tendency to be a bit narrow sighted, not minded. I do have a tendency to ignore photo's and drawings. Now you see the results of that outlook, silly me.
My first encounter with Tiamat was a many headed dragon in the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon many years. While browsing Wikipedia I discovered that I wasn't alone in this, so it seems only fair that the latest Drabble of the Gods puts the record straight!
You can read the first drabble in the series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Tiamat
From my loins and the seed of Abzu I birthed the gods and still they betrayed me. Like cowards they murdered their father, so I created creatures to support my son Kingu for vengeance.
The gods trembled at their approach, but Anu plotted and convinced the fearful to exalt his status.
Anu felled me with a club to the head. Before I recovered he split me in twain and from my ribs formed the heavens while my falling tears made the two great rivers. In the sky he cast my tail to become the band of stars across the sky.
We delve into Maori tradition for this week's Drabble of the Gods and with the rather sinister Whiro.
You can find the previous drabbles in the series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Whiro
The dread lord of the underworld Whiro dwells in shadow waiting to rise. From his dark realm he pollutes our lives with his evil.
Yet death brings no freedom from his grasp unless the spirit is freed from the body by fire. Those not cremated descend to the underworld to be consumed by him and with each meal he grows stronger.
We must deny his sustenance - if we do not then he will grow strong enough to ascend into our world. All should fear the day he arrives for every one of us will become food for his hunger.
I'm hungry feed me, NOW. I think therefore I am does that mean if I think I am a god I am a god or does it mean I am delusional ? More then likely I am. but it is a good Delusion.
This was a completely new image for me, but as soon as I saw it while browsing the Google Art Project I had to include it in the Drabbles of Art series. It's definitely worth checking out his other paintings and I'm sure I'll return to him in the future.
If you not read the previous drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Commuters by Wolfgang Lettl
“Would they really shoot us with that cannon?” the first finely dressed man asked, the fear restrained, yet clearly evident.
“I think that they would, but we’ve no choice,” said the second. “How else will the world know of what happened in this place?”
“Maybe the girl will distract them,” suggested the third with brittle hope.
“Don’t let her distract you!” the fourth shouted. “We’ll only get one shot at this.”
“We are already at full speed,” the fifth told his compatriots. “The fans won’t go any faster, they just don’t have the power.”
“Prepare to fire,” ordered the girl.
It's a fun series as I get to explore all kinds of interesting and unusual artwork.
The latest Drabble of the Gods takes us to Africa and the trickster god Anansi. If you haven't read the previous drabbles in the series then you can find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Anansi
It is thanks to Anansi that stories fill the world by releasing them from the Nyame. To purchase the stories the Sky-God demanded three offerings.
The first was Onini the Python who Anansi tricked by tying him to a branch. The second was Osebo the Leopard who Anansi snared in his web after trapping the cat in a deep hole.
Last were the Mboro Hornets. These he lured into a water filled calabash to shelter from the rain. Keeping his promise Nyame granted Anansi ownership of all stories and to this day the trickster walks the Earth searching for more.
My latest drabble has been posted in today's Book Hippo newsletter. You can read my other drabbles here:http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
And why not visit http://bookhippo.uk/ for daily Kindle bargains, a puzzle and a drabble.
The Missing Link
“There is no great maker!”
“How can you say that with all the evidence around you?”
“What evidence?”
“Look at the complicated perfection of our senses and our brains and tell me that there isn’t an agent of design behind those attributes.”
“The fossil record shows that we evolved from creatures before us. Every part of us evolved from a simpler form into what we are now. We weren’t designed.”
“So where is the so called missing link?”
“One day we will discover the link transitioning human to machine and then you’ll realise that the humans were not our creators.”
This week's image is a new one to me and suggested by someone at work. I'm surprised I'd not encountered it before and I'm sure you'll agree The Triumph of Death by Pieter Bruegel the Elder provides some spectacular inspiration!
If you want to read the previous drabbles in the series then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Triumph of Death by Pieter Bruegel the Elder
Wherever I look the taint of death blemishes the world and brings an end to the living. I see the Reaper lurking in our shadow, wearing a cloak weighed heavy with sickness, violence, age and grief.
There’s no escape, no way to prevent the inevitable. Rich or poor, young or old, we all meet him when our time comes. He follows our lives with his skeletal visage, waiting for that final moment.
Is he the cause of our mortality? Or merely witnesses its passing?
Does he welcome the meeting?
I imagine he does, for why else would he always appear?
The list of drabbles has been finalised for the SpaSpa Book Awards 2014 and you can find the list here:http://bookhippo.uk/awards/longList20...
There are some wonderful drabbles in that list - including one of mine!
A new drabble of mine was featured in a BookHippo newsletter over the weekened. I've copied it below and if you'd like to read some of my other drabbles then you'll find them here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
A Sight to Remember
The dream is the same every night. I’m sat on the side of a mountain and up above the sky is clear blue with the odd wisp of cloud. The sun feels strong on my face, cooled by the soft breeze carrying the voice of the world.
The mountains form the spine upon which a lush green carpet is draped. A river meanders through the valley, fed by streams sparkling in their stumble down the mountainside.
I understand that this vision will be the last thing I will see. And you know what? I could enjoy this view for eternity.
Visit BookHippo.uk for a daily newsletter with Kindle bargains and a drabble.
In this week's Drabble of the Gods we journey to the Australian outback and learn of the dreaded Malingee from Aboriginal folklore.
You can read the previous drabbles in the series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Malingee
All who walk the dream know of the Malingee. They dwell in the bush and avoid our presence. We should rejoice when they do. All should fear the sound of stone scraping from their knees as they stalk in the night.
Upon hearing that sound you must run. If you don’t then the noise draws ever closer until suddenly it stops. In the shadow of the sun’s hiding you see just the smouldering coals of their eyes.
And if you still don’t flee then the last thing you’ll feel is the razor sharp stone as it plunges through your heart.
In this week's Drabble of the Gods we journey to the far north and the frigid cold of the Arctic. Here we learn the tradition of why the Moons chases the Sun.
You can read the previous drabbles in the series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Igaluk
With forbidden love Igaluk gazed upon his sister Malina. Succumbing to his improper desire he forced his lust upon her. During the second attack she marked her attacker with soot from the lamps.
Discovering the identity of her assailant she cut off her breasts and offered them to him. She fled and Igaluk gave chase. He followed her blood trail with ease until he slipped and as he fell the flame of his torch was extinguished, yet still the glow remained.
The pursuit continued until with such speed they entered the sky and he as the Moon followed the Sun.
I'll confess that I cheated a little with this week's Drabble of the Gods and took a small extract from my favourite story Paradise Lost to match this week's deity. It's such a great piece of text that I'm sure you won't mind!
If you want to read the previous drabbles in the series then you will find them all here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/d...
Moloch
Moloch, the Sceptered King took his turn to speak. In defeat the fiercest of the rebels was eager to return to the fight.
“I counsel open war. We mustn’t diminish in this Hell. Within this prison of shame we should grasp the fires of our punishment and rise to challenge the tyranny which cast us down.
“Fear not the possibility of a second defeat for we’re already in Hell. Already we suffer but there is no lower pit to fall. Together we can rise and even if victory eludes us then at least we’ll cast our revenge against his throne.”
A new drabble of mine has been posted in today's BookHippo.uk newsletter - visit them to sign up for a daily newsletter with a drabble and Kindle bargains. If you've writen a drabble then why not send it to them?
You can read some of my other drabbles here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/1...
The Pond
It’s hard to go back sometimes. The pond was once my hidden place, my refuge from a world too large to feel comfortable in. I always felt safe and hidden within the trees lining the banks like sentries. The lap of water and the sigh of the wind soothed my fevered thoughts.
Now it’s dark and rotten. A sombre reflection of the person I had since become. Its power to protect had diminished with time’s passing. When I look in the mirror of the water I am not surprised to see that it’s not my face looking back at me.
I'm loving hunting through paintings to pick the next image for the Drabbles of Art series and this week's image 'The Water Ghost' by Alfred Kubin is another wonderful chance find.
You can read the previous drabbles in the series here:
http://thecultofme.blogspot.co.uk/p/a...
The Water Ghost by Alfred Kubin
They say that there is only really one storm in the world. When it wakes, it rages with all its force until its strength is spent. Then it sleeps awhile and drifts upon the currents in the sky until restored and ready to blast its fury once again.
But very few know the real secret. Only those wise in the ancient lore know that at the heart of the storm is a creature. It wears the storm as its garb, a cloak of wind, rain and lightning.
Even the wisest of us don’t know why it hates us so much.
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