Amelie Marine
Bio
striving for the laurel & lyre
Stories (7/0)
Panegyricus Iuliani Augusti
The peerless poets of the gods have passed into Elysium, and so, O Emperor, the task of singing your accomplishments has fallen to me. Numerous and great, your deeds have swept over this long-troubled land as the purifying sea rushes over a parched sandy shore, its waters smoothing the rough grains that grate and vex. Though my voice be but a dry whisper before the perfumed gale of Homer’s thundering verse, a rude stutter beside Vergil’s spiced and honeyed words, it must suffice.
By Amelie Marine3 years ago in Journal
Cocaine Blues
I have a salt deficency. It’s a medical fact. I’ve had my share of blood tests, and my sodium count just barely clears the minimum threshold. I love salt in any form: piles poured into the palm of my hand and consumed, crunchy flakes on the rim of a glass, grains nibbled off the tops of fancy caramels. An old partner of mine even gave me a Himalayan pink salt cube on a rope as a joke. Joke’s on him. I licked that cube into an ugly orb by the end of that school year. And I won’t lie, I’ve been tempted more than once by my salt lamp nightlight.
By Amelie Marine3 years ago in Humans
The Marvel of Temerant
Of all the fantasy worlds I’ve loved before, did I ever fall the way I fell for the world of Temerant? The Name of the Wind unfurled a narrative tapestry so rich and delightful that I read it, and The Wise Man’s Fear, each seven times the year I discovered them. Seven times, of course, for all the sevens that appear in these enchanted pages. What makes this world stand apart from the rest? There are many things. But perhaps the key to its singularity is that it begins in defeat –the hero in hiding– bitter and burdened by remorse and regret.
By Amelie Marine3 years ago in Fiction
Marvels of Temerant
Of all the fantasy worlds I’ve loved before, did I ever fall the way I fell for the world of Temerant? The Name of the Wind unfurled a narrative tapestry so rich and delightful that I read it, and The Wise Man’s Fear, each seven times the year I discovered them. Seven times, of course, for all the sevens that appear in these enchanted pages. What makes this world stand apart from the rest? There are many things. But perhaps the key to its singularity is that it begins in defeat –the hero in hiding– bitter and burdened by remorse and regret.
By Amelie Marine3 years ago in Fiction