Harlequin Curio
Bio
I started writing stories of magic from a very young age when I wrote my first skit. I then studied English at University and while chasing adventures in dance and acting, I still haven’t quite kicked the writing habit.
Stories (8/0)
Coquí: Let Me Sing a Song for You
Introduction I am a fairytale and folklore geek. I hail from a small backwoods town in Connecticut. My grandfather is from Puerto Rico which make me a Quarter Rican. These three things are important to note as I tell you this story.
By Harlequin Curio 2 years ago in Fiction
Cat played the Fiddle
I never really loved anyone before Marsha. Honestly, I was a pretty selfish person until I stopped being a person. She couldn’t believe that a cat could read and write. I couldn’t believe her parents actually named her Marsha, but when you’re huddled under a collapsing cardboard box in the rain you don’t care what the person’s name is, that's putting a warm saucer of milk out for you. I wasn’t anyone’s pet but she was patient and eventually let me live in her apartment above the stationary shop that she worked at.
By Harlequin Curio 2 years ago in Fiction
My Fairytale Murder - Hometowns
A few years ago I was recording a fairy tale podcast with my friend, both of us inspired by our favorite podcast, My Favorite Murder. Ever since the beginning we wanted to do an homage episode with My Fairy Tale Murder. We each picked a fairy tale that featured a murder and covered the story in a similar fashion to the way that Karen and Georgia cover a true crime each week. Part of the episodes in the first couple years of MFM was reading home town murders that were written in by listeners. For our homage episode, I imagined what it would be like if some of our favorite fairy tale heroines & heroes wrote in their own home town murders...
By Harlequin Curio 2 years ago in Criminal
When the Fire Goes Out...
The crackling of fire transmuted into a hiss of dying embers with the toss of a bucket of water. The ears flicking out of the water, way back in the reeds, didn’t miss the sound. The merry band was winding down for the night, most of their whiskey drunk.
By Harlequin Curio 3 years ago in Fiction
Click
Andrea's fingers sent up a little puff of ash as she lifted the half charred picture. The edges were brown and bubbled a little. His smiling profile was barely recognizable being right at the burnt end of the photograph although his baseball cap and sweatshirt were still white. Well, that was useless. It was his smile she liked to see. Andrea sighed as her arm dropped to her side. She surveyed the huge mound of ash, charred wood, and black bricks that had been her home, still surrounded by the bright red and orange maple leaves, on and off the trees. Andrea closed her eyes and envisioned the picture of how her home had looked just that morning. A little red brick cottage covered in emerald vines, black shingles covered in green moss, a white door with a brass knocker and white curtains in the windows. Click. The picture came up perfectly in Andrea’s photographic memory. The wind rustled in the fiery leaves about the little cottage. Andrea opened her eyes and the same wind that rustled the leaves stirred up the ashes of what was left of her home.
By Harlequin Curio 3 years ago in Fiction
The Liberty of a Lady
My mother deceived my father with her lover in a pear tree. At least that's what Pyra said the servants were whispering. I could believe it. I shared my mother's sage green eyes and when the sun hit my hair you could see a copper luster that resembled her fiery locks. I looked nothing like my gray haired father. I was too dark, the summer sun loved my skin which kept it's nut brown sheen all winter. And too lean, my face resembled my horse more than my father but my long fingers were the delight of my music instructor who insisted I apply myself to the mandolin, harp and piano forte. The only wrinkle in the rumors woven by wagging tongues, was that we only had one pear tree on the whole property which confined my mother and I; and that had been planted at my birth.
By Harlequin Curio 3 years ago in Fiction
