Mollykin Warble
Bio
Stories (3/0)
Invisible Photograph
Some nights I dream of springtime: the riotous explosion of green. The shoots so tender, yet so robust and tenacious, they could hold up the brilliant sky even before the leaves come out; so full of promise, it’s agony to wait for the buds to burst. But those dreams come from a time long before you arrived.
By Mollykin Warble3 years ago in Humans
The Matchmaker's Dirge
What is the creative impulse if not love? Love of the medium, the tools, the process, the result. Certainly there is alchemy in creating; all makers recognize this and revel in its dance. But when we create for others, there is another, secret magic, a tenderness that cannot be replicated elsewhere. In crafting a gift, the maker’s mind can’t help but be occupied with quiet, smiling thoughts of the intended recipient. Like a husband-to-be daydreaming of his betrothed, the maker is captivated by fond memories and anticipation. The challenge of matching a precious loved one to the perfect gift, the hope for delight on their face when the match is a good one, the gratification of a job well done – all these elements combine to transform the unsuspecting recipient into a sort of muse, and to amplify the creative process into something like an addiction. It becomes an urge, a compulsion, a need so undeniable that other obligations might fall by the wayside.
By Mollykin Warble3 years ago in Humans
Entropy
“So that’s what twenty thousand dollars looks like,” John Denison mused as he squinted through the money blizzard. Struggling to make out his surroundings from his current position—supine on sandy terrain—he wondered at his conviction that he was, in fact, seeing $20 000 cash fluttering around. How would he possibly know that?
By Mollykin Warble3 years ago in Horror