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The hardwood floor offered questioning notes under Quim's feet, echoed by the quiet treble of his whistling. Garrett manages to loosen his shoulders somewhat. His arms are terribly heavy even as he holds out a hand to Quim. The moment their fingers touch, he feels a trickle of comfort flow into the undercurrent of his being. 

"Did I spoil the night for you too?" Quim asks quietly. "Or is there some other lover keeping your thoughts?" 

Garrett has been breathing, but the slight chuckle still feels dry and cracked. Quim doesn't have to sense his worry. Garrett's voice is not trembling when he speaks, but it is strained.

"To think, how I used to hope for this day, not having a clue what magic was."

"Speak to me," Quim says quietly, lacing their fingers together. "Tell me of it." 

Quim guessed he had an idea what Garrett was talking about. Maybe not the specifics, but Quim remembered their days as children, imagining what Sire Grey might do to protect others from the Emissary King's reach. It makes the corners of Quim's eyes burn.

"I had hoped he would die. It seemed...the kindest thing for him. My mother knew better though, and your mother knew she was right."

"Not with any certainty, but with unfortunate probability."

"Did she know, even then, that not even the Sire could stay my father's hand?" Garrett shook his head. "We met as two children at the birth of a war. And now two children will die to end it." 

The silence lasts only so long. Quim's lips purse, parsing an old dirge out of air thick with words they might never say to each other.

Garrett's shoulders rise with a weary inhale. He begins to hum in harmony, and the stinging fades from Quim's eyes. Instead the laughter lines fill, spill, and his lips tremble. 

"Fish-fish, now," Quim hushes with a small measure of self-reproach.

Quim shakes his head and pulls away. He stands behind the recliner that has held him on many long nights and puts his hands on Garrett's shoulders. He cannot hide the way his heart hurts for the man, but he also cannot let Garrett default to offering comfort. 

"You were still a child." Quim rested his forehead on the crown of Garrett's auburn hair. "And the safety you lost, the dangers you knew, all you left behind, were all too soon. I know you say you only carried the best parts forward, but you hurt too."

"What am I, but the sum of my hurt and hope?"

"What are we, indeed."

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the story has (partially) surfaced! read part one of Judith's Journey here

while I wait for the next bit of story to surface, I really want to share a few paragraphs I'm proud of. my friends joke about the self-inserts in my writing, but this probably a new level, even for me.

I think a lot of us aspire to a life like Barry's...

After their dinner, Mother Pearl went to her room to rest. That usually meant two or three hours Judith could fill with emails or errands. Most of the time, she took Barry for long walks through city blocks and unnamed parks. Nothing in this part of town was manicured.

The trees grew where they grew, with nothing stopping you from reaching out and touching them. Weeds grew between concrete and clustered by curbs, and you could say they were beautiful when they bloomed. There was no impulse to make a thing more or less than what it was.

Ordinary blossoms and waning decay, all in a day’s passing.

Barry was a hefty meatball of a French bulldog. He snored and farted like a regular old man, and that’s why Judith loved him. Plus, he was very hard to impress. Three things Barry liked the most were a full food and water bowl each morning, napping whenever he felt like it, and an extra treat when the mood suited him.

Judith aspired to be more like Barry.

[vhkingsink]

while I wait for the next bit of story to surface, I really want to share a few paragraphs I'm proud of. my friends joke about the self-inserts in my writing, but this probably a new level, even for me.

I think a lot of us aspire to a life like Barry's...

After their dinner, Mother Pearl went to her room to rest. That usually meant two or three hours Judith could fill with emails or errands. Most of the time, she took Barry for long walks through city blocks and unnamed parks. Nothing in this part of town was manicured.

The trees grew where they grew, with nothing stopping you from reaching out and touching them. Weeds grew between concrete and clustered by curbs, and you could say they were beautiful when they bloomed. There was no impulse to make a thing more or less than what it was.

Ordinary blossoms and waning decay, all in a day’s passing.

Barry was a hefty meatball of a French bulldog. He snored and farted like a regular old man, and that’s why Judith loved him. Plus, he was very hard to impress. Three things Barry liked the most were a full food and water bowl each morning, napping whenever he felt like it, and an extra treat when the mood suited him.

Judith aspired to be more like Barry.

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every time I try to draw what's in my head for Thorns & Thumbs, I get something different. I have no idea how this ended up being--well...THIS...

I'm calling it The Discovery.

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i did not expect to come across an accessible option for my art--but i did! I downloaded a few options from what felt like a limited variety of free apps on my (refurbished) fire tablet, and then forgot about them for a while.

while playing a game of gartic phone with my family over discord one evening, I remembered I had drawing apps! and with my recent re-discovery that styluses (stylii?) existed, I was excited to tinker and see what I could come up with.

to my delight, drawing on my tablet is a lot more enjoyable than the first time i tried to draw on a touch screen. I'm curious to see how well I manage any character doodles at some point, or if I decide to stick with scenic world-building sorts of things....

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the other day, I was waiting in the lobby for my neurology appointment. I knew I had time on my hands, so I pulled out my tablet and tried my hand at one of the drawing apps I'd installed.

it worked the way I had expected to, and I had just gotten (or found, rather) the stylus I had ordered and then forgotten about. all that to say, I decided to draw something in the same setting as one of my novels.

i don't have a title for this yet, but maybe it'll come along when (if?) I write something to go with it...

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characters as...

i love thinking of different ways to describe my characters outside of their canon storylines, so I'm brainstorming some options. i gravitate toward music most often, but there are so many other genre-vibes to explore!

I'm thinking of "Characters As..."

kinds of desserts

bodywash/ shampoo scents

types of tea

coffee-shop order

ice cream flavors

fabric colors/ patterns

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me: taking a nap sounds like a good idea

>three hours later<

me: oh look, 3,000 words...cool!

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the three (3) times I've been brave enough to ask someone if I could write something inspired by how their post Spoke to me, they said yes...!!!

i really hope it lets them know I appreciate not only their work, but also the fact they share their thoughts and their passion into the void.

because sometimes, the void is reminding a disabled writer of all the beauty people are capable of, and that they're capable of beauty and joy too.

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i make playlists based on character sets and then i just end up sobbing instead of writing, i love it

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setting up my site took way more twists and turns than I expected. I'm glad to have something that better aligns with my creative goals and, more importantly, who I am as a person.

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i tried so hard to make an intro video and this is what I came up with. anyway, here's a list of things I like:

batman

iced coffee

lime-flavored water

planners, stickers, & lists

mood boards & playlists

middle grade graphic novels

queer space podcasts

blankets, hoodies, & stuffed animals

odd numbers

excited to build my own little character playground!~