Dance of the Unforgotten (an illustrated work of literary fiction for adults)
From the rooftop of the clocktower,
Lorna could see the dead, floating above the village.
The promise of nightfall calmed her mind,
as the slate shingles pressed cool against her bare feet.
Lorna could see the dead, floating above the village.
The promise of nightfall calmed her mind,
as the slate shingles pressed cool against her bare feet.
The small world below her was a regret:
a place no longer in love with itself.
An hour before, she had been in her room—
making last preparations for the journey;
the ropes, the fuel, the balloon.
a place no longer in love with itself.
An hour before, she had been in her room—
making last preparations for the journey;
the ropes, the fuel, the balloon.
She stepped to the edge.
The bell tolled. The rain came. The starlings took flight—
circling once about her, then vanishing into the night.
The bell tolled. The rain came. The starlings took flight—
circling once about her, then vanishing into the night.
Her father, stumbling under a streetlamp,
was the only soul to see Lorna step off the peak.
was the only soul to see Lorna step off the peak.
She fell slowly,
gently swaying above him,
while he argued with the shadows.
As she turned the dial, the burner flashed to life,
warming the air in the balloon tethered to her harness.
gently swaying above him,
while he argued with the shadows.
As she turned the dial, the burner flashed to life,
warming the air in the balloon tethered to her harness.
As she rose, she called back,
“I’m off to find Mama—
and I pray that I’ll never return.”
“I’m off to find Mama—
and I pray that I’ll never return.”
(Full version available upon request) Currently on submission