Weathering the Storms

A loud crack of thunder shook the room, causing the windows to rattle so much Evie thought they would break. It was silly of her; she knew that the windows were well-made and so durable it would probably take a direct hit from one of the orbital lasers to even scratch it. There were blackout curtains on all the windows, and she pushed one aside in time to see a spear of lightning illumintate the city. Storms like this were getting more and more frequent as the planet continued to decay.

Another boom of thunder rumbled through her small room. Sighing, she let the curtain drop and went to her desk, rather than back to bed. There was no way she was getting any sleep now. Might as well get some work done.

She waved her hand over the desk, activating the terminal. The gentle glow cast soft shadows on her face as she brought up her latest project. The thunderstorm continued to rage outside, but it only cemented her need to work. She was near a breakthrough, she just knew it. It was absolutely vital that she find it and progress to the next stage of her work.

The planet outside was not Earth, the origin of humanity. It wasn't even in the same solar system, in fact. Humankind had left Earth hundreds of years ago in vast colonial ships, leaving behind a scant few thousand on their dying world.

Many of those ships reached their destinations and found the potential new worlds to be dead, useless, or completely hostile. Terraforming had been in its infant stages at that point, and few worlds had survived the process. Sigma Tau had been one of the few that match Earth closely enough to allow for habitation, though the native population had suffered greatly.

Evie knew her history, knew that humans were always meddling where they needn't, were always destroying, always pushing their way in to places they didn't belong. But those original settlers were hundreds of years in the past. Evie had been born on Sigma Tau. She didn't approve of her forebears actions, but that would not stop her from trying to save the planet of her birth.

The heart of her city was a massive terraforming station. Every ship had been equipped with what had been groundbreaking technology. It had been added to and upgraded over the years but the meddling had caused massive climate shifts that eventually led to superstorms, much like the one over the city now.

Evie was doing her best to correct the meddling. Her proposition to shut down the facility entirely and let nature take its natural course had been shut down nearly unanimously. She'd been given two options, after that: fix it, or quit and let someone else try.

There was no one else with her level of training. So, she'd had no real choice at all.

Beauty

She sat cross-legged on the floor, polishing a bit of metal with a soft cloth and sweet-smelling oil. A fire crackled in the hearth near her, the flames casting shadows that twisted around her. Carefully she worked the oil onto every tiny bit of the metal, before, satisfied, she set it down and picked up another.

In a plush chair behind her, a man sat, his shadowed eyes watching her work. "Why don't you ever try to get the dents out?" he asked after a long stretch of silence.

She turned, a lock of hair falling into her eyes as she smiled up at him. "Because it shows where you've been."

"But don't you think it looks ugly, dented like that?"

"Not at all," she replied, returning to her work. "It adds character. The dents, the scratches... they show that you've been somewhere, and that you made it back."

He shifted in the chair, frowning down at her. He'd never seen it that way before. Piece by piece, she oiled and polished. Every time she finished, she would gently, almost reverently, place it on the floor before plucking the next from the steadily shrinking pile.

"Don't you ever get tired of polishing it?"

She paused, her hand hovering above the cool metal surface, and then shook her head as she went back to work. "No. I like to take care of it. This armor has seen a lot. It deserves to be cared for."

She was polishing the breastplate now, and he could see her fingers brush a large scratch. If it were worn, it would have been right over the heart. He grimaced and rubbed his chest, a remembered pain coming back to him. As if she could see his movements, she leaned back briefly, resting her head on his knee.

"The armor may look banged up and ugly, but its purpose is beautiful, and that's what makes it beautiful to me." Her thumb traced the scratch before she once again took up the cloth and oil. She finished the breastplate and set it to the side before picking up the helm, the final piece. Of all the armor, this was by far the most damaged, but she tended to it just as lovingly as she had the others.

As she worked, he reached over to inspect a vase she'd repaired. At the time, he hadn't known why she'd kept it when it broke. Now, though, he could see that each crack had been mended with gold; the vase was whole, though no longer what it had once been. The firelight reflected and made it seem to shine, and he smiled. "I think I see now." He gently set the vase back down. "You care, because it has a rich history, and it's all the more beautiful because it was damaged, but it's still strong. Is that it?"

She rose and set the helm on the floor before she bracing herself on the arms of his chair. Her hair framed her face as she looked into his eyes. He could see her smile, the compassion and love that dwelled in her heart. "Yes," she said simply, and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

The Darkness Inside

Every night when she fell asleep, the dark shadows normally locked behind her eyes shifted and moved. They would flow like ink, pooling in her pillow until they took shape, becoming the demons I knew them to be. She was adept at concealing them; only someone who knew to look could tell they were mocking her from the back of her mind.

I was certain she had no idea that they did this. They sat, staring at me, their black eyes intent. I knew they were waiting, expecting me to sleep.

My own demons would join them when I did.

I waved the devils aside and took her in my arms, holding her close. She made a soft, contented sound and relaxed against me, safe and warm. Did they torment her when she was alone? It made sense. I glared at them, but they only grinned back.

As I drifted into sleep, I imagined I could feel my own darkness slipping out of me. The mocking laughter faded away as like called to like. I held her closer, a silent promise to protect her as long as I was there.

This happened more and more frequently, as I stayed with her more often. She slept better for it, and I liked holding her in my arms. That our demons got along with each other was an odd sort of bonus. They tormented her less, and sometimes it seemed as if her eyes were less shadowed.

She was up later than usual one night, a haunted look in her eyes, the darkness back in full force. When I asked her what was wrong, she shook her head, unwilling to discuss it just then. I wasn't happy, but I didn't press the issue; she would tell me when she was ready.

A few days later, after a particularly restless night, she sat across from me, absently stirring her drink, watching the steam rise. I'll never forget the things she said that morning. She told me about her past, the things that haunted her, that kept her awake and never let her rest. Her eyes were downcast, and she gave me a sad sort of smile, as if she expected me to be scared off, or disappointed, or whatever else the men before me had put her through.

She told me about the one who assaulted her, and stalked her. She told me about the one who cheated on her, used her and left her when he was through. She spoke of her mother's abuse, and how unwanted she had been. How she sometimes still felt that no one wanted her, that she was a failure. How she'd been abandoned when she needed support the most.

Everyone has their demons, and I told her as much. I didn't tell her that I'd known, maybe not what they were, but certainly that they existed.

Then I reached across the table and took her hands in mine, squeezing them gently. "Your demons don't scare me," I told her. She smiled, and I could see a spark of light in her eyes, driving the demons away.

Would she be frightened by mine? Somehow, I didn't think so.

The Memory of You

I can feel your gentle caress
And your warm breath on my shoulder.
I can still hear your soft whispers
And the sound of your laughter.
I can see your loving smile
And that glimmer of joy in your eyes.
I still reach beside me to hold you
Only to find that you're not there.
Only to find that you're there... but gone.
I still feel your lips on mine
And the comfort of your encircling arms.
I still hear the words you speak
And the quiet as we lie together.
I still see your arm around my waist
And the way the light strikes your hair.
I still move to make room for you
Only to find that you're not there.
Only to find that you're there... but gone.
I still hear the sadness in your voice
As we part yet another time,
And I still feel the shivers
That your memory causes
Whenever I think of you.
I still wait for you
Even when I know you'll not be home yet,
And I still look for you
Only to find that you're not there.
Only to find that you're there... but gone.

Desperation

How do I know what is real?
The colors and shapes and sounds
Are all jumbled together,
A noisy call for mind and heart and soul.
But how does one answer when the mind is closed,
When the heart is cold, when the soul is lost?
How does the bitter husk
Of a once lively girl, full of joy,
Say that she is no more?

She wonders if she can ever love again
For her heart is not yet free
And she struggles against the bonds of pain.
The pain of loves long past
And the fruitless search for true happiness.
People always told her that love would prevail,
That she would find a way to happiness,
But the drained spirit is too saddened,
Far too deep in bitter misery
To do more than sit and wait.

And wait she does... forever.

Shadow and Flame

Shadow creeps across the sky
Rain hangs in the still air
Warm breath escapes soft lips
A fog of mystery that disappears

A pale beauty lies with her lover
Together embraced against the frozen night
They whisper to each other
Smooth caresses of silken sound

They move together, sliding
A battle of desire
A war against the oncoming frost
The desperate attempt to keep each other warm

Flames of passion engulf the pair
At last they become one
As the shadows leave the sky
Keeping them in their state of eternal joy

If...

To what stars will time lie to,
With immortal man
The truth to be?

While beggars watch
From perilous seats,
Soon to be kings and queens.

And the sea stands still,
Its breath held tight
As man begins to fight.

The skies turn dark,
The sun is gone
Into the mirror's life.

So what does time lie to
If man immortal truly be?
For none shall falsify,
Nor reality hide,
When immortal is man
And human are we.

The Model Failure

 It was his first time going to the park on the little island. Sure, he'd heard about it from his friends, but he'd only just moved to the city. When they took him out one Saturday morning, he went in not expecting much. After all, a place called Mud Island couldn't possibly be that interesting, right?

He was surprised, then, when his friends took him across the walking bridge. The park was larger than he'd thought it would be, and he could see people milling about; tourists and locals alike were flocking to the island. In the distance, the excited shrieks of children could be heard over the low, steady rumble of the tram beneath his feet.

It was a beautiful day, warm and a bit muggy but not unbearable. There was a breeze coming in off the Mississippi River, cool and not as … fishy … as he'd thought it might be. His friends were around him, chattering and joking, getting into shoving matches over nothing. He shook his head and simply ignored their displays, focusing instead on everything going on around him.

It took quite a few flights of stairs and escalators for their little group to reach the ground, when he was assaulted by the sight of dozens of children – and adults – splashing in what looked like a tiny river. In fact, as he looked closer, he could see the winds and curves as water snaked around a bend.

“Hey, Jack, what do you think of Mud Island, huh?” Andy asked, nudging him with an elbow. “They recreated the entire river, start to finish. C'mon!” And suddenly Jack was being dragged towards the nearer end of the park, where walls of cascading water burbled around a common area.

“They match the water level to the actual river,” was Peter's aside, gesturing to the main attraction.

Jack simply stood gape-jawed with wonder. He'd never seen something so meticulously constructed. He stepped up to the edge of the miniature river, his eyes taking in the lakes and varying depths of the river. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted, of all things, a dam, constructed of what he could only guess was stainless steel. Water flowed over the dam's edges in a steady stream, though the bulk of it was trapped into a large lake.

“That's Lake Itasca, up in Minnesota.” Andy gestured to the pool. “It's where they say the main source of the river comes from.”

“Hey, guys, look at me!” Peter raised a foot, playfully smashing it into the tiny dam. “I'm a giant! Grr!”

They all laughingly took turns pretending to be monstrous humans wreaking havoc on the river. When it came to Jack's turn, he stomped the metal structure, jumping back in surprise when it simply broke. “Shit!” he exclaimed, leaning over to try and put it back in place.

“Leave it, man. It was probably just weak metal. They'll come and fix it.”

“Yeah, let's get away from here before anyone notices. It's cool, Jack, no one will know.”

He felt bad, of course, but they were right. Likely it had just been in need of replacement from the beginning, and the added strain of grown men playing around on it had weakened it further. That he had been the one to deal the final blow was just a coincidence.

They pressed on, following the river all the way to the end, where a large pond mimicked the Gulf of Mexico. They rented paddle boats, daring each other to races around the pond, playing chicken with each other. Jack ended up in one of the swan boats, and even though he was having fun, he still felt guilty about his earlier accident.

Turns out, he was right to.

It was the next morning when he heard the news. He had to look up the story on the internet to make sure that he'd heard it right on the television.

Dam at Lake Itasca Bursts, Cause Unknown

He received quite a few messages from his friends, exclaiming about the coincidence. Wasn't it funny that the dam that burst had been the same one he'd accidentally destroyed at the park? At least no one had been reported as injured – or worse – but it was still a terrible accident. It would take a long time to rebuild the dam, and a lot of money. Until then, the river would probably flood, especially close to the source.

Jack thought he'd managed to avoid his family's curse. He'd never had any problems before, so why now? Were they manifesting late? He hadn't wanted any of this to happen.

“That's a very odd way for it to manifest,” said his father, startling him out of his thoughts. “Usually it's drawing or painting or something.”

“It's still not a pleasant thing to discover, either way,” Jack replied glumly. “I can't just reach in and fix it.”

“No, you can't. And now you know to be more careful. No mucking about with models like that, not anymore.”

“That should be easy enough to avoid, right?”

If only he had known how wrong he was...