bITS 'N CHUNKS
What's up everyone,
This story right here is from a flash challenge I did with a friend on Facebook a few years back. I wrote one piece of flash fiction every day FOR A MONTH. It was a good challenge because it got the ol' literary muscles working but I kid you not when I say maybe 4 of those were any good and of that pool one is debatable. I read this over again and it was a total throw away story but looking at it again it's a pretty aight piece of writing. I have no desire to really submit it anywhere professionally so here it is! I don't remember why the title is Duran Duran inspired.
“Sing, Blue Silver”
The setting sun illuminated the princess's dress, made it sheer, and the gusts of wind that blew under it made it billow, made it seductive. Her legs were brown roots planted into the ground, bare feet digging into the grass and squishing around.
He had come to save her.
As they walked, little by little he shed his intimidating, dark armor that he had donned to get through the forest. They were down to a fire and his old, partly rusted sword. His hands were green from where the metal was rubbing off, thrusting into so many monsters with acidic blood. He had no song to sing to her, but she said that was alright; she was so happy to be free, she could sing a choral all on her own. She tried it, and he would humor her by striking rocks against his sword.
He made sandals from leaves and vines for her, and vine-like she would periodically wrap her arms around his neck and cry, laugh, or murmur in her sleep. And in turn, vine-like, he wrapped his arms under her and lifted her up across quicksand and things that would bite and hurt her legs.
And when he set her down, she would dance and sing. The glowing bugs of the evening made a pure white cape around the two of them and trailed in their wake.
The two moons and distant binary stars rolled across the sky like a carousel and she had told so many stories of her time in captivity that they had started to wrap into one another. When she laced her fingers or her lip trembled, he automatically covered her like the animal skins they wrapped up in against the cold. When she began to notice that he had trouble sleeping, gnashing his teeth often and whimpering, she began to sing then, too.
To think, he had come to save her.
Almost there now, and she had long since realized they were going the opposite way and into the deeper parts of the forests, where magic was strange and the imps perverse. With his hand in hers and another on her heart, she would go with him.
He had come to save her, and missed her by three days. And now the wizard would lead her into his lair, bathe her, stroke her hair, and weaponize her love to destroy this world.
Ia! If you've come this far, you're either looking for weird or you know you've found it...