my little stories ::

Melt.

Her whole life she had been a small worm in the dirt without fear once and then she began to be afraid to move and turn and twist. She began to twist mentally and her brain became a network of tubes and strings connecting and whispering messages to one another, messages of concern and wondering of what had become of the world around her. Her eyes wide open she could see all around, with orb-like vision. And when she squeezed the stem of a beautiful blooming bud, it would wither in her hand her fingers stained red “you murderer”. But to tell the truth, the world that haunted her wasn’t her fault it wasn’t her creation but she became so attuned to it how could she not help but take it on as her own and become so attached to the seeds and roots of it all? She felt their pulse at the same rhythm as her very own scarlet red heart. But it was more than the plants, it was their blood. Unknowingly as she glanced into the mirror of her very own house it became clear what had become. Metamorphosis. Transformation of the small dirty pillish creature into a raging brilliant beast with wings intense. It was her next stage.

Whenever I think of fire I think of campfires and the outside. I vaguely have memories as a kid, going camping many times and I recall one specific instance. When my mom and I were camping together, maybe when I was around 8 or so. I was little. I very much remember that morning that I woke up. Everything was cold and when you saw the world around you, you noticed the sun was just creeping over the horizon. Everything felt so fresh and new as if we were just created. I loved our location, Joshua Tree, because of how unique the landscape was, and at that age, everything was still very new to me. I loved the big rocks you could climb on, it felt like I was on mars, and I loved the hint of plant life here and there. I especially thought the trees were cool of course. But I was also pleased to find that nature was the first thing I had heard waking up, and it was the birds that had most likely welcomed me to a new day. When I was awake, I remember investing my time into a book my mother had given me— on cacti and nature. Perhaps I had opened it to identify the world around me. I remember the pretty illustrations, they were so unique and captivating.

And so she sat on the keys, on the keys of the keyboard like a frozen doll. Sat still. She was related to the vibration of sound in that she could hear things and feel things and her head itched as if each strand of hair on her little head was an antennae. bzz bzz bzz