#burningsky

Fiery Sky Over Stipanja Bay

          "  impressive  lifestyle .  see ,  if  i  had  to  choose  between  leaving  this  place  with  my  head  between  my  shoulders  or  have  it  rolling  out  that  door  i'd  be  making  wise  and  calculated  moves  here ,  xander  cage .  "    ever  the  strategist ,  the  gecko  with  the  brains  -  being  caught  off  guard  was  something  that  bruised  his  ego ,  he  wasn't  too  keen  on  that  feeling .

I saw Daniel today at the Writers’ Conference. How is he, you wonder? He has a lovely wife, although I never got to see her — I imagine love is relatively similar to Alice in Wonderland. That is: falling down the rabbit hole?

Sherry says he’s ‘Danger D’ on account of “unmentionable habits”, and would like me to keep my distance.

I’d be very happy to share my stash with him, mano a mano, as it were. 

Does he read my novels? It'd mean a lot to me... He’s award-winning, and I think he smiled when he saw me today — I’d proffered him an Old Fashioned garnished with an orange peel.

I've always wanted to be him.

That said: he has these eyes that turn lavender in the light. How fond of flowers is he, do you reckon?

It's quiet tonight, and I’d like to invite him for a drink. I leave you with this:

The man appeared through the cottonwood grove and stood over the rider until he blotted out the angry red sun and it seemed as though blinking. At some last reckoning the rider lied wondering if he had dreamt him and as he turned cold within the thatches of nutsedge and thistles he peered into the man's eyes until the ship of heaven sailed on all anight into eternity, and under the setting of the sun he dreamt no more.

Armand peers over the edge of the book, then up at Daniel with a soft smile. He barely hears the words he's saying, paying more attention to the angles of his face, the way his mouth moves, the pulse underneath the skin, the way his voice glides over words pausing, now and then, on the sharp edges.

“It’s a surprise.”

Q is a foreboding figure in any setting. Holding already a neatly draped stack of dried and pressed clothing over arm. A confident image of sharp-angled and tailored cuts framed by the wilderness of ebony curls that fell around their shoulder, dressed head to toe in white. A stark contrast perhaps, to the dishevelled younger man that stood before them. It was nothing new to Q. Daniel’s prophetic terrors were frequent, although Q was not with the man daily to know how frequent. It was surely only a matter of time before the poor boy lost his mind and the witch would have brought two damaged souls into their care. Still, Q knew how not to draw attention to it.

“You look like shit.” The witch stated bluntly, placing the fresh clothing they had cleaned over the end of a chair near where Daniel stood. A streak of morning light hit their cheek illuminating the weariness on their own dulled sleepless complexion. “And you left your door unlocked.”

Q’s gaze turned with their body, fluidly, if not for their leg, indicating with their wrist for the man to follow. “Come, your gift is in the hall. I’ll need your help to get it in.”