I’ve been waiting for more than a thousand years.
Morgen was the daughter of the King of Avallach and Nyneve, the Queen you would likely know of as the Lady of the Lake. She who holds my twin, Caledfwlch, from whom I am forever bound yet separated.
Caledfwlch was hurled into the lake by one of the knights, and recovered by Nyneve. I was carried away by Morgen and then I vanish from the tales. While all mourn for the lost weapon, my healing magic may have been greater. Arthur needed me in the end.
But no one remembers the scabbard.
Whine whine whine, wain. You don’t hear Excalibur bitchin’.
Thirteen steps. I watch myself appear at the bottom, climb up the thirteen stair steps, and disappear again at the top. Appear at the bottom, climb up the thirteen stair steps, and disappear again…
At the top of the stairs, there was a temporal lab. Doctor Jones was working on perfecting a time travel device, which was nearly finished. I was climbing the spiral stairs to bring his coffee.
Something must have gone horribly wrong. I appear to be trapped in a recurring time loop. I can only watch this same sequence happening over and over.
Appear at the bottom…
Inspired by this Picture it & write image and Antigonish by Hughes Mearnes:
“Yesterday, upon the stair,
I met a man who wasn’t there.”
Original image on abandoned-places.com.
We cry for lots of reasons: sadness, pain, fear . . . and happiness. When was the last time you shed tears of joy?
Well, it’s not much of a prompt, but.. Welcome back, DP.
Cold-hearted bastard yo
While a child, you are Steam. A bundle of chaos. Active, random, difficult to contain, escaping your containers, making them (like a teakettle) want to scream in frustration.
As an adult, you calm and become Water. You are resilient, you are adaptable, you rise to fill your space.
But in the end, we all become Ice. The joints begin to freeze, and crackle when they flex. Movement becomes slower, more difficult and sometimes painful.
I never really wanted to be Iceman. He was always the least interesting of the X-men, after all. But the ice is creeping in on me now. I hear the snap, crackle and pop each morning. And (sadly) not from my Rice Krispies bowl. “Loss of muscle mass and flexibility”, sayeth the internet, “Possibly even early stages of osteoarthritis”.
Damn you, Bobby Drake, who even invited you to the party? Get lost! Shoo!
Those old commercials sure made Snap Crackle and Pop sound like fun, didn’t they?
Old commercials lied. A lot.
Creak, Moan, Groan
For this week’s writing challenge, take on the theme of H2O. What does it mean to be the same thing, in different forms?