Day 6 of 360 Days of Symbols. Today’s symbol? Comet.

They led him through the bronze double doors, the smell of stardust in the air like the afterbirth of an explosion, his knees dragging on the glass floor, the stars below them infinite just outside, threatening to devour them with eternity. They had him by the arms, and he could barely move, they had stunned him so much his knees and legs stopped working days ago.

“You will stand,” the tall one said, “When you reach her chambers.”

“I can’t stand,” he muttered, his words barely words, mostly whispers.

Behind the door was a long hall of pillars that glowed with a golden light, reflecting a fire that burned for ages. That light made each pillar like a sun. Yet it was just an echo of another light, a reflection, a refraction, a movement through time and space. Just an empty simulacra of the real light.

That real light was at the far end. They moved him further and further down the hall. Ceiling and walls and floor all glass, all showing the space that sang around them, star upon star, galaxy upon distant galaxy. Clusters of light and darkness. He found strength to stand to walk. The light at the end commanded him and he obeyed. No will to deny the light. You cannot deny the light.

Finally, finally. The end. The throne was up, up, up. She sat at the top of it, and the flame of her hair spun down and around the throne. It was a snake of fire, that hair, a snake of sun, a snake of light. It went on for ages, wrapping around and around. And there she sat, golden skin, glowing down at him. Her clothes long since burned away by the light of her hair.

“Lady Comet,” they said, lifting him up, “We removed him from the prison just as you said.”

“Good, good,” her voice was ancient, star born.


Day 5 of 360 Days of Symbols. Today’s symbol? Eclipse.

Your shadow falls across her, eclipsing the face, the eyes, the hair. Between the sun and her your body stands, creating shadow were light once lived. Now is only the glowing outline of form, now is the void of self inside the shadow. What lies beneath the shadow is a universe, hidden just out of sight. A landscape of canals and cities, a place of lost lunar children crawling on the surface, seeking that light that left them there in darkness and in shadow.

Between the earth and the sun is shadow. between the moon and sun is shadow. Everything exists in these shadow lands. During the time of the eclipse the world changes, and a between world appears. A shadow landscape.

It is this space between us. Between the light, the object, the nothingness that rises. Shadows obscure, occlude. Shadows reveal, create truth in hiding.

A shadow hand extends, outlined only by light, pulling in reflected rays of the sun. The fear of the dark is the fear of the self. The eclipse lasts only moments, and then the figure becomes real again, she becomes real again. The hidden is now light and the surreal becomes mundane. The shadowlands became nothingness once again and only the void remains.

But for a moment. Yes, for a moment. There was a secret revealed.  The shadow, the whisper, the moment between moments. The eclipse of lives.

Crescent: #360DaysofSymbols

Day 4 of 360 Days of Symbols. Today’s symbol? The crescent.

The smile moved from person to person, spreading rapidly. Like a sneeze to a cold, each time someone saw that milk of moon on a face they spread their lips wide as well, teeth all shiningsharp. One, two, three, you can watch it dance on face to face, just sit above and there it moves, the crowd slowly smiling all at once, moving through like a wave, like a ripple.

They were human echoes.

You can run for a bit. Try and resist. Keep your mouth down in a frown, but it doesn’t last. You feel a grin coming on, happy memories bubbling up, but you have to bite your lips for pain, force it back down. The smiling ones are changed. They can’t stop smiling and their eyes go blue all over and their hair turns white.

Eventually they start laughing but not a normal laugh. Your doctor called it a cheshire laugh, back when he was warning you, telling you of vaccines to prevent. They didn’t work. He didn’t work.

Now he sits on stone steps laughing white hair blue eyed laughing and that smile, that smile doesn’t stop. Another swings from hanging lamps smiling and then another runs around on all fours, his head moving in ways human heads don’t move.

And you remember your brother climbing up the playground bars and standing on the top and the sun rising behind him, shadowing his form in golden rays.

And you can’t help it. You smile. A perfect crescent moon on your face.

Moon: #360DaysofSymbols

Day 3 of 360 Days of Symbols. Today’s symbol? The moon.

The moon was her lamp, hung down in root cage from her hand, lighting through the underearth, the cavelands, those haunted cavern places. She was a star once, long ago. But the light inside was stolen, taken far below. They replaced her heartlight with a wasp’s nest, and she still heard them buzz with each inhale, exhale. This noise made time go slow. Creep by and slink by, and devour the night around her.

Stalagmites sparkle with her descent. The caverns twist into nebulashape, circle spiral going inward and downward. Creek sounds can be heard far below, and maybe the echo of a rush of riverwater. She places a hand on the wall, feels it moving against her skin, and thinks these walls are alive. This cavern is alive.

She raises the moon, let the light shout out the shadows, watched them runaway. She heard whispers of an underground forest, and maybe in the center of that was an underground lake. And in that lake was an island, and in that island was a castle. And in that castle was a king who had her heart light.

She moved the moon back and forth, sweeping light across this night world beneath the crust. It flickered and then changed shape, waxing and waning in the root cage she used to catch it. No, no, don’t go out yet, she hadn’t found it yet. And what was a star without sparkle, without shine? Just a black hole, sucking up worlds, leaving gravity in its wake.

Sun: #360DaysofSymbols

Here is day 4 of the 360 Days of Symbols. This symbol is Sun.

For this one I decided to make a mock excerpt from a fictional epic poem from some long ago elsewhere planet/fantasy world. Consider this something that might be at the start of a secondary world fantasy novel, like the excerpts in the EarthSea books

“sky dragon hear me
I sing in your ruins
and run over the bones of your brotherearth

sky dragon hear me
I am not the child of a ruler
I am not a godthing
I am the humble one
and my heart is the size of a thimble

sky dragon hear me
bring me up through the veil of clouds
burn me with your daystar embrace
give me the gift of your fire

make me dragon blood and dragon skin
and let my breath be the thunder of fear
and the nightmare songs of my enemies”
From the third tablet of Enlial
Author unkown
Rough translation

Star: #360DaysofSymbols

Here’s day 3 of the 360 Days of Symbols. This symbol is Star.

Nymue havests constellations from the hearts of dying giants. She sneaks into the floating hospital, crawling across chains and homesick in her heart. Dressed like whiteblood cells and pills, she sneaks in through the digestion, and cuts through stomach walls, climbing up the spine, up to the ribs, and prying open that heartcage and pulling out stars by the handful.

Later she forces the stars to be nova suns, using the explosive energy to propel her sailing home in the darkness between worlds. There is a sadness, a regret to what she must do. She tells herself the giants were dying anyway, they were mostly bones, turning into stone and dirt, hair becoming trees and heads the hills around her. She knows this, yet still she is sad, she doesn’t want to do what she does.

Her daughter waits for her. Years made of light, far away and hidden behind comets and singing planets. There, there, she waits, not knowing her mom was stranded on haunted planets, not knowing her mom fought with ghosts for the bones of her ship.

But now it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. These hearts were good stars,the energy trapped inside full of explosive memories.

Breath: #360DaysofSymbols

Here’s is day 2 of the 360 Days of Symbols. This symbol is breath.

My breath is a wild animal. It sneaks into my lips at night, crawls down my throatcaverns, goes and nestles in the grotto of my lungs. There it rests for exhaling, and expulsions, and it does so violently into the air, howling my words for me, tearing at the lining of skin. Outside it tries to fight its way back, but I hold it back with prisonlips.

Eventually it dies from the light of the sun, becomes thin wisps of nothing in the air. But I can feel something else now. It had laid eggs in those lung caverns. And soon, soon. The brood will hatch. I will be infected with beasts.