The Painter Who Used Wind
Breath makes the best brush.
He painted storms that vanished with applause.
About the Creator
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More stories from GoldenSpeech and writers in Chapters and other communities.
Life will find a way
One cocoon twitches; my screaming must have disturbed it. It’s followed by a sound like the shaking of a cobra’s tail. A dry rattle sends a shiver down my spine. The rest of the cocoons respond the same way, as if communicating with one another; the cave fills with rattling. The glow becomes stronger as they vibrate and bathes the cave floor in an eerie blue light.
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Back at the café, Flashsatsumas had piled up his empty plates so was only too aware how the situation stood. Waiting for Miss Ugly to return with Mini-Flash Juniper safe and sound was proving to be more than he could take, and every interminable minute that passed seemed to increase the likelihood of something having gone wrong. Flashsatsumas didn’t need to look at Pat and Maureen to know they felt the same, so instead he was concentrating on what toys remained and the discarded packages strewn across the table. These Flashsatsumas turned endlessly over in his hands one by one, at his wits’ end for some opportunity he may have missed. His card, Juniper’s card, Maureen’s cats, Pat’s box…
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It began with a girl. Black-haired and sweet and gone too soon. It is the way of mortals to die, of course. Most pass within a few decades, unless they can be tempted away to fairyland and persuaded to stay there. Even then, mortals live only as long as they can go without visits to friends or family that allow time and the weight of years to catch up to them.
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