Somnium

There is a moment, between sleep and awakening, where dreams are real and life a dream. A moment where the wild fancies of dreamland feel so tangible, so vibrant, that you question the world you know as reality. Some days, the dreams are dark, the monsters under the bed creeping from dark shadows, and you run to the light of morning, relieved to find it all a dream. Other days, you bask in the dream-state, in a place of magic and whimsy, and upon waking, fight the bitter bite of tears for the lost possibilities. Until the dreams come again.



© The Lightning Tower, 2020

Cosmic Waltz

The two cosmic beings circled each other, stars seeping from their open wounds. Theirs was an eternal battle, a dance filling the universe, changing the course of fate. Neither had won, nor lost, but their moments of ascension or defeat altered the flow of time, destroyed galaxies, and birthed new worlds.

They hissed and writhed, swirling in a nebulous web before solidifying to land another blow. They knew not why they fought, only that it had always been. They lunged, moving in harmony, synchrony, antipathy.

Their battle cries echoed across the cosmos,

Until one cut short,

Trailing a hollow echo in its wake.

The victor released its opponent, stunned, lost. It had won, but what to do with the victory? It had never known anything beyond this, this immutable, sacrosanct conflict. They had been older than time, the creators of the universe. They had been duality, and they had been unity. They had been life and death, hope and despair, the both of them. What would happen without them, together?

—

She felt a shiver run up her spine, like an icy claw slid its way across her skin. She looked over at him, seeing her own shock in his wide eyes, in the tremor in his hand.

“Did you feel it?”

He nodded. “It happened.”

“The real question,” she whispered, grasping for his hand, “is what happens now?”



Inspired by a writing prompt from Writing Prompt Generator.

© The Lightning Tower, 2020

Return

I guess I needed longer than a one week break. But I’m back now, and I think I’ve made some decisions.

I don’t want to give up on this blog. I don’t want it to just fade away, to be something I did for a while and then abandoned when it got too hard, or I got bored with it.

That said, posting daily isn’t working for me anymore. It is too stressful, too much pressure on myself. The point of this blog was to have fun writing, and daily posts just make me dread sitting down to write.

So, I am going to try and keep this blog going, but only post once a week. For now. If that goes well, I might bump it up to three times a week – who knows, maybe I’ll eventually make it back to once a day.

Until next time,
The Narrator



© The Lightning Tower, 2020

200

Today marks the 200th consecutive day I’ve posted on this blog. Some pieces I’ve loved, some were dashed off in minutes, and some need a lot more work. But that’s okay, because I started this project as a 30 day challenge, to see if I could do it, if I could be inspired and find that spark in writing again.

Clearly, I blew past the 30 day mark, but it wasn’t without its struggles. I started this blog on January 7th, and wrote through the presidential impeachment trial later that month. In March, COVID-19 hit the United States hard, and I entered self-imposed lockdown. Then, a few months later on May 25th, George Floyd was murdered in Minneapolis, and the nation irrupted in protests, with violent police responses that carry on even today (in stark contrast to the protests against public health mandates only a few weeks before).

That said, I picked a hell of a time to try this experiment. The world has changed so much since I’ve started posting, and some of those changes are reflected in my work.

But along with those changes has come a lot of burnout. I am exhausted, the collective energy of the world dragging me down with it. This blog, which started as a fun experiment, something I was excited to do and felt good about completing, now brings me greater stress and anxiety.

For that reason, I am going to give myself a break – I am going to stop posting for the rest of July, and re-evaluate this project. I hope to come back after this week or so break reinvigorated, but that is a hope, not a promise.

I might be rearing to go, ready to keep up my rate of a post a day. I might tone it back, and pick a three day schedule. Or I might decide that this blog isn’t helpful to me anymore, and stop altogether. But I am going to come back on August 1st, with some kind of decision made.

If you’ve been following this blog at all, thank you so much for reading. If you just found it, great timing.

Until the 1st,
The Narrator



© The Lightning Tower, 2020

Delicate Interconnection

My eyes softly shut,
And I breath in the night air;
My shoulders release.

The cool breeze hugs me,
Holding me in that moment,
Simply living now.

I open my eyes,
And stare up at the expanse
Of stars above me.

I feel so small here,
Yet totally connected
To the universe.

I feel my soul reach
Out to the twinkling stars,
And the glowing moon.

I feel connected
To the ground beneath my feet,
Rooted in cool earth.

I feel the beauty
Of the world in this moment,
Of possible peace.



© The Lightning Tower, 2020

Paradise

She lay across her bed, a book dangling from her hand as she watched the rain dance outside her window. She could feel a slight breeze from the cracked open window, the familiar fresh smell of rain soothing her mind. She rolled up, reaching for her mug on the side table. She smiled at the pun on its side, and took a deep sip of rich, earthy tea, just the right temperature. She put the mug down and flopped back on the bed, closing her eyes and listening to the patter of rain. The rest of the world seemed so very far away in that moment.

She took a deep breath, peace washing over her for the first time in a very long time. This was her happy place, the stolen moments that made everything worth it. She shivered as a small gust blew through her window, the cool air delicious against her skin. She sighed, a slight smile on her face. Yes, she thought, this is paradise.



© The Lightning Tower, 2020

Tuesday

Lucy sighed, opening her email and seeing all the new messages staring at her, the bold letters proudly staring at her. She opened one, and was greeted with the first message in a thread that split in five different directions.

“Nope,” she said, under her breath. “Not starting with you.”

She closed the email and opened the next one, which was clearly a phishing attempt. She sighed, clicking the “Report Phishing” button, and wondered vaguely who received the notice on the other end.

She worked her way through her emails, coming across more threaded messages, a headache starting to build. She glanced up, around the open floor office, and let her eyes skim across the room. She didn’t want to let her gaze linger too long, in case someone thought she was staring at them. Better to keep her eyes glued to her own computer. The office looked the same as it always did, anyway. Not much changed here.

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Music

There is a freedom
In music that I wish I
Could feel for myself.

All the emotions
That I don’t let myself feel
Carry me away.

It reverberates
Through me, humanity set
To so many beats.

I close my eyes and
Move to the rhythm, thinking
Set aside, for now.



© The Lightning Tower, 2020

Soon

She watched her prey, as she had been for weeks. She knew every movement, every gesture. She knew habits, routines, the perfect place to strike. She could feel the anticipation grow; soon, very soon, and she would have her prize. But it took patience, planning, things she had in abundance. She could wait, until the right moment. That was part of the joy of the hunt, after all. Having the perfect moment, seeing the look of fear, feeling the rush of adrenaline. It would be all the sweeter, to do it right.

The house cat stood against the window, watching the rabbit hop closer through the grass outside. Soon, she thought. Soon.



© The Lightning Tower, 2020

A Feeling

I feel change coming
Like a storm front, whispering
A gentle warning.

What is meant to change
Is yet to be seen – the air
Just brings the message.



© The Lightning Tower, 2020