once upon a time there was a girl.  Her daddy brought her to a council of wizards.  There she met other children of the magickal court.  They were not allowed to talk about the precedings because they were all to be tested concerning there abilities involved with keeping dangerous knowledge from spreading like a deadly contagion.  What came as a surprise to her, however, is that by the end of the season's ceremonies, she had been crowned princess of the magickal court.
Then there was a terrible clash, and a great silence, like an impassable abyss, ensued.
Then it seemed she woke up.  Well, she did wake up, but her memories were all wrong.  Some how she did not live with her father, but with her mother.  somehow she was not the princess.  some how the world was even more bogged down in secrets and shame.  looking in the mirror, however, she was still the same.  But no one was going to recognise her for who she is, and she is going to have to figure out who she is in this strange and awkward new world.

 if you could see yourself through MY eyes, I wouldn't have to tell you anything with their being the shadow of who you met me as.  And I'm not all that better, or am I?  thats what I think I'll make the book about.  Lets call it Ariset's Mirror

 

 

 I was myself; i.e. only the usual...

You have really nice eyes.

 Christmas.  I showed up at my mom's house.

waiting for the miracle-- L. Cohen

 Grammas taught me me how to cook, or at least a friend's gramma did.  And maybe my step father too: scrambled eggs, I would say.  mom's mom taught me French Toast, I think.  But my 'adopted' gramma definitely taught me how to make tomato sauce, meatballs and lasagna.  I'm pretty sure Ethan showed me how to make bread, whereas his mom taught me how to make icing for cake.  The kitchen witch's cook book came in handy, and some random cook book did the trick too.

I'm with E., who has guns and goes shooting at clubs.  It is night time and he hands me a single shot pistol.  There are dear near by and I shoot a couple with the full intention of eating any one of them.  I have never hunted.  The dear go down easily.  The there is a young stag.  It lets me touch its antlers.  It feels like wood, and I scratch it with a fingernail.  Then I see that E. has tied it up.  I decide to shoot it because this is the one I want to eat.  The shot creates a lot of blood, but the animal does not die.  E. stands near it, which worries me that he may get in the way, but he wants me to shoot it anyway.  A Bambi reference is made.  More shots.  More blood.  The stag doesn't even fall.  I'm just hurting the poor thing.  I'm racked with guilt because my efforts did not kill it.  I need a bow and arrow- like that would somehow be more "humanely" efficient.  I find the bow, perhaps the arrow... I wake up recalling the blood shed and the guilt.

Anyone?

I was born in the year of the Tiger.  That's good because I have a strong affinity for cats.  The other night I dreamt about lion cubs, I actually became one of them briefly.  This guy held a gun to my face at point blank range and pulled the trigger.  The cartridge was empty, so I turned tail and ran.  I felt compelled to run all fours.  That wasn't going to work out to well for me, so I stuck to the standard two feet method.  But my pursuer was gaining ground.  That's when I attempted this tumbling manuever, going down head over heels, that wasn't working because I apparently wasn't doing it right.  So then I watched that lion cubs "tuck and roll" so I found myself as one of them.... I wasn't doing any better, but I got away.  It all started back at this crash pad I was squatting in.  Someone had broken in and began stealing my things, the day before I planned to move out.  I tried to stop him, but he had friends which led to me running and being persued until the gun was in my face.

Ashley Simpson.  because I got arrested for public intoxication just when she came on.  And it was my birthday celebration.

An English teacher, poet, novelist, illustrator, wizard, Emperor-Uber-Alles, and free spirited mad man/prohet.

  see Sweeney Todd the Demon Barber of Fleet Street, if you haven't already!

-A.

Note to self, A book to read.

I'm setting up a chess board to play a game with my friend E. He is always black, but he puts all the white pieces on the board and stands them up. I stop him from setting them in place to do so myself on my side of the board-- which he might have done anyway, but he should be setting up his side; this action causes a temporary static. All the pieces are standing and I am pulling them to my side of the board, then I divide them. He sets up his court and I mine. We make a few moves a piece. ( read more )