“There they are.” whispered Mable. “The best mushrooms in the world.”
Silky crumpled her nose up in disgust. “You mean it is actually growing out of dirt.”
“I don’t like eating dirty things.” Silky complained.
Mable laughed and quickly covered her mouth. “We must be quiet or he will catch us
and besides they are not for us.” She whispered to her friend.
Silky nodded and watched as Mable picked the large mushrooms with slender fingers.
Once picked , Mable motioned for them to leave quickly by putting a finger over pink lips.
When they were on the cobblestone path back to the villa Silky looked at her cousin. “Why are these the best?
“That is where my father buries the little ones he kills in secret.” Mable paused a moment and then continued. “I think it is
only fair to make him eat from the remains don’t you.”
Devoted, she followed behind, to guard, to protect and to love. Her young wards never saw it coming as a flash of hoof and teeth emerged from forests edge. She dug her canines into the cannon and the creature screamed in pain and tried to shake off the dogs grip. The two girls Huddled behind a tree on the wayside and covered their ears to drown out the cries.
Then silence ensued and the cynanthrope nudged the older girl to get them moving again.
They quickly passed the horned menace that lay still upon the tracks, its white fur covered in crimson.
Devoted, she shadowed them as their shepherd.
It sat silent in the display case as thousands marched in front of the massive rock structure with Little faces that pressed their noses to the glass. Many tried to make out the colors and guess what the long jagged teeth were. Then it came to Exxon, its final resting place among st the other relics that lay here. As night fell the facets started to glow and the core blinked for a moment and then it was all gone. Lamentation for the town was great as was the mystery for the cause.
“Did it work?” Asked the little mole.
“Yes indeed it did.” Answered the scientist mole. “That will teach them to steal our shinies.”
It was a meticulous work, this maze he constructed especially for them. Many secrets, many souls captured here, forever roaming with no exit in mind. Their voices taken from them all the while wailing in silence, his beautiful, pulchritudinous flowers all buried neatly in a row. Carefully tended in clandestine style he prepared another place for her. The snow white daisies sat in anticipation of their newly awaited beloved. He perched upon the flower engraved stool whilst the bride blinded by his love made her way through the coiled aisle.
She stood still upon the shoreline as her lot was cast thoughtfully in the sand. The Icosahedron whirled and hummed before it completely stopped. Small nimble fingers scooped up the cube and she observed the numbers and letters that lighted up on its many sides. The landscaped changed and twisted about her as the focus of shapes came and went, she gripped the Icosahedron even tighter afraid to lose it. The world stilled and she found herself on the beach in a different time. She stared at the vessel with her incandescent green eyes and sighed. Cold sand slipped in around her toes as she ventured toward the boat. Deciding to try something different she carefully climbed into the musty smelling pile of rot and held her lot out. About to cast the die she felt different and caught movement in the shadow of her mind’s eye.
She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of the signpost. “There”, she mused as she posted it to facebook for her friends to see.
Now where is a good place to eat she thought, as she twirled about she came face to face with a man of uncertain age standing behind her. She Gasped and fell back to the sign and clung there and stared at the oddity before her. He was slim and tall wearing a smart black suit with a red tie and adorned on his head was a Stetson fedora. She looked at him dumbfounded as if he had walked off a detective show and before she could speak ‘ he said with a crooked smile. “On route sixty-six is a really nice motel you should check out.” Stunned she reached for her phone to take a picture of him and when she looked up he had vanished. Flabbergasted she stuffed the phone in her pocket and walked to her car and paused. “I wonder if they have good food.”
Stared out the window from morn to mourn.
Dishes set to await five more, never empty, never full.
Guests come or go I’ll never know.
Cling to life oh heart broken, from morn to Mourn.
“It’s so amazing here!” She exclaimed. “I can’t believe I am here.”
She wrapped her arms around him and he pulled her closer.
“It is amazing.” he whispered in a husky voice. “I keep all my beautiful things here.”
She pulled back a little and smiled. “I can’t wait to see your place.”
He brushed dark hair from her cheek and looked intently into hazel eyes.
“You are in my very secret place.” He cooed. “Where you will stay with all my precious things.”
Eyes glistened as they watched the beautiful dance unfold before them. The mastery and precision of thread unequaled by any seamstress.
Eyes glazed over and felt neither cold or had breath, but the dance went on above his head.
Her eyes glowed incandescent green as she held the Icosahedron tightly to her chest. With sadness she stepped onto the ravaged shore, eaten by the storm and stopped briefly before the old fisherman. He was tattered upon the shore like an old rag-doll that was given to the dog pack. She looked away and nimbly danced between the debris and found the place to cast her new lot. She brushed her long white hair behind her ear and rubbed the Icosahedron to warm the wood. She took a deep breath and cast another lot.