But leave us some magic in the world. Leave us some mystery to enjoy.
Stuart HillEvery time the sky cries, it is because an angel has died... Lucifer started a war in Heaven, and it persists even now. So if God cannot keep his angels under control, what makes you believe that he can keep humanity under control?
Lionel SuggsTag: god atheism fantasy human-nature
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I'm not myself," she offered, guiltily. She softened around Tik Tok, and when she did she was, for those rare moments, girlish.
He smiled. "You can never say that. You're just a piece of yourself right now that you don't like.
Tag: fantasy fiction young-adult
The finished clock is resplendent. At first glance it is simply a clock, a rather large black clock with a white face and a silver pendulum. Well crafted, obviously, with intricately carved woodwork edges and a perfectly painted face, but just a clock.
But that is before it is wound. Before it begins to tick, the pendulum swinging steadily and evenly. Then, then it becomes something else.
The changes are slow. First, the color changes in the face, shifts from white to grey, and then there are clouds that float across it, disappearing when they reach the opposite side.
Meanwhile, bits of the body of the clock expand and contract, like pieces of a puzzle. As though the clock is falling apart, slowly and gracefully.
All of this takes hours.
The face of the clock becomes a darker grey, and then black, with twinkling stars where numbers had been previously. The body of the clock, which has been methodically turning itself inside out and expanding, is now entirely subtle shades of white and grey. And it is not just pieces, it is figures and objects, perfectly carved flowers and planets and tiny books with actual paper pages that turn. There is a silver dragon that curls around part of the now visible clockwork, a tiny princess in a carved tower who paces in distress, awaiting an absent prince. Teapots that pour into teacups and minuscule curls of steam that rise from them as the seconds tick. Wrapped presents open. Small cats chase small dogs. An entire game of chess is played.
At the center, where a cuckoo bird would live in a more traditional timepiece, is the juggler. Dress in harlequin style with a grey mask, he juggles shiny silver balls that correspond to each hour. As the clock chimes, another ball joins the rest until at midnight he juggles twelve balls in a complex pattern.
After midnight, the clock begins once more to fold in upon itself. The face lightens and the cloud returns. The number of juggled balls decreases until the juggler himself vanishes.
By noon it is a clock again, and no longer a dream.
Tag: art time change fantasy dream clock night-circus
So I find words I never thought to speak
In streets I never thought I should revisit
When I left my body on a distant shore.
Tag: words poetry fantasy travel explore mystery shore timelessness streets visit little-gidding
The Lord of Rags and Tatters.
Megan Whalen TurnerTag: fantasy young-adult dialogue dialog
From time to time
I once wondered how one wanders from time to time
And think up the paradox line
Speak of Epoch's crime
Oh I lied, it hasn't happened yet
But bet you better believe it's such a habit that
I just said that in a past mindset
Tag: imagination truth paradox thinking poetry lies wander time fantasy wonder curiosity lyrics song crime riddles pondering epoch
But in the end, black can never be white, one plus one must always equal two, and Mara Lynn was a normal little girl.
Jake Vander-ArkTag: beauty fantasy paranormal-romance fiction logic young-love
Sometimes a wild horse needs to feel that his rider is just a little bit wilder.
Francesca Lia BlockTag: fantasy horse womanhood strength-through-adversity ruby equine
Il semble, encore ajourd'hui, qu'elle n'aurait pu s'épanouir ailleurs que dans ce paysage étrange et fabuleux, hanté par les fantômes, mais protégé par les fées
Dominique DemersTag: inspirational love fantasy french
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