The Eye in My Ceiling

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Digital drawing. Central figure, a woman, her top half, seen from below at an angle. She’s facing away standing in a room where the ceiling and parts of two walls intersect at her left, around waist level. The woman wears pants and a t-shirt and her hair in a ponytail. She holds a carving knife in her right hand, held down and behind herself. Her left hand reaches up towards a huge eye in the ceiling. Most of the iris and a small portion of the whites are visible.

I thought it was a reflection at first.  Not the moon.  Some streetlight or something, from outside, getting past my curtains.  I was too lazy, too sleepy to get up and deal with it.  But I do remember thinking it was strange. 

Isn’t the light too bright to be a reflection?  I thought, peeking up at the ceiling.

I do remember resisting the urge to rub my eyes.  I wanted to take a closer look.

Did I just see something floating in the light? 

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The Bard of Trilenkary

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The Rice Man Playing FiddleIn the land of his own making, the one that abided in his heart and his head, he was a bard.  In truth, he was a rice man, one of the best in Trilenkary, the kingdom of his birth.  And he had earned the chance to sell his wares to the royals themselves.  There was to be a feast.  The celebration would honor a special guest who was visiting the royal capitol, but according to rumor, the five princes would likely usurp the event and the feast would honor them instead. Continue reading