The Eye in My Ceiling

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 Feather of Arke

“Are you all right?” the voice asked. “Can you tell me your name?”

It was a man. She heard him. She couldn’t see him. All she saw was the bright golden light.

“Do you think you can get up?” he asked.

She didn’t realize that she was down.

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The Bard of Trilenkary

In 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.

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