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She knew it was a dream when she saw the Skuld smile—a pretty smile, not her typical sad, boney smile, stiff and sugared with regret. No, this smile she was given was one of pride, without any accompanying guilt or grief. A warm smile. A smile that illuminated all her dark places. “You did…
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When Astrid woke, she was in the grove. Her body was cool and stiff. She sat up, trailing her hand across the dew gathered on her skirt. Mist rolled over the ground. The Skuld was not with her. She had come to the grove after Lodvik stormed away from her. It pulled her…
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Sigmund lay awake in the dark, fingering the chain around his neck. The sun would come up soon; the sky was already lightening, the first pale light of dawn peeking through the curtain. He and Magnhild would stay on the farm. It was unusual for the man to take the woman into his family…
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Readers rejoice! You get an extra blog post this week because some things I’ve been thinking about for awhile can no longer be left unsaid. Last night, I had the great joy of attending a production of Jesus Christ Superstar, a coproduction of Drag Daddy Productions and the Chicken Coop Theatre Company. There were gender…
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Astrid watched the crowd from afar, mingling and celebrating with Sigmund and Magnhild on the green beside the goat pen and the barn. When her mother had come home from her talks with Ranog a week ago, her father had wasted no time before he visited the black smith. The chain Leif had made…
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Astrid closed her eyes that night, wanting for sleep, but the spirits were restless. They were arguing. The spirits never wholly agreed on anything. For every spirit who encouraged, there was one who tried to convince you otherwise. For every wise voice in the chaos, there was one who was always irrational. Then there were…
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Sigmund watched the flowing water of the stream, thinking only of Magnhild’s revelation to him. Freya—the Bairn who scared him most—had done a reading for her. She would mother three boys. They would be his boys, he knew. When he asked Astrid to read the runes for him two nights ago, he had had Magnhild…
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Astrid stirred her finger around the pool that the rain had left in the road. The water swirled with dirt as her finger glided through it. Her youngest brother, Asmund, watched her closely. He dipped his finger into the pool as well, imitating her movements. Astrid smiled at him, but thought it best not to…
The Quick and the Dead
Short stories. Creative experiments. Ideas that might not pan out.
The Quick and the Dead 