I recently found an old Word file with over 300 pages of orphaned story fragments and my first novel. It’s over 228,000 of old memories, lost friends and enemies, and empty hallways that lead to no where. A lot of it is meant to stay in the dark, but some of it wants to go places. And until I figure out where they should go, this place will have to do…
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The second floor belongs to Olivia and me, and we share it with the new neighbor across the hall. The neighbor is on probation until he learns the Rules. He needs to understand that we need our Space, and that the moon belongs to us; it is our protector and it sees Everything.
I think you know me.
Olivia, I believe, is an elfin princess sent to spy on us. She uses her subtle beauty to distract us for information. She watches me sleep and finds patterns in the way that I drool.
I will play her Game for now.
She tells me that she knows how to speak to the fairies in the backyard; it has something to do with knowing their speed, meeting them at their level. She says the fairies are restless. I tell her to tell them that we all are and to get in line.
She’s got an eye for detail, part of her elfin powers. She knows where to put things, whereas I don’t. She tells me that my Disgust goes next to my Fear on the shelf above the refrigerator. All of this time I was putting such things with the peanut butter.
At night, she jumps out of the window, flies over the house and plucks stars out of the Night Garden. She tells me that these particular stars are weeds and take away from the Beauty.
I don’t know what to say to that.
I just don’t like her messing with my Constellations.
Olivia is the Orange Queen of All.