Burning is so hot. You cannot hold your breath enough long enough to stand the smell.
Sure — I know they'll release the dogs. I know there are dogs out there.
They are fighting for the filly.
Cissie will be broken.
RIPPLES IN MOONLIGHT
A clever eye is the best a boy can hope to have to see the water at night in the thin moon.
CHEATER
Everyone played the game. He'd watched from the sidelines, eager to participate, to be part of the thrill of pulling it off under his wife's own nose. But he traveled too much, and playing the game with strangers, when his wife could never catch him, was never as fun. He waited for the day he retired, when he could play with her sister and her cousin and her best friend. It was supposed to be the grand finale, the gaping, scaly trophy that cinched his glory years.
But tragedy struck before he could join in.
"Ain't seen you playing," his friends said.
"You won't, either," he said morosely. "Now I got time to play it, of course, my Eloise is dead."
The path we walked, I could not see myself to follow. Still I followed. No rain falls. No birds swift past. The river is quite near.
The Ohio hung from orbit.
For hours, I beaded the yellow box.
***
Artist's Note:
How could I resist altering this page when I realized the word "beaded" was printed on it?
THE FATHER FLAMES
Mother river and the fields were burning.
The father flames were brief, guttering, then growing light.
UP
Might you not wait for dark to come to alight on a feather and fly above the yonder sea?
I would tell you not to wait in a heartbeat.
Let everyone see you. You deserve a grand exit.
KEEPING MUM
There were things I knew, terrible things that should probably go to the grave with the old man lying on the bed. But it didn't matter. I wouldn't stay silent. I didn't keep secrets for the dying, and especially not for him.
For weeks, Mother begged me not to say a thing, but her reasons were all wrong. I wouldn't listen to her, not about this. Besides, quiet wasn't my want at all.
After the funeral, everything would come out.
TEMPORAL ANOMALY
The wristwatch said a quarter to six — hours before I would get lost in time.
SIREN LULLABY
The lake lapped at the skiff.
I sang.
I sang to tip over the skiff.
He fell into the water. The surface was so very close. He tried to kick and paddle toward it. The broken skiff blocked the way.
He started to scream at me. He cursed me with his last breaths. He tried, one last time, to escape. But he could not see the sun. He never would again.
I watched as he sank into the dark depths of the lake. My sisters waited there.
***
Artist's Note:
The crease from the book spine is visible here.
This page is a tricky one and shows that I'm trying to learn how to do altered pages as I go. If viewers only had the image to go on, then I feel like the two sentences in white could be read two ways, either: "He screamed at me, but he could not see the sun," or, "But he could not see the sun. He screamed at me."
TRAGEDY IN THE LAKE
I breathe in the lake as dragonflies stitch the air above.
But there is only sun-time here and no sign of my sister.
Momma wakes; wakes up screaming.
TWO-DOLLAR TRUCKS AT DUSK
It may be that you conjure a name to call him by, this boy—riding back to his sister's town in a two-dollar truck with dusk coming on.
You won't ever know his real name. You know this, but you wonder what it might be, anyway. He held the door for you at the convenience store. It was a common gesture, one you'd done yourself, but this moment in time struck you funny and made your attention sharpen on this man, who you realized was about your age.
You didn't see him as you browsed the aisles, but he was already in line when you approached the register. He turned and saw you and gave you a friendly smile of recognition. He held the same exact snacks as you! How often does that happen? He must have grabbed them in a different order to you to pull that off without you seeing him. But he was on his phone, leaving no room for conversation with you. He was talking to his sister, telling her he was coming to see her but not to wait up; the trip would take most of the night.
He was out the door half a minute before you were. In the parking lot, you caught the rumble of his engine as his battered truck slid out onto the street and into the coming dusk.
THE DOGLESS AUTUMN
The Leader and the Knights will pass through the dogless autumn and live: That's what we say to beat the Invincible. It's a campfire tale, nothing more than a sliver of hope passed among us underdogs whenever our cruel overseers wander out of earshot. Many months ago, the Knights and their commander set off across unforgiving terrain in the worst conditions imaginable. That was the last we heard of them until merely days ago. Now the rumors say that, undaunted by the journey, the Knights have reached the castle, stormed it and conquered it. The King has abandoned his throne like the coward he is. The Knights are in charge, and they are coming to free us all.
The courtiers' overseers have tried to stop the news from spreading, but we have heard it, all the same. We share the tale eagerly with anyone who will listen, telling ourselves that if the Knights managed to do it, so could we. The Knights will help us, but we don't need to wait. We can join the fight and make a stand, and we will make ourselves free.
She could hear the mother of water talking to the horses. The horses run above the water. The sound pressed against the mountainsides. Under the ocean in Ohio, the daughter remembered the deep prints of the horses.
THE SILVER QUEEN AND THE GRANITE CITY
The tattered blade of the Silver Queen swings wide to take our heads.
I grab my brother and pull him out of its path. The sword cleaves the air where his neck had been moments before.
The Silver Queen bellows in rage and swings again.
This time, my brother grabs me and drags me into the crawlspace under a nearby wagon. It's the only path out of this plaza not blocked by the Queen's guard. The Silver Queen's blade passes through the wooden wall of the wagon like butter. We don't stick around to see what damage it'll do next.
The Captain of the Guard shouts for his men to cut us off, but they are too slow. We roll under the wagon and scale the hill of the granite City. We drop over the wall and run into the crowded market streets.
The Silver Queen hates the City with its dull granite decor. The City, in turn, is no friend of hers, even if it's in her domain. She may look for us here, but it's just as likely that she'll choose not to try. Regardless, the Silver Queen will never find us. We know these streets as well as we know each other; we know where to go and how to hide.
***
Artist's Note:
This one will hopefully not make anyone dizzy trying to read it.
In the jack-in-a-box in the woods is a shy turtle's shell.
HARDHEADED FATHER
For months, I needed enough faith to love a hardheaded father.
I can dream. To conjure a dream is easy.
***
Artist's Note:
This one's a little tricky to read. I know how I want people to read it, but even my eye is drawn to that "father" up at the top. Oh, well. I've been learning as I go. I'm happier with other parts of the composition.
The dark shading to the right is due to the crease in the book I'm altering. All of the altered pages I'm posting on DeviantArt have not been removed from the book.
CAPTURING THE QUEEN
The queen sat with the night birds in the head-high weeds.
We in the head-high weeds drop to our hands and knees and then to our bellies — moving to our prey.
Bingo. We have her.
HER IN THE DARK
Hanging in orbit, our daddy had seen her in the dark.
LEAVING EARTH FOR HOME
Oh, to be in orbit! In Earth orbit, I could come to my brother as he lifted off to orbit home.
LIFT OFF
I said, "Hold orbit."
I could see the way we took, the curved mounds left when we lifted off.
OPAL
Ida walks farther out, stumbling over the harrowed ground. The ground is soft, still, weedy, softest under Ida's feet in the weedless place she had helped RC dig the hole.
TRAPPED, TEASED CAT
Did you think we would die of it?
WE WALK ALONG THE CLOUDS