I’ve always been a fan of Greek and Norse mythology. You might have noticed runes in my work. I also love the idea of gods playing amongst humans. Don’t ask me why. I just do. With that being said, here is a little piece of flash fiction for you that I wrote and illustrated myself. My poor attempt at my version out of something like “American Gods”.
Is any of this real?
She stood by the open sliding doors. Outside a thick, black blanket covered the world. Somehow keeping the earth warm while the cool ocean breeze blew. The curtains were lapping at her body and he could smell her in the air. Intoxicating.
The stars lit up the floor behind her. Paint splatter reflecting the culmination of the night’s feelings: Love, lust, passion, even anger, strewn across the floor like a piece of abstract expressionism.
The moon created an outline of her shape and he felt drawn to her. Her denim jacket framed her shoulders perfectly and her blonde hair was still as bright as sunlight, even in the dark. He could get lost in her. As the air touched his skin he could barely feel the cold but he had goosebumps. She radiated heat. Like a solar flair brushing her lips against his skin, she didn’t need to physically touch him. Even when she didn’t know he was watching her, she was hypnotizing him.
He saw one of his notebooks, floating through the paint-splatter-lights on the floor. As the book floated it told a story. A story of love, dreams, creation and life. A story she didn’t finish because it was too sad. She stared out into the night, over the canopy, past the sand and over the ocean. It was his story, of that, she was sure. But she didn’t want it to be his. As she looked into the night she was making up new endings to his story. Weaving threads and tales, all coming together here, with her.
The air was cool, and so was his gaze. “Are you cold?” he asked as he put a blanket around her, wrapping her up in his arms.
“Then why the jacket?”
“Because I like the way it makes me feel.” she smiled as a star rolled down her face.
He kissed her. They were alone. Finally, she had him to herself. Their lips parting like a sun splitting in two.
The breeze blew, and the pages of the book opened like sails to the sea.
“Is any of it real?” she asked as she put her head on his shoulder.
“It’s real for me.” he said as he woke up, alone.