The Tutu on the Shelf
By: Chloe
You were ruffles upon ruffles,
purple stacked in soft eruptions,
tulle whispering like secret laughter,
a cloud of fabric resting on my hips,
teaching me how to move
as if I were lighter than I was.
You breathed with me,
soft as if the world were woven from petals,
never once forgotten,
a language I wore without thinking,
girlhood translated into texture.
Then one afternoon, you slipped
behind other fabrics,
a quiet fold toward the back of the closet.
Neither of us knew it was the last time
you would taste sunlight,
the last time your folds would bend
to the curve of movement.
You were carried upstairs,
balanced on a shelf among
pillows with their fabric frayed thin.
That was silence, hemming itself in.
Your brightness dulled into boxes,
your shape into an outline remembered
more by dust than by touch.
And then, nothing.
No ceremony of letting go,
no hands opening to say goodbye.
You simply vanished.
You were lost to me
the way threads slip quietly from cloth:
suddenly, irretrievably,
without the chance to notice.
The suitcase shut without you.
The door closed without you.
The skipping forgot your rhythm.
You did not know
you would not see me again.
And I did not know
you were already gone.
And I walked on, never knowing.
Hollow Eyed Bride
By: Aila
My face was warmed by the morning sun as I lay down, facing the sky. Gently bobbing across the lake in my father’s rowboat, I sighed contentedly. The chirping of birds mixed with the soft lapping of the water started to lull me into a dream-like state. I was startled out of the peace by a sharp knocking on the bottom of the boat that seemed to reverberate through my skull. It was probably just a confused fish, I told myself.
Just as I began to relax, the knocking came again. Piercing and quick, like a rock hitting the hull. I jolted upright and peered over the edge of the boat, expecting to see a large fish or maybe a rock. As I studied the water, I didn’t see anything. I began to lie back down, letting relaxation attempt to hold me in its comforting grip once again.
A soft splash echoed from my right, like the sound of water breaking, followed by the sight of long, pale, bony fingers wrapping themselves around the edge of the boat, skin so pale it was almost translucent. Hollow. I screamed, confusion and fear overtaking my senses like a parasite. Was this some sick dream, or was it just like the movies my sister loved to watch?.
I scrambled as far back as I could, my back hitting the edge of the boat harshly, sending a stab of pain through my body. The boat rocked viciously with my movement. A foul smell filled the air, rotting flesh meshed with the nose-crinkling scents of the lake. Another hand emerged, clinging to the boat, skeletal, pale, with blueish green veins wrapping around the fingers like vines. I trembled in place, no sound coming when I tried to yell as a figure came into view.
It was a woman. A woman who would have been beautiful if it weren’t for the hollow eye sockets and patches of skin missing from her neck and face, revealing greying flesh crawling with small insects. Soaked, black tendrils of stringy hair fell around the woman’s face. She wore a torn white gown, a wedding dress, covered in mud and streaks of carmine. Fear became an iron collar around my neck, tightening more and more as my heart pounded in my chest, my mind trying to convince me that I was seeing things. It had to be a dream, a hallucination.
Her eyes, or rather the absence of them, seemed to pull something from deep within me. The smell was suffocating, my lungs filling with decay. Suddenly, her mouth opened, revealing broken, blackened, and rotted teeth. “Join me,” she whispered, her voice scraping like nails on a chalkboard. One of her frail hands shot out, latching around my ankle like a cuff. I shrieked, trying to kick her away as panic swelled within me. She didn’t let go, only pulled me closer.
Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. My lip quivered as I weakly tried to get away, my body feeling sluggish and fatigued, as if a poison was seeping into my bones and melting them.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the water swirling with distorted shapes that resembled faces, mouths wide and calling for help. I could see their fear, almost hear their voices, feel their terror, all mirroring my own.
“Please,” I begged, my voice coming out pathetically small. The woman didn’t respond, but her papery lips curled into a grotesque smile. Before I knew it, I was dragged into the icy depths, the cold water paralyzing every inch of me. I cried out, but all I got was a mouthful of murky water as my eyes burned and my senses screamed. I desperately tried to kick the woman’s hand away, but my effort was futile.
I floated there, unable to thrash, kick, or fight as my vision began to swim with black dots. The last thing I saw was the bottom of my father’s boat before I was dragged to the land of the lake by the hollow eyed bride.
Whisper of Hooves
By Anonymous
The evening sun bled across the horizon, turning the sky into a picture of fire and gold. The air smelled of warm hay and dust, heavy with the quiet song of crickets. Seiya stood at the paddock fence, fingers curled around the rough wood, staring at the stallion in the far corner. Storm was magnificent — a big shadow against the dying light. His black coat gleamed, muscles rippling as he shifted his feet nervously, ears flicking at the distant call of a bird. His mane hung in wild tangles, like a storm cloud barely held together. “You’re actually going in there?” Luke called from the fence. His voice tried to sound casual, but there was tightness to it.
“I have to,” Seiya said, her voice quiet and a little shaky, but certain. She swung her leg over the fence, boots landing in the soft earth with a small thud. Her boots sinking into the soft sand. As she slowly walked towards him.
Luke frowned. “This isn’t just about the horse, is it?”
She didn’t answer. The paddock smelled of leather, sweat, and musty, dry grass. Beyond it, the hills moved toward the horizon, glowing gold in the fading light. It had been a whole year since the accident. A year of empty rooms and quiet dinners, of shutting the door on everything that reminded her of riding. A year of hiding from her true self. But Storm was different. The day he had arrived at the ranch, fighting the rope, eyes blazing with fury, something had stirred inside Seiya. He was everything she felt — untamed, furious, alive.
The air felt electric as she stepped forward, mosquitoes buzzing against her skin. Storm snorted, hooves pawing at the ground, dust floating into the air like smoke. “It’s all right,” Seiya whispered. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
The world around her narrowed until there was nothing but the sound of her breathing and the stallion’s quick, restless snorts. Her fingers hovered above his neck. Memories surged — her father’s careful hands correcting hers on the reins, the creak of the saddle, her mother’s laugh ringing, echoing around the barn. She had buried those sounds deep inside, but today they rose to the surface.
Her hand touched Storm’s neck. He suddenly reared, hooves as they kicked out in front of him. Head twisting and turning above her.
Seiya stumbled back, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. Luke shouted her name, but she stood her ground, the taste of dust and adrenaline fresh on her tongue. “I’m not leaving!” she called out, her voice high-pitched, carrying out across the paddock.
Storm’s hooves struck the ground with a shudder that vibrated through the earth. For a moment, he was still, chest heaving, nostrils flaring. Then, slowly, he lowered his head. The wildness in his eyes softened. Seiya stepped forward again. The world was silent except for the whisper of the wind. Her palm pressed against his warm, damp neck.
She slipped the bridle over his head, fingers slightly shaky.
Then she climbed onto his back. For a heartbeat, nothing moved. Then Storm leaped forward, and the world turned to thunder. The wind tore through her hair, and the ground blurred beneath them. She felt weightless, alive, the smell of grass and dust filling her lungs. The sky stretched wide above her, streaked with the last flames of sunset. Tears flooded down her face — not from fear, but from overwhelming joy.
When she finally slowed him down, both of them were panting, their breath rising. Luke climbed the fence, shaking his head, but there was pride in his smile.“You’re crazy,” he said, voice soft. Seiya slid down, knees shaking as he hit the ground. She looked up at Storm’s magnificent face, breathing in the beauty of this breathtaking beast.
“I think I’m okay,” she whispered
Luke grinned
Seiya grinned back, stroking Storm’s neck. The last light of day had washed over them, plunging them into dark, and for the first time in a year, she felt whole.
Elements Magazine 