Myth and Folklore

I think I would write my story during the breakfast the morning of the wedding contract.  This is the day after Lady Mary has witnessed Mr. Fox and his murderous secrets.  I would like to do Mr. Fox's point-of-view because as a nervous person I think it would be easier to write the sweaty-palmed anxious Mr. Fox than the cool demeanor Lady Mary as she recounts her "dream" and reveals she knows his secret. The story really plays on rhyme/rhythm in the dialogue, which would be interesting to use on my own.  The characters, when replying to each other, really play off what the other is saying; it has an essence of parallelism that really resonates when they're speaking.  This was really apart of the literature at that time, so I guess if I wanted to give it a more modern twist I could make it less apparent in its "parallel" voice. An interesting thing about the story is that we don't know why Mr. Fox has all those bodies.  Serial killing wasn't really...

You may have heard the tales of Cinderella , of Snow White , and of Beauty and the Beast .   This tale of romance takes inspiration from these but do not expect the dainty princess and charming prince.   This is a clashing of man and beast – lovers who are hearty and monstrous, trained in warfare and battle, to fight without grief or remorse.   This is the tale of Beowulf and to the beast, which he gave his heart: the monster called Grendel… The first time Beowulf heard of the mysterious creature haunting the hall of Hrothgar, he sat in mountainous Geatsland only two seats down from King Hygelac.   Queen Hygd, the Wise and Fair, took her place beside his favored nephew.   Tales of the North were rare and he looked forward to the bard’s sweet-voice and song.   With only a nod from the greying king silence swept across the merry feast.   Even the children hushed, staring with awe-struck eyes at the figure standing at the King’s side. After bei...

Sussistinnako the Solipsist alone, spinning ceaselessly lines of the stars web of the universe, weaving tiredlessly, alone entrenched by nothingness, I am swallowed by the vastness spread as far as I can fling the string of my hope - it never catches, falling back into my hands I tie knots in my string, the filament of my desire to end the solitary confiment I was born into the design I thread is the only needle sewing closed the gap between emptiness and fullness finally, two parcels I graced and sang, sang, sang, of love and sadness and great joys until children born of my own gossamer come forth wrapped in the guaze of ivory twins, silken daughters I brought forth to end my loneliness did I end my loneliness or have I only prolonged happiness did I create my happiness or have I only weaved my loneliness i construct, i destroy, i am all fruit of my loom, the blanket woven of my hand, it is me alone, spinning ceaselessly lines of the ...

Revenge of the Sandfly (A Prolouge to  How Nzambi Won and Lost Her Daughter) Nzambi, the Divine Mother, dwells on Earth with her daughter while Nzambi Mpungu - a supreme diety, a creator god - sits in the heavens.  It was a warm day when Nzambi awoke to unusual silence.  Her ears strained for the sound of her child's laughter, but she did not hear the joyful noise.  Startled, Nzambi strode into wakefulness and looked around.  There was a mess about their den and the dirt was peppered with unfamiliar prints.  Breathing deep, Nzambi called to the spirits of the Earth to guide her to the lost child. Along the way, Nzambi stumbled upon a tortiose turned upon his back.  His short legs pedaled in the air, for the sound of the lion's paws spurred fear into the creature even more so than his current predictiament did.  But he was soon to realize that the predator who stalked through the tall grass was not like the other beasts who roamed about....

The Beauty of the Stone Ape In the East, glittering in the Great Sea's mist an island protrudes from the trembling ocean. Chinese lore calls it the Mountain, Mountain of Flowers and Fruits for it blossoms with life overflowing. Indeed, the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits is enriched with colors exotic and vibrant, covered in boundless waves of green which shimmers gold when the Sun lights the ground aflame. There was but one blemish which studded the promontory jutting from the middle of the Mountain of Flowers and Fruits called The High Rock. It was round, long ago smoothed by the temper of the waves when the sky and ocean were unmarred by the peaking of mountains but made any eye that feasted on its image convulse for it carried a hollowness, filled with a rotten egg misshapen and stinking a fume green as the tree-leaves. Unbeknownst to mortals, though well-known to the Heavens, The High Rock had stood since the birth of Time. I...

King of the Dead Osiris lay in the Nile, dismembered and dishonored, as king of nothing. Overthrown from his throne on the divine council, Osiris was left an empty shell of great powerful being he had been. The weeping of Isis and Nepthys was bitter, and Osiris did not wish to hear their cries of grief as his body was pulled from the water. Their cries, however, was the saving grace of the usurped king. Ra heard the lamentations of the goddesses. He was displeased at their pain as well as the crude honor of Osiris’ murderer, Set. Ra delivered Thoth and Horus to assist the god Anubis, who was sent from heaven to reunite Osiris’ body. The severed limbs were united and then swathed in linen bandages. As Anubis sewed his arm to his hand, Osiris could feel his fingers. As his toes were placed back on his foot, he could imagine how little effort it would take to wiggle them again. When Iris flew above him and her great wings blew air into his nose, Osiris once again breathed the air of life....