The Village Feast (A Short Story)

Note: I wrote this story in 2011, as an assignment for an English Comp. class in college. It is one of only a handful of short stories I've written that isn't erotic in nature. It's also something I've thought many times could turn into a much larger story - this brief story could very easily become the first page or so of a novella, if I had time to work on it. This is the first time I've read this in years. The only copy I had was posted on my Facebook page, which has been deactivated since 2012. I have wanted to go on there to retrieve this story for close to a year now. What finally made me do it was actually the difficulty I've had writing the other story I've been working on. I've kind of promised you guys a story, so had to fulfill that promise. So, here is the story, complete with my original opening note from Facebook. Hope you enjoy.

 In our comp class, we were told to write a short story which contained the following elements: A dragon, a beach ball, dinnerware, and a thunderstorm. This is what I came up with.  

 The Village Feast

     The sun blazed in the sky, a scorching yellow beach ball against a sea-blue backdrop. The dragon alit from the castle parapet, the force of the wind caused by the beating of its massive wings rattling dinnerware in cupboards throughout the valley. As the dragon rose into the sky, the sun prismed through its translucent wings, decorating the hillside like a stained-glass window.
     Antoinette looked up from her loom, despair filling her eyes as she watched the beast climb into the sky. She moved around the house quickly, gathering what few precious items she owned and storing them in a small hole under the floor. She ran out of the simple house toward the nearest of the caves in the hills surrounding the village. As she reached the entrance, the first screams from the far side of town pierced the air.
     Antoinette carefully made her way toward the back of the narrow cave, her eyes adjusting to the darkness enough to see the shapes of four other townspeople ahead of her, but she was unable to recognize them in the gathering gloom. She sat against the cold dirt wall, hoping more villagers would make it to the safety of the cave. As the minutes wore on, however, her hope turned to dread, as only one more person entered the cave that day, a younger man, by the sound of his breathing.
     Six people, hiding in a cave that used to hide nearly one-hundred. Back then they would be packed in so tightly it was difficult to breathe. With only six people in the cave, there were vast oceans of isolation separating them. Antoinette pulled her legs to her chest, waiting out the long, terrible day, falling asleep to the sounds of screams and the faint smell of smoke.
     During the night, she awoke to the sound of distant thunder. Gathering her courage, Antoinette made her way to the mouth of the cave. The destruction before her was worse than usual. The acrid stench of smoke, mingled with the copper-rich smell of blood, filled her nostrils. Not a single dwelling in the village remained standing. Each building was now a smouldering pile of embers or a wind-strewn scattering of splinters and ash, and most of the fields were trampled or scorched.
     Antoinette carefully scanned the sky for any sign of the dragon. As the moon peeked out from behind a cloud, she could see the creature perched again atop the castle in the distance. Done, then, for another year, she thought.
     She carefully made her way to the smoking remains of her home, thankful that the darkness hid the carnage that surely must be strewn throughout the valley. She circled the foundation of the house as the first drops of rain began to fall, searching for an opening to reach the hiding hole in the floor. Finally finding a gap, she picked her way through the rubble, cautiously avoiding the few small fires still burning. The wind began to gain speed, the storm beginning to gather strength, as she carefully uncovered her hidden treasures. Lightning streaked across the sky as she removed the last few boards over the hole...
     Antoinette stared, disbelieving, into the small hole for several minutes, tears and rain streaming down her face. Everything she held dear, every remnant that held the memory of her husband, destroyed. All that remained were ashes and a small puddle of molten metals.
     Around her, the thunderstorm raged. "Sleep well, dragon," she uttered, her voice quiet but strong. "Next year when you come to enjoy your feast I shall not hide."

To Do List

I haven't posted recently because I've been trying to work on a short story. It's not going well though, as I've only conjured up a total of two sentences so far. Perhaps I'm trying too hard. Here's a regular post instead. The story will come eventually.

I follow one of my teachers from college on Instagram, and she's doing this "40 Before 40" thing - essentially a bucket list of things to do before she turns 40 in the spring. It's made me start thinking of things I'd like to do (or at least attempt) before I turn 50.

In no way will my list have 50 things. I mean hell, I've been thinking about it for a few weeks and only have like 10 things so far, if that.

So here are my things to do before I'm 50... So far.

1. Audition for a play
2. Travel to Europe (especially Spain and Ireland)
3. Go on a cruise
4. Go to a drag show
5. Write a book
6. Finish the painting I started in high school
7. Actually get a role in a play

That's pretty much it so far. As much as I'd like to put in there something like go back to school to get my bachelor's degree, that's simply not realistic. With two young kids who are getting into sports and a full time job I simply don't have the time, nor do I have the desire to incur more student loan debt than I already have.

I think the most attainable of these goals is obviously going to a drag show. There's a gay bar in Akron that's only a few miles from my house that has drag shows several times a year. That one is just a matter of getting up the nerve to go.

The least attainable, in my mind, will be going on a cruise. That is simply due to my issues with motion sickness. I don't know if I'll be able to talk myself into risking the chance of being sick as a dog for a week just so I can go see some whales and icebergs. (It would be an Alaskan cruise, if it were up to me.)

Other random thoughts that have been on my mind lately:

- I need to bake more. I haven't baked too much lately because of dieting. I've been too afraid that making some tasty treats will cause the waistline to expand again. What I should do is bake a bunch of stuff and take some to work, and send some to work with the wifey. I love being in the kitchen. Baking things from scratch is very peaceful for me.

- Masturbation is a billion times easier and more fun in a skirt.

- One day I might be honest about why I didn't finish getting my degree when I went to Kent State. I told my manager last week, and that was the first time I've ever actually been honest about it. The lie I've made up, which I already talked about in an earlier post, is actually way less embarrassing than the truth. By leaps and bounds.

- My friend Shannon got engaged recently and I don't think I've ever been happier for someone to get engaged.

- This bout of writer's block I've had while trying to write this short story has felt like a swift kick to the nuts.

I guess that's it for now. Nothing particularly eventful is happening at the moment - at least, nothing I'm in the mood to write about, anyway.

Two straight posts with dull titles. What is this blog coming to?

Paranoia and Other Madness

A wise woman has told me repeatedly that I need to quit telling myself stories. In other words, I need to stop assuming things and imagining problems that don't actually exist. I also need to stop being so insanely fucking paranoid.

I think that's my biggest issue right now - paranoia is starting to affect far too many aspects of my life. I feel like things are my fault even when I have absolutely nothing to do with them. I've also fallen into a vicious cycle of feeling like people are out to get me.

The bad thing is, not all of my paranoia turns out to be unfounded. For instance, another person at work who I trusted enough to confide in regarding cross dressing has decided to break that trust. She told another woman we work with, and that woman, in turn, directly approached me about it.

It's making me feel, yet again, like I should have never opened myself to anybody. I don't know who I can trust anymore, or who I should have trusted to begin with.

I've often said I'm not a great judge of character. It's been especially true with people I work with - not just at my current job, but nearly every job I've had. Often times I trust people I shouldn't, I dislike people that most people like, things of that nature.

I've kind of gotten off track a bit.

Back to the coworker who exposed my secret...

This was the first time I was actually not extremely upset about someone telling someone else about my cross dressing tendencies. I was a bit unhappy, yes, because while I do talk about it openly to those I've shared that information with, and speak about it very openly (yet essentially anonymously) in this blog, it still felt like a bit of a slap in the face when this woman came up to me Monday and said, "I know your secret..."

My initial instinct was to flat out deny everything, especially when she said the woman who told her was drunk at the time. Then I felt myself becoming extremely pissed off. For once, though, I was able to fend off the anger very quickly, for two reasons. First, like I said in an earlier post apologizing to someone else, it feels hypocritical of me to write about all this stuff on this blog, so I can sort out my feelings, yet expect people I dump all this on to not need to talk to others to sort out their own feelings. Second, the woman who approached me Monday is someone I would have eventually told anyway, I think. At the very least, I'm not ashamed she knows, so that's a good thing.

Sorry for the dreadfully long post. I've just had a lot on my mind and no time to write. My next post will be a short story I'm working on. It's being written using one of my favorite techniques, where someone gives me three random items, and I have to include each of them in the story. Not the most sophisticated of writing prompts, but it's fun.

No fancy quote for the title. Sorry.

Pull Out Some Hope For Me

I have realized lately that if I were to live as Emily full time, I would never be able to speak to most of my family again. Maybe not any of them at all. That is such a sad feeling, knowing that I would be more alone than I've ever been. Yes, I would have the love and support of some people, but losing the love and support of my family would be absolutely devastating. My dad, especially, would be unlikely to ever speak to me again if he knew about my current level of cross dressing and my deep down desires to be a woman.

Just as I was typing the above sentence, my dad sent me yet another meme making fun of Caitlyn Jenner. He sends at least three a week, along with several each week ripping on gay marriage, and often other offensive memes. How do I deal with his ignorant bullshit without exposing the real me? Hell if I know. This is what I'm up against, though. This is why I feel so completely trapped.

My father isn't the only person who I would have to stop taking to. My mom, most of my aunts uncles and cousins, and a very large percentage of my friends would all completely shun me. My sisters and many of my other friends might possibly be accepting down the road, but not for a long time. I can honestly say the are only about a dozen people I care about who would be mostly accepting of me long term.

But still I hold out hope.

I hope one day I can truly be myself. I hope I can live my life without fear of rejection. I hope for so many things...

So many things.

Title today is from "Long Day" by Matchbox Twenty.