amethyst-rain

Marquise d'Ephemeral...

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The Little Mermaid by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

The Little Mermaid

The Little Mermaid The first thing anyone could notice about her was a tail of shimmering emerald and onyx. All gossamer and silk, it fluttered gently about where her lithe ankles shouldn’t be. She was not just a girl, the product of clay and sun and air. She was a mermaid, child of the foam and brine. Or at least… once she had been. Now she was a nothing, an in-between. Ruined oceanid, malformed human. Yet here she was, in a verdant gown so luscious that it would have made any woman look a princess, and something was wrong. Something was off, not about the dress, but about her. Everything from her fresh eyes to the way she had to

Brighid by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Brighid

Brighid Her bare, shapely legs were twisted up among the ivory bedding and discarded sheets of crumpled paper. Her limbs seemed as pale as either, if not lighter still, almost luminescent in their beauty. The twisted corner of her bed sheets curled around her perfect slender ankle but then covered no more of that elegant limb until it finally pulled back over at the very highest point of her thigh. The other leg was more cleverly bound. Bent at the knee, the sheet snaked around her leg in lazy loops, catching scrunched-up paper like the flotsam of unfinished dreams and half-baked plans for adventures, caught up against this waylaid vessel.

Stones by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Stones

Hands interlocked calmly, eyes bright, I try to keep it down. This feeling, like I have been swallowing stones, churning tightly together in this ineffective crusher. The heavy grinding as they clack together echoing through me in shuddering, arrhythmic waves... But their dead weight drags everything that is me inwards, deep into the crusher. Yet I felt their powdered mineral poison pervading my every vein, spreading out tendrils of twisting, burning heat from this cold, mechanized pit of stones. How do they do this, burn and freeze at the same time in this vile flurry? I am in a frenzy but I am calm. There seems nothing but you and me, ever

Sunrise in a Glass by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Sunrise in a Glass

Sunrise in a Glass The woman behind the bar said she put a sunrise in my glass, but in the cold dank light it just looks like a glass of urine. I tell her that, she laughs. I scoff and pretend like I meant it as a joke, not an educated judgment based on the smell as well. All I can think about is how much I hate this place, this drink, this girl. Yet I come here, night after night, and descend into Hell. Like Dante, perhaps she is my Virgil, come to lead me through the levels, down into the depths. But she is no great poet; the definition of verbosity to her is any word not included in the drinks menu. She is not the beautiful Helen, whose

Fatalistic Destination by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Fatalistic Destination

Fatalistic. That’s how she always viewed her life, as fatalistic. As if it had been a slow progressive march to that terrible event, that final splendid death. Now, as she stood upon the precipice, she couldn’t help but tremble. The life, her life, that they had just prophesised the end to, seemed so fulfilling now that it was about to be stolen away. If she could hold just a season more, another day, another night, steal them one by one until she had stolen back a year. But she wasn’t a clever thief. She never learnt how. Never knew to fight for a day. Send them away, tell them to call no one, she’ll pretend to do that

A Tryst or Two by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

A Tryst or Two

Kick off shoes, kiss on the cheek, scotch in the glass, useless small talk about ‘pleasant days’; I wonder if she hates it as much as me. Does she say ‘love you’ but mean ‘you’ll do’. It’s like getting married in a suit that has arms and legs that are just a fraction too short. Like Christmas for a diabetic, when you really like pudding. But falling into the couch, it doesn’t seem to matter so very much. I’m comfortable here, hardly joyful and maybe somewhere else, I could be both…? Gourmet meal, she cooks, I clean, modern world, cooperate life, equal division of labor; I wonder if she&#

The Crack by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

The Crack

She kneels next to him, pressing her body into his warm shoulder, wrapping herself around him as they stare up at the ceiling. The room is safe, the room is warm and he is caring. Bright lights glow, bathing the comfortable cream-walled room with an almost otherworldly perfection. The bed is soft and the carpet is plush, everything around the two glistens and gleams. She presses her cheek to his, breathing in his scent and that of freshly pressed sheets. She loves it. But there is a crack in the perfect room, a corruption that had forced its way in, ripping the ceiling apart in a river of cracks that spread like death from a poisoned vein.

The Familiar Way by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

The Familiar Way

'Take me with you,' she said. 'I'll try harder, I promise.' Grasping desperately at him, she caught his arm. Twisting her fingers into the expensive fabric of his shirt, she would not let go. 'It was a mistake, please. It won't happen again.' He shook her off dismissively, throwing another shirt into his small suit case. 'Leo, please!' She fell to her knees, reaching out for him again. Tears formed in her eyes, running little black rivers down her face. 'I love you. Doesn't that mean anything?' Realising she could reach him, he took a step away, never meeting her eyes. 'Not anymore.' An exclamation of horror slipped from her lips. 'Giorgett

Lingerie and Fine Bone China by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Lingerie and Fine Bone China

They billowed in the wind like sheets, hanging from the old Hills Hoist; large, white and shapeless. A week and a half worth of lingerie and negligees. No, she though, staring out of her kitchen window towards this effigy of mediocre living. These were not delicate French lace, designed to highlight and fetishize. There were underwear and nightshifts. Designed to protect against the frost and cold embarrassment. With quivering hands she lifted the teapot, gently pouring to fill the fine bone china teacup. It didn't matter now, what these hidden garments looked like. There was no one to see them anymore, no one to impress. They were mere perf

Rapunzel by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Rapunzel

In the dappled forest light, the Prince held his shining sword high, shielding his face. This was no mere wood, it was a tangled jungle of unknown dangers. The trees stood close, older than the time of man. They knew secrets beyond any mortals knowledge. They knew he moved among them, he heard their whispers in the breeze. They did not want him there. They would do him harm. He was not from this place. Though it was within his kingdom, he had no dominion here. He heard there message clearly; Leave this place. Yes, this was a place of darkness. A place of evil. He should not be here. Suddenly he heard another voice upon the wind. A sweet and

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The Little Mermaid by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

The Little Mermaid

Brighid by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Brighid

Stones by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Stones

Sunrise in a Glass by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Sunrise in a Glass

Fatalistic Destination by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Fatalistic Destination

A Tryst or Two by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

A Tryst or Two

The Crack by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

The Crack

The Familiar Way by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

The Familiar Way

Lingerie and Fine Bone China by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Lingerie and Fine Bone China

Rapunzel by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Rapunzel

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Past Beauty by live-for-life, literature

Literature

Past Beauty

As a child, he would always run through the forest near his house. He would muddy his clothes, and be scolded for it. The next day, a gift would be sitting on his bed; a new shirt, new shoes, new pants. His face would light up, cheeks rosy and eyes bright. They called him adorable, beautiful, life itself. As he grew, he was given anything he wanted, never having to whine or beg. His features sharpened, his eyes darkened, but he was still called beautiful. Mothers would push their daughter’s in his direction, even at this early age. His hair curled at the nape of his neck, dark and full. He began to outgrow childhood innocence, learning

Musings by xECLAIRx, literature

Literature

Musings

A lot of people, pushing through foot-traffic with shoulders squared like oxen, eyes downcast and hands clenched, will snatch a furtive glance - like pickpockets, though most will never know that compulsion - at people like me. The walls of their minds, put up fresh for a new day of mustn't-think-about-that, are a blank and ready canvas for the graffiti of pointless thought some call imagination. Mental vandalism splashes across the unconscious in lurid colour and often (I see it in their eyes, and anyway, I've read it too many times for it to be a rare idea) they imagine that we, the people of the street, unable, obviously, to fulfill any or

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Sleeping Beauty by amethyst-rain, literature

Literature

Sleeping Beauty

He slashed at the vines with determination but they seemed to tangle themselves around him. He had to get through. She was there waiting. The Prince stared up at the tower window, wiping the blood from his face where the thorns had cut him. He was so close, so close to her now. He raised his sword, swinging it down in a bright arc. The thorns that had wrapped themselves around the gate fell away and the grand door swung open. The castle was still and empty... Everything lay in disrepair. Slowly, he began to climb the twisting stairs, to the highest room in the tallest tower. He knew that here lay the Princess; the Sleeping Beauty. He tried

Sleeping Beauty

amethyst-rain

About amethyst-rain

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Artist

Australia
Deviant for 19 years
She / Her

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Favourite Movies

At The moment? Quills... Always? Disney.

Tools of the Trade

Quills with green and silver ink...

Other Interests

Reading, Writing...

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amethyst-rain

Feb 8, 2008

Seriously Overdue Update

0 min read

Well, salutations all, Yes it took me over a year to update my journal.. do I have guilt about this? NO! Actually, that's a terrible lie, I'm sorry, please  don't hate me! Still doing Uni and TAFE, and searching for a job o fit between them, and writing novels but hopefully I will be able to get a fair few more short stories up here, as well as being forced by Anna (Dark-Myth) to write a ton of lyrics for her to write music too, so they may make them up here Back in the real world, had another birthday, about to move house, still have an Absinthe obsession I have also been painting some but it is doubtful tht any of that

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amethyst-rain

Jan 14, 2007

A Whole New Year

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Despite the near Disney quote in the title, and the copious other evidence contrary to the fact, I am now legally an adult. As such, and as it is, as aforementioned, a whole new year, I believe you deserve an update. When I say update, I mean quick brief. A) I just discovered I have been accepted into a professional writing course, meaning that I have received some form of industry recognition. This thrills me beyond words. I might post up the story introduction (and 100 word plot summary) that I had to submit in. They started us with the sentence " 'Take me with you,' She said. 'I'll try harder.' " I mean what is that?! That is dreadful! T

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amethyst-rain

Apr 26, 2006

Hiatus Terminated

0 min read

Hello DA, Just though I would give a brief updated on my distinct lack of 'art'. I having been writing a novel with, despite the 30,000 words is no where near completion. This pretty much explains why I have no other writing up. It seems to take up a lot of my creativity, and the other stuff I am writing on the side has been pretty lengthy too. Hopefully, however, I should have some other shorter, not so insanely florid, prose up soon enough. If anyone feels like throwing general ideas at me, it would be greatly appreciated. In other news, I am doing photography classes, and there is a slight possibility that some of that work might finall