gonna start sharing my absolute nutcase genre thoughts on here in order to avoid the draft
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@hetweridnoe
gonna start sharing my absolute nutcase genre thoughts on here in order to avoid the draft
SERAFINO .
by MW
Aggressive, throat cutting violin plays from downstairs, my treasured child wailed over the vile sound. I’d grown to hate both sounds. Both the violin and Regard wail at all hours.
Serafino hates Regard, Regard hates the violin- and by extension, Serafino. I love both yet can’t fathom listening to the fight between them for the rest of my life.
I stepped onto the balcony, desperate for anything but wailing. And heard my third most hated sound, the gate creaking open as wheels pulled into the driveway.
Fino’s father and brother. And their vile wives.
I ran to the Regard’s room and picked him up, he immediately stopped crying- typical. He didn’t want anything but to be held by me. I fixed my hair in his room mirror.
“Lord Cronus Damon of Everile and the Lady Belladeen.”
“Lord Leviathan of Everile and the Lady Harriet-Irene.”
I looked at myself in the mirror and decided to change outfit. I sat Regard down on the bed which he didn’t seem to mind and got changed as quickly as I could into something more elegant.
A blue dress teal dress that grazed my ankles, embroidered with the flower of Everile, the lily of the valley. I hated this dress.
I put on my wedding pearls. I hated those pearls.
I let my curls fall to my shoulders. I hated doing that.
I hate my life.
I picked up Regard and hurried downstairs where the maid informed me I was not to enter the room where Leviathan, Cronus Damon and my husband were.
The violin music hadn’t stopped. He was practising for Manon. I recognised the intensity. I shivered.
I found Harriet and Bella sat at my dining room table with tea and biscuits.
“Ah I’ll have another sandwich too please…”
“This is my house, Belladean.”
“OH! Yes- it’s-” Belladean had no idea what my name was. She was not subtle.
“Amina.”
“Amina, yes of course. How have you-”
“Pass me the boy.” Harriet demanded. Not making the same effort as Belladean to remember my name, or maybe she did know it and just didn’t care.
I passed her Regard and she examined his face closely “Good. Yes. He will make a fine Lord one day.”
“Lord? What do you mean Lord? I thought Serafino wasn’t in line.”
“Well. There’s been a slight change in circumstance, my dear.” Harriet said, not even looking in my direction.
“And we knew how dreadfully unhappy you both were. This way no one has to feel bad.” Belladean shot me an awkward smile.
“And we will of course change his name. Regard is so silly! Isn’t it! What about… Frederick Damon.” Harriet cooed
“There’s nothing wrong with his name. He’s named after his uncle.”
“Well… he’s not. Because his uncle is called Cronus Damon.”
“My brother. Who died in battle.”
“What battle? Was there a battle on the mainland?”
“Several. He died defending the crown from a military coup in Finnoch ten years ago.” I explained, I took my child back.
“Well that’s not the mainland is it.”
“Care to explain what’s going on?”
“Belladean is infertile. Your son may be in line for the title after all. If she doesn’t produce an heir in the next 2 years, Regard is going to live with her and Cronus Damon.”
“Harriet you cannot just take my child.” I laughed “That’s ridiculous. Besides he’s Serafino and I’s son, and we have hardly any connection to the throne. You made that abundantly clear.”
“People don’t know that. People only know that Serafino isn’t the Lord because he was deemed unfit as a child, and he married you. You’ll obviously be compensated for your role in this all.”
“I’ll have no role, but the role of mother.”
“Did you know Serafino was a homosexual?”
“What? Do you hear yourself, honestly, Harriet.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head, I looked to Belladean who looked uncomfortable.
“I’m serious. I first noticed when he was a child. He had this… girlish way of speaking. Then as a teenager. He had an infatuation with one of the footmen. I caught them kissing in the servants' staircase.”
I stared blankly.
“I had him shot for treason and I locked Serafino in his room for a week.”
“You don’t scare me, Harriet. I know my husband. He isn’t cheating on me and he isn’t gay.”
Belladean watched the exchange, she liked the drama, she was revelling in it. She once spread rumours that Serafino had bedded her before we got married. Untrue of course. She hid a grin behind her hand “Harriet, we shall wait in the carriage?”
“Yes. She is vile company.”
I silently thanked my gods for Belladean's intervention. I walked into Serafino’s study where his father and brother both spoke to him. He wasn’t listening, he was playing a softer melody than before they came along.
“This doesn’t concern you, Delphina.”
“Amina. And as far as I know it does. I am not giving you my son, no matter how infertile your wife is.”
“It’s not Regard that they want. It’s you.”
“What?”
“You have slightly darker skin but they’re hoping to trace that back to Belladean’s mother. Whom I hear is from the mainland.” Serafino explained matter of factly. He wasn’t even listening
“You want me to bare you an heir? Fuck right off.”
“Calm down will you. We want you and Serafino to have another child. Hopefully a son. And then gift it to us.”
“So Fino isn’t royal enough for the title, and Regard isn’t- what’s different about another child born to Fino and I?”
The men in the room went silent.
Everyone but Serafino, who exhaled through his nose, taking a brief pause the whole manor went silent, then as Leviathan started on an excuse, his son started on Paganini: 24 Caprices…
“Well… he will be raised in the manor..”
“I was raised in the manor.” Serafino muttered. He continued playing. I knew my only option was to rip open the stitches to the very fresh wound of Serafino's childhood. I hoped he’d kill them.
“It was your choice not to let him live in the manor. It was your choice to send him to live in the guest house.” Serafino continued playing as I spoke. He turned away, trying to ignore the conversation “It was your choice not to interact with him for the first 7 years of his life. To isolate him from the whole world.”
“It was hardly the worst upbringing.” Leviathan scoffed.
Serafino stopped playing. They thought it was simply a pause in the song. The 24 caprices has no pauses.
“Serafino had an excellent upbringing. He blames us for the death of his mother yet it was her own actions that lead to it. Had she not been such a whore, none of us would be in this mess.”
Serafino. stopped. playing.
I couldn’t help but crack a smile as he raised his instrument over his head and struck it down upon his brother.
“Serafino!” His father yelled, cowering in fear as Serafino began wiping things off shelves and throwing priceless artifacts. I must’ve been beaming because his dizzy brother looked at me with disdain.
“GET OUT.” Serafino picked up a chair and threw it in his fathers direction
“TWENTY SIX FUCKING YEARS AND YOU STILL ONLY COME TO ME WHEN YOU WANT TO USE ME. BARE YOU A FUCKING HEIR, YOU HAD SEVEN HEIRS- ILLIGITIMATE HEIRS YOU DEEMED NOT ROYAL ENOUGH FOR YOUR SHITTY TITLE OR HEIRS YOUR EVIL WIFE KILLED OFF. FUCK OFF.”
Cronus Damon left- or rather was carried out by two maids, Leviathan pulled me by the arm.
“Convince him. I can assure you the remainder of you and your son's lives will be made hellish if Cronus Damon and his wife do not have an heir by next spring.”
I stood tall. “That is nothing to do with me or my son.”
Serafino stood at the window, seething.
I handed Regard to the footman standing at the door who was waiting to tidy up Serafinos outburst
I walked back over to him.
“Are you alright.”
“Fuck my mother.”
“Excuse me?”
“Fuck you for having sex with me. Fuck my mother for having sex with him.”
“Deepest apologies. If we knew you were both violent psychopaths I don’t think we would’ve done it.”
“You’ve cursed Regard to, you know.”
“I know.”
“It’s all your fault when he ends up crazy like me.”
“I know… your family is cursed.”
“It’s your fault. Couldn’t you just have had a daughter first? She could’ve done ballet.”
“I wouldn’t let her.” I mutter.
Serafino looks at me and his gaze softens. Looking up at him I feel unease… but also a sense of belonging I cannot describe or replicate.
While he’s looking at me with lust or… envy or some fucking emotion I can’t read- his hands are on my hips and slowly sliding down to my thighs
I awoke to pipe organ today. And guttural screams of my infant which somehow could still be heard.
I couldn’t tell if he was playing or just slamming his fists into the instrument. Cacophonous and continuous. I found a pair of earmuffs and went about my morning routine.
“SERAFINO!” I yelled over the instrument, holding my earmuffs on tightly.
Serafino wasn’t listening, he did this sometimes and it made me wonder if his musical talent had deafened him some time ago.
“SER A FIINOO!” I screamed as loud as the demonic and perpetual screams of our neonate.
He looked at me as though I’d just called his mother a whore and slapped him across the face.
“What. Whatever do you want.”
“I wondered… well I'm going for a walk and… I’d love some company.”
He blinked at me, then looked at his watch, and the wall clock then sighed and went to grab his coat.
We walked arm in arm, he seemed disinterested.
“It’s such a lovely day isn’t it.”
Serafino hummed, he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and a box of matches, he looked at a pile of leaves on the ground and turned to me, grinning.
I let go of him and he ran like a child to light the leaves on fire.
On our first real date, he expressed to me an adoration for fire, an infatuation even. Fire and music, his two loves. How were Regard and I to compete?
He glanced at me. Sensing my melancholy.
“We took this route on our first day being married. I haven’t walked it since.” He laughed.
“Nearly a year now.”
“Yes. Many more to come.”
“Do you love me?”
“Sure.”
“Say it. Say I love you, Amina.”
“I love you. Amina.”
“I’m not convinced.”
“What, you want me to write you a song? Dedicate myself to making you happy?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. I’ll compose you a song. I warn you, you won’t like it. I don’t feel a lot towards you.”
“You wrote a song about that footman you told me about, I found the lyrics.”
“That situation caused me great pain. Nothing you do causes me pain. I don’t care about you. I’m not a lyricist. I’m a composer.”
“Then what did it mean?” I fold my arms and stare him down hoping to intimidate him into giving me a proper answer. “You wrote, ‘Our love is an orchestra but someone shot the composer, we two in this one relationship she cannot touch.’- and me, the mother of your child, you beat and shout.”
“I cannot love you in the same manner I love a man.” He blurts out. He just stares at me. Waiting for me to speak. I say nothing, I just stare back. He speaks again “But I cannot love a man, like I love you.”
“And do you love me? Do you actually love me? Do you even care?”
“Of course I care. I’d cry if you died, I wait patiently for you to return home, I enjoy laughing with you. I think our hobbies match perfectly and when you dance as I play I feel closer to you than I have anyone else. But I don’t feel romance, I don’t feel sexually attracted. Not to you.”
“I don’t want to just be friends, Serafino.” I can’t control the stream of tears that overcomes me “We’ve been married a year and you spring this on me? Couldn’t you have figured this out before we had Regard?”
“I’ve known for years, Amina dear. Stop crying, you'll ruin your makeup.”
I tried to walk away but he grabbed my arm.
“There’s no use feeling used, Amina. You know what you married, I offered you five thousand in compensation to have the child terminated. You had our child, so you had to marry me- In exchange you got wealth, a comfortable life, an education at the most revered school in the country and the freedom to do as you please. I have a female friend in debruak’n, where they have raised the price of an education so high that only the elites can afford it. Do you want to be on the streets, Amina?”
I shook my head, tears rolled down my cheek.
“Then we can have a good life. You turn a blind eye to me breaking the rules of marriage, and I give you whatever else you want, deal?”
I sighed and nodded.
reminder, something is watching you.
Little Town, NC, 2010
The Pink Chevrolet
The black abyss surrounds me: I look forward and it’s all I can see. I extend my hand toward the darkness, testing if I was indeed trapped or just standing in what seemed to be the furthest “out” part of outer space. Nothing ahead of me, nothing to my feet, nothing to my sides; I feel cold, and lightheaded.
I wear a long, black slim fit dress with thin straps. It’s beautiful. Modern, simplistic- exactly what I’d choose for myself to wear.
Now that my eyes have adjusted to the abyss, I can see my hands, or the pair of gloves that replaced them. The lace had a rather old school pattern on them, they were Victorian. Much like a pair of gloves my mother wore on occasion, they were my grandmother’s in the early 1900s. I remember even as a child I marvelled at them. They represented the beauty and perfection my mother lorded over me.
In my left hand there is a bouquet of flowers. Chrysanthemums, lilies, orchids, roses, marigolds- all white. The kind of flowers you’d see at a funeral.
Where am I?
What am I doing?
I’m in this dark abyss, examining a dress and a bouquet of all things!
“Nancy” a voice echoes beyond the darkness
“Nancy!” It’s getting louder
“NANCY” Much louder…
“NANCY BUFORD YOU’D BETTER BE UP!”
I woke up in the same place I laid my head seven hours prior. My own room. Since I graduated a year ago my mother had been pushing me to get a job. Many of my classmates wanted to be doctors, scientists, lawyers, astronauts even- but me? I wanted to be a true proper Hollywood actress! Well as soon as I find some proper acting gigs. However, for now my life is a dream. My father (George Buford) got his leg blown off in Vietnam a year and a half ago, but before that he was co-founder of his construction company. We moved to LA in 1953, from Montana. I still remember the hilly terrain up in Montana- on one hand I left my childhood there, I may never get in contact with any of my school friends, or see my old house but on the other hand it's the best thing that ever happened to me as around the same time on a ferry from Northern Ireland there arrived a girl and her family. Allison Nicole Higgins. Allison Nicole Higgins is the human embodiment of everything perfect: she’s art, music, beauty and everything else that belongs in a museum. She’s worshipped by everyone she meets, like a god. She and I were inseparable until she met her current boyfriend, Jackson Carlton.
I played back the messages left on my answer machine.
Saturday 1st of December 1962 “Hey Nancy! It's Joanne. Carlton obviously” I fondly remember the insufferable tryhard that is ‘Joan’ Carlton. Joan longed for a taste of the limelight- like her twin brother Jackson had- yet she lacks any real personality. Although Jackson has a personality, he's brainless. I’ve never met their parents but I often find myself imagining a whole family of dolts.
“Just calling to ask whether you were still coming to our 19th birthday party tonight. I’d really appreciate your presence” More like my presents. I’ll bring her a whole new wardrobe and burn everything in her old one for her “It’s blacktie but we all know you’ll shine like the gleam of a camera.. Jackson says hi!” At that moment I decided to go, but only to one-up Joan.
RING RING
“Morning, Nance!” Her voice immediately puts a small smile on my face.
“Hello my love, Are you going to Joanne’s tonight?” I’m a different person around Allison Nicole Higgins: she makes me want to better myself, or better yet to run away with her and forge new identities for ourselves far away from LA and never look back.
“Course I am, silly! It's Jackson and I’s sixth month together- An engagement can’t be long away now Nance! Oh I love him so.” I should've been happy for Allison. But I wasn’t. Jackson doesn’t care about Allison. He doesn’t know her favourite breakfast food, or that her favourite type of books are horrors but she’s terrified of vampires. He doesn't appreciate her.
“Oh… Yeah. it is.”
“You wouldn’t mind picking me up in the chevy- would you?”
My pink chevy- My 1962 Pink Chevrolet Impala. The car given to me at my graduation party 11 months ago- I’ll never forget the night. At that moment I shone like a movie star. Allison rode shotgun and we drove up the coast blasting all of the terrible songs on the radio. After what seemed to be the best hours of my life we pulled into a car park and we sat on the hood of the car watching the waves hit against the California coast line.
“Of course.”
“Thanks so much Nance! I gotta go, but I’ll call ya later. Love ya!”
The hours of aimlessly wandering the house passed slowly. I spoke to my father who seems to be more just a soulless husk nowadays. I was yelled at by Mother for not sitting upright while I drank my tea and reminded that as a girl she was to wake up at 6am and do all her chores- I reminded her I didn’t care.
Finally it was 6pm and I don my favourite dress- my pink evening gown. For years I’ve waited to bedazzle people with this dress. I sit down at my vanity and slave away in an attempt to veil my imperfections.
I open my jewellery box and my mind is no longer empty as I’m flooded with memories of Allison and I. We have these matching charm necklaces, mine has a moon and Alison’s has a sun.
I had no words to describe how beautiful Allison looked that evening. The green of the dress contrasted with her ginger hair yet perfectly matched her eyes.
“Do I look okay?”
“You look absolutely stunning,” I rushed out to open the car door for her.
“Thank you, Nance.” she smiles, Jackson doesn’t want to spend the rest of his time on Earth in pursuit of a smile from her, but I would. She is as close to perfection as a human can be- I’m utterly convinced of it.
“Joanne spoke to me this afternoon. She was asking if I’d heard from you ”
“I didn’t call her back. Didn’t want to speak to her.”
“You know you’d like the Carltons if you’d only stop being so snobbish.”
“I am not snobbish.”
“You are so!” she giggled
“It’s only Jackson I hate, that’s no secret.”
“How could you hate jackie? He’s sweet.”
“He certainly is not.”
“Is too!”
I hum and shake my head, then check myself in the rearview mirror.
“Really, he knows I like horror novels so he bought me one for my birthday.” Allison paused “Well. he got me Dracula. Then said that I’d like it because the author is from the UK.” The author of Dracula is Irish- he’s from Dublin.
I raise my eyebrow at her
“...Maybe he doesn’t love me like I love him.” She sighs “Oh I am foolish! I was sure he was the one, It's as if I've been blind Nancy!”
“I’m in love with you, I am so in love with you and you alone Nancy Buford- lets run away and own a quaint B&B in the countryside!” I hoped those were the next words out of her mouth
“No one truly knows me!”
“Me! I know you! I’ve loved you since I learned what love was. I know you love white chrysanthemums, You have a pinch of salt on everything you eat, you love the beach but hate the sand- and I know that your favourite colour was blue but when I got this Chevrolet Impala in May of this year- a week after graduation- your favourite colour became pink!”
Silence.
“Did I say that out loud…?”
“Allison I… OH MY GOD!”
Speeding towards us was the ghostly white headlights of a car- I felt in my chest a horrific indescribable pain that stopped after a minute. The last thing I could think about was how sorry I was to Allison, and how it was likely I’d be sent into the loony bin if I survive the crash. The ambulance wailing sounded distant, too distant to reach me in time. Especially now that I stand alone in the eternal abyss.
good coffees I’ve had this year that make me happy to be alive. The Greeks know how to make incredible coffee, I recommend a fredo cappuccino to everyone.
Sky's tails
spans for light years across time and space. Unending. Ever changing. Two halves. Seeing the same result every day.
Sky’s tails
fresh like clean teeth, smooth as skin. Pebbles scattered shining like pearls in the midsummer’s glow.
Isn’t it just so poetic that the Marston Ranch house was a prefab house, it was never built to last.
Waiter waiter! More old sad man yaoi please!
the most fun a girl can have is finding parallels, noticing patterns, making connections, contemplating