#queer new year

[commiepinkofag]

Cheers to an even GAYER Year!

[inkweavers]

A letter

You’d think you would get used to being kicked out of the kitchen whenever Thanksgiving rolled around. “Accalia, come on let me help.”

“You fucking basted the turkey in a mint butter egg wash three years ago. You’re not getting back in here for at least a decade Maria.” My spouse glowered and pointed the knife at my throat.

“Babe, you know I don’t mind sharp things around my throat,” My eyes fixed on the knife. “I'd really rather your fangs be the only thing piercing my throat. Or Sophia's.” I held up my hands and backed away. Who am to argue with my wife?

“You know your blood wouldn’t go to waste with me around, even if Sophia’s away for a bit.” She turned back to the kitchen to roughly chop an onion. “Why don’t you break out that typewriter and write to someone?”

“Oh, like who? I don’t have thralls like you or Sophia do.”

“What about that barista in Cap Hill?”

I bit back a comment. She was nice, but when she found out about my immortality. Well, she didn’t slap me. Just ghosted me. “Yeah, sure.” Still, I vanished into my study with the typewriter. Who knows, maybe inspiration would hit me.

Fifteen minutes later with a blank sheet of paper staring me back, I had nothing. No inspiration, no ridiculous shower thought, not even a haiku. “Oh for fucks sake, why can’t I write?” My head hit the table with a thud. I looked up at the venerable typewriter and saw etched into it’s body.

“To my beloved friend Maria, love Liz.”

It took a moment to ease the tension out of me. Inspiration had found me.

Elizabeth,

I hope this letter finds you in good health.

I know it’s been more than a decade since we’ve talked.

I stopped. “Do I really want to do this?” My fingers continued.

And I would understand if this is out of the blue and unwelcome but I just hope you’re well.

I stopped again. The thought hung heavy in the air. ‘Should I ask if we should meet?’ I shrugged, and kept typing.

Maybe we should catch up some time, if you want.

-Maria.

I locked eyes with the letter. It’s mere existence challenged me. Still, a part of me missed her. A part wanted something akin to closure with her. With a breath, I pulled it from the spool. Addressed an envelope, and sealed it with wax. “I’ll mail this off tomorrow.”

A Week later

“Maria!” Sophia’s voice woke me from my sleep.

“I’mup.” I sat up and looked about. “What’s with the noise?”

Sophia pressed a letter into my face. “You have a letter from Elizabeth.”

“Well shit.” I mumbled.

---

Hey there Tumblr, my name is F. Zoe Blackheart, and I hope you enjoyed reading this.

This is a short bit of promo writing for a story that I am getting published in "Queer for the New Year". It's an anthology and my story "All the Time in the World" is following Maria as she faces the consequences of her actions.

If you click on the title that will take you to the store so you can pre-order the anthology in the US. That said, Balance of Seven is working with Sapphic Sweets to ship internationally here so you're not going to be left out either.

I want to also say that I'm glad Balance of Seven is out here helping normalize queer media by being a queer publishing company and it has been an absolute delight to work with them.

[lalia-chezo]

I’m having a lovely dinner with Cate, Bella, and Shelby. Even more so because the redneck sitting next to me at this hibachi grill is having a love affair with trying to figure all of us out. A femme, and three dykes. I’m glad we’re making him think. Any discomfort is his own damn problem.