Ticking Hearts – Part 3
I want to be an author.
My desire is greater than my tiredness, more than my depression, larger than my inattention.
I want to be an author more than I want to avoid criticism, more than I want to avoid the misguided savaging of internet trolls.
I want to wander far into the forests of the fandoms and carve out a space to call my own. I will build a house from the timber of their secluded forests, and cackle as I live within the clearing I have made. They try to deny me this space only because they themselves lack the courage or tenacity to make things.
My failures fuel me. My stumbles give me courage. Each rejection letter is another brick to build my hearth with, and each day I can write despite everything and anything than life or my body can do to me is another log for that fireplace.
I am more than my failings, more than my detractors, more than my bad days and my conditions.
I am forged in the blazing heat of a life of trial and tribulation. I am the tempered steel which remains.
I welcome the flames. All they do is make me stronger.
Ticking Hearts – Part 3
Archimedes sailed through the open window of Jehanne Le Paris’s table dominated closet-room above the shop of the Fishmonger who was definitely her adoptive father, despite the fact she made her call him ‘not-dad’.
The tiny brass bird clutched a brilliant sapphire ring in it’s beak as it drifted down for a landing.
The quiet tick of his gears and the beat of his wings was soon drowned out by Hanne’s squeal of delight. The ring was breathtaking, a deep azure stone set into a simple scroll-worked gold band. The gem was enormous, easily the size of her thumbnail.
“Oh Archimedes, thank you! That’s so beautiful!”
Archimedes basked in the praise as Hanne took the ring from his beak, attempting to fluff his nonexistent feathers and throwing out his tiny chest as she stroked his metal head.
She’d always wanted to wear beautiful jewelry. For as long as she could remember she’d longed for the jewels worn to show wealth and status. She had wished so desperately to be noticed, to have the status which should have been hers instead of the squalor and the pain which she’d inherited instead. It was this longing which drove her, always.
She had seen her father’s carriage driving from his manor in the city to Versailles. Seen him more than once, dressed in clothing better than any she would ever wear. He’d been welcomed into the palace of King Louis the 15th. Been to parties, balls, dances, and formal dinners. His work adorned the halls and walls of Versailles itself, and it was his automatons helping to clean the muck and the mire off the underbelly of Paris.
Hanne looked down at the tiny ring, heart racing as she studied it, rolling it this way and that as it caught the candlelight. It was hers. It was all hers. His recognition, his apology, and she would finally have a chance to shine as brilliantly as the glittering sapphire in her fingers.
A thought crept into her reverie, and her giddy happiness and her smile started to fade and a frown creased her smooth brow.
“Archimedes, where did you get this?”
Archimedes stopped puffing his tiny chest out, considering the question as it tilted its head and studied her.
“I found it in a jewelers shop across the river. It was the correct color and size, so I broke into the shop and brought it back to you.”
Hanne’s mouth slowly fell open, and she dropped the tiny ring onto the table. She looked down at it, closing her mouth and swallowing. She’d known deep down that he would have to do that, but the simple description drove home the reality of the situation.
Archimedes would do anything she asked.
Anything.
To be continued…
Ringfully,
Justin
