Genre: Fantasy
About inkspotfever
Location: Napoli, Italia
Home Region:
Europe :: Italy
Website: http://lappingwaves.blogspot.com/
Favorite writers: Michelle Tea, Ursula K. Le Guin, Vonnegut, Lewis Carroll, L'Engle, too many
Favorite music: depends on the pacing of the scene
Non-noveling interests: Photography, reading, hiking, traveling, cooking, wine, food, sleep, life and love
Joined date: Oktober 22, 2007
NaNoWriMo posts: 6
NaNoWriMo buddies: 13
There is no there: Fire and Blood
an excerpt
Murin gasped as her stomach clenched. She rubbed her stomach to try to soothe the ache. Mother must have used too much grease this morning, she thought.
She knelt in front of the tomatoes and reached out her fingers to break the stem laden with fruit. But the burning in her stomach would not be ignored. Murin scoffed.
“I've never had indigestion. This is a malady for the old.” She was silenced by her diaphragm contracting violently. The hiccup sped through her esophagus, burning all the way up, and erupted from her mouth. Murin's eyes widen at the sight of what came out. She couldn’t stop staring and lost her balance from concentrating on the tomato plant for so long.
Her knee joints quaked as if she hadn't eaten for week.
"This is impossible," Murin said out loud, her voice shaking.
The plant in front of her was smoldering. The tomatoes closest to her had burst from the sudden heat and the brilliant green stems were now charred and brittle. Whatever had been going on in Murin's stomach was more than indigestion, for the fire had come from her mouth.
Slowly the adrenaline rushing through her system dissipated and instead of observing the situation from a singular point of shock, Murin leaned closer to the plant and began inspecting it in detail. She ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth and pressed her hands her stomach, trying to feel the place where the fire had come from. The silky lining of her mouth was wet and moist as it should be and there was no evidence of blisters, no pain from any wound inside her mouth.
"I just breathed fire," Murin said quietly. A bird squawking in one of the apricot trees distracted her from the charred plant. She looked up at it and noted that the sun was nearly overhead. It was close to lunchtime. Murin stamped out what ever was still burning and broke off the burnt pieces. She looked around quickly and when she was convinced she was alone, she went to the compost heap that the family kept and buried the blackened tomato plant there where she was sure no one could find it.


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