STEAMPUNK / DYSTOPIAN / NaNoWriMo 2022

Only the fireflies know the tales.

Storms on the costal farms are quiet and soft but no less deadly, and dark than the gulf between us. Where are you Ezra? Why aren’t you here?

Riders of the Storm

Pippa had worn her uniform to the festival. Hoping to stick out among the dozen young women in their white flowing dresses. Boys lined the street as they paraded by. They would be bonded today. Pippa had no such expectation. But perhaps, if she looked carefully among the crowd, she would find Ezra.

Often the two had watched from the windows. Silently, she would sit closer to him, trying to let him know she was there. But Ezra was often in pain and inconsolable. She would have stayed, cared for him. But that was not to be.

It had been three days since she’d arrived. Surely by now he would have heard. He was mad at her, or worse, no longer cared. This was her chance to be seen and to see, everyone would be here.