Heroes Never Die

loki_by_annikeandrews

Heroes Never Die (628 Words)

“Brother?”

Thor flinched. He knew that voice too well. He turned restlessly, trying to force it out of his head. But it was there, always there, in his heart.

“Thor…”

Thor’s elbow hit the TV tray. He cursed, throwing a plastic plate across the room.

“Get out!” he shouted. “Go away. Just leave me.”

He didn’t mean it. Not really. But he was tired and the pain was no easier. Loki, that cursed son of an ice giant. He saw him hanging from Thanos’s hand, fighting for air, for life. He heard his brother’s hoarse voice:

“You—will never be—a god.”

His death was too sudden. Thanos had thrown his body at Thor’s feet, so still and broken in a way that Loki was never broken, never finished. It was pretend. It had to be. Thor had bowed beside his brother, praying for some trick, some miracle.

No, Thanos was not a god. Neither were they.

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Amorphous

redflower

Amorphous

Summer’s lease   is short
But if he had         compared her
To a cloud             we’d know
It was true             for clouds
Somehow             are never
The same               but always
Changing               under
Under                    the eye
And                       yet
They are                 always
Just                         the same
As                           a
Song.

Ribbons in his Hair

wishing-tree

Ribbons in his Hair (161 Words)

Emily knew the minute she went around the corner that she was about to get an earful.

“It’s that time of the year again!” said the elf. He sat as if he’d been waiting for her, his hands clenched on tree bark and his green eyes seething petulant fire. “I’m never going to get the ribbons out of my hair!”

Emily glanced at the elf’s tree. The connection between him and the tree was still a mystery to her, but like most things about wild folk, she didn’t bother questioning it.

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It’s the Eyes

redflower

It’s the Eyes (99 Words)

There was no mistaking her pursed lips. It was always dangerous when she frowned at her own work. But for the last week, Annie hadn’t looked at her sketchbook any other way.

He asked what was the matter. It was an innocent question. He didn’t expect to be confronted with his own body.

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