Elements: Five Fantasy Short Stories
By Linda Jordan
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About this ebook
Five stories about magic, love and the four elements: earth, air, fire and water.
Mythical creatures walk our world. A belly dancer plays with fire and smoke. The connection between humans and Faerie is tangled again and again as love has its way.
This collection includes: A Breath from Elsewhere, Flight, Smoke & Fire, Sea of Loneliness and Crossing the Divide.
Readers who love to escape into other worlds need to read these stories. Step away from our own reality for a time.
Linda Jordan
Linda Jordan writes fascinating characters, visionary worlds, and imaginative fiction. She creates both long and short fiction, serious and silly. She believes in the power of healing and transformation, and many of her stories follow those themes.In a previous lifetime, Linda coordinated the Clarion West Writers’ Workshop as well as the Reading Series. She spent four years as Chair of the Board of Directors during Clarion West’s formative period. She’s also worked as a travel agent, a baker, and a pond plant/fish sales person, you know, the sort of things one does as a writer.Currently, she’s the Programming Director for the Writers Cooperative of the Pacific Northwest.Linda now lives in the rainy wilds of Washington state with her husband, daughter, four cats, a cluster of Koi and an infinite number of slugs and snails.
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Elements - Linda Jordan
Elements
Five Fantasy Stories
Linda Jordan
Metamorphosis Press
Copyright© 2011 by Linda Jordan
Published by Metamorphosis Press
Contents
Introduction
A Breath from Elsewhere
Flight
Smoke & Fire
Sea of Loneliness
Crossing the Divide
About the Author
Introduction
I’ve always been fascinated by archetypes and elements. Earth, air, fire and water. Some belief systems have a fifth element - spirit or mystery. The Chinese add wood to the mix. I don’t claim to have a comprehensive understanding of Eastern Philosophies, so I’m using Western Belief Systems as the basis for these fantasies. All of these stories carry more than one element, but to me, most of them represent one main archetype.
A Breath from Elsewhere sprung up from the title. After the title appeared in my brain, I wondered where elsewhere might be. It was written at the beginning of our rainy and cloudy summer after a fall, winter and spring of record rainfall. I felt underwater and I’m thinking the story reflects that, even though for me it’s an earth story.
Flight is a story I wrote years ago and changed it to suit other folks tastes. It never sold. I rewrote it again years ago, but never sent it out. I recently revised it returning it closer to the original form. Which for me, is what the story wants to be. It came from a dream I had long ago, one of those gifts the universe gives me. It holds the place of air in this collection.
Smoke & Fire came from my need to come up with something about fire. For too brief a time, I took Middle Eastern Dance Classes from a brilliant teacher. She taught me so much and I’ve been fascinated with belly dancing ever since. This is my fire story.
Sea of Loneliness grew from the cover photo I used for the story. I spotted the photo and immediately wanted to write a story about the character and about selkies. I’ve always loved selkie stories but wanted to do a slight twist on one. This, of course, is my water story.
Crossing the Divide also grew from the cover photo. I fell in love with the artwork and thought it needed a story. I also thought I’d write one with a male viewpoint story for the collection. This story combines all the elements.
I’ve loved writing these stories. The past few years I’ve been concentrating on novels and to write short fiction again has been liberating. Dipping into very different worlds has been a mind expanding treat. I hope you enjoy these stories and there will be more to come.
A Breath from Elsewhere
I hated winter. And today was only the first day. I rushed through the downpour, my raincoat trapping in too much heat. Unzipping it, my face felt flushed. The streets filled with crowds in the dusky light. I pulled out my phone to check the time. Only 4:15 in the afternoon.
I ran for the bus, an express which would get me home on time, the doors slapped shut and it pulled away. I’d missed it by half a block. Damn. Stomping my foot, only succeeded in splashing cold water up my pant's legs. Still, I stomped again, wishing I had a life. The universe didn’t seem to feel I needed one. I disagreed.
I plunked down on the empty bench inside the bus stop, by the Pergola, pushing the dripping hair out of my eyes. Taking deep breaths, I tried to come up with a viable option. Going on a blind date in my sweaty clothes and heavy, field boots, wasn’t one of them. I’d had a rare on-site visit today and was covered with mud. Buying new clothes and going straight to the restaurant? No, too broke. Taking the next bus home, changing and then driving to the restaurant, getting there late? No, he’d think I stood him up and would already have left. Going a couple streets over, grabbing the #43 bus and walking a few blocks farther on the other end? No guarantee that would give me any more time. It might even be worse.
Why the hell had my boss chosen this afternoon to have another pain in the ass staff meeting which, of course, ran overtime? It must be a plot so I’d never have a chance at having anything resembling a real life. Or a love life. I already worked sixty hours a week, wasn’t that enough? Maybe it was time to start my own landscaping business, instead of working for somebody else. It would pay a lot less, but I just wanted to make beautiful gardens. And have time for a lover. And friends. When was the last time I saw my friends? Did I even have any left?
A stocky, middle-aged, bald man carrying an umbrella and wearing a striped purple and red coat walked past me. At first I didn't realize what was peculiar about him. It was raining beneath his umbrella. I shook my head, thinking maybe I was just tired and seeing things. When I looked for him again, he had vanished into the crowds.
Sighing, I pulled out my phone again and scrolled down to find the contact info for my date. The call went to voicemail. I left a message, explaining my problem, telling him I’d head for home and change and to call if that didn’t work. I didn't want it to seem like I was trying to get out of a blind date before we even met.
People ran past, some with umbrellas, some with newspapers over their heads, some bravely facing the downpour. The deluge only got worse. Rain no longer went down the street drains, water puddled everywhere, changing streets into small lakes. It had rained for a record forty-four days straight so far. There was no sign it would ever stop.
My sweat had turned cold and I zipped my raincoat again. The constant showers didn’t seem to affect the Christmas shoppers. Pioneer Square was lit up, bright and cheery, in a gray, drizzly sort of way, filled with people carrying shopping bags and trying to get home at rush hour. Restaurants and bars looked packed.
A few feet away, a man leaned against one of the larger street trees. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be enjoying the rain pouring down his face. He looked as if he belonged somewhere else, not in the middle of a city, maybe in the