austheke

the grey six o'clock sky

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islands

oneIt’s cold in her house and still she feels herself burning up. It’s in the unnatural skip of her heartbeats, in the restless race of her blood. Everything is on fire. She wants to run a hundred miles or sleep a hundred years. She wants to kiss someone, kill someone, wants to devour someone whole. In her head, words are twisted up in thoughts are twisted up in stuttering uncertainty. She is humming with confusion; she can hardly speak. twoThe brightness of the day comes as a shock to her--when she steps out of the coffeeshop she walks into the sun and marvels at the strange flow of time. It's only much later that she startles

All

40 deviations

Literature

islands

Featured

26 deviations

Literature

fairytales

"Mira, if you don't open this door this instant, I'm going to break through your window." "Peter, I'm reading." "Tell me something I don't know. I'm serious. Open the door. We're going out. As in outside. As in into the real world." "I can't. I'm just getting—" "To the good part. I know. And I don't really care right now. For the last time, open the door." "No, Peter! I'm sick of you telling me what to do." "You're being unfair, and we both know it. There's only one thing I ever tell you to do and you ignore me anyways, so it's irrelevant." "I reserve the right to make my own judgments. I'm an adult." "No, you're not. You're like

Features

31 deviations

Literature

EPIC: fifty scenes project

EPIC: wherein Robin and Matthew (fantasy buffs, mortal enemies, and sudden heroes) embark on a quest that inverts, averts, subverts, deconstructs, and generally wreaks havoc on the many tropes and cliches of fantasy fiction. number 2 prompt kiss word count 337 Robin closed the door against the groaning protest of its warped frame and came to stand over the foot of the bed. “I don’t think we can trust them,” she said, crossing her arms tightly. Clearly, Matthew had never heard that keeping eye contact when speaking was polite, since he ignored her attempt to meet his eye and flopped backward onto the bed. “Judging by

Epic

9 deviations

The Silver City

4 deviations

rain, california, and other unlikely pairs

Photography

6 deviations

Literature

summer skin

it is sixty-four degrees; it is autumn, and the time for dreaming of love is over. it is time for regina, it is time for writing, it is time for coffee and rain. it is time for soccer, and time for sweaters, and it is time at last for happiness. my life begins at sixty-four degrees.

Poetry

2 deviations

Literature

EPIC: damsels, dragons, daring deeds

EPIC: a tale of damsels, dragons, and daring deeds Plucky orphans. Noble kings. Dragons. Dwarves. Damsels and (in the interest of equal opportunity*) knights in distress. Warlocks in general. Magic, white and black and all the color in between. Prophecies. Unlikely triumphs. Saving everybody. This is pulp fantasy. This is Epic. In a fantasy world eerily similar to every one they've ever read about, plucky orphans heroes Robin and Matthew are catapulted straight into the heart of intrigue. Their adventure pits them against trite obstacles and stock characters until they're forced into the usual confrontation with the typically villainous an

Scraps

3 deviations

islands by austheke, literature

Literature

islands

EPIC: fifty scenes project by austheke, literature

Literature

EPIC: fifty scenes project

something as little by austheke, literature

Literature

something as little

"Do you sometimes think about humans and hurt," she says. She's rummaging in a crate on the cold floor of her garage, and her face is hidden. You shift to let the afternoon light shine on the golden wave of her hair. "Because I do," she goes on, before you can admit that you have no answer. Small objects fall from the crate and cascade to the floor with a clatter. "I do." Her words hang heavy between you, alone and uncomfortable in the summer air, and your tongue stumbles in the strangeness of the moment and spits out, "Why?" She bundles the long strands of her hair into a fist and straightens, her hands otherwise empty. "Humans are so fra

EPIC: in which it all begins by austheke, literature

Literature

EPIC: in which it all begins

Robin woke to a cough of static, followed by the familiar screeching of her alarm clock. She slammed a hand on the snooze button and fell back onto the pillow, eyes screwed shut. Like elusive fish, the last dreaming glimpses of the glow of sun on metal and leaves vanished into an ordinary sort of utter distaste for Monday mornings. Levering herself from the bed, Robin dragged herself to her closet and pulled on jeans and a shirt, doing up the buttons with clumsy hands. She snagged her school backpack, huffing slightly at the weight, and then plodded down the stairs thinking ponderously about hot oatmeal and fresh coffee. She was shaking cof

EPIC: in which Robin makes new friends by austheke, literature

Literature

EPIC: in which Robin makes new friends

With growing horror, Robin realized that the approaching din was the sound of cracked branches and broken shrubs—in other words, the sound of a massive thing crashing through the brush. Swiftly, she considered her options, all of which were very limited and invariably resulted in her messy, unpleasant death. Before she'd come to a conclusion, the thing hurtled into the clearing behind her and she spun, stumbling back a step in sheer horror. Then she blinked. The thing was an apparently normal young man, covered in leaves and dirt and not quite as large or carnivorous as the crashing had suggested. Robin's vital functions stopped panick

if we are to die tonight: Endgame quickwrite by austheke, literature

Literature

if we are to die tonight: Endgame quickwrite

She sleeps with the gun in the crook of her arm, clutched as close as a lover. She wants to leave it but can't bear to, because the only thing she dreams about now is an attack in the night. She can see it, almost taste it, with awful clarity. The way the night air feels on cold skin. The way the glow cubes have faded, casting shifting, obscuring shadows. The way his face looks when he hears their approach in the dark, too close and too fast for any escape. She has memorized the sound of his voice as he shouts. "Get out," he says, leaping to his feet. "Go!" She sees him set his weapon to his shoulder as if time has slowed. The motion takes

lie to me. by austheke, literature

Literature

lie to me.

I am the way a child knows without being told that her father will never return home. (I am the reason why the fatal moment strikes her—she is too young to understand what the hurt means but old enough to feel it.) I am the way a husband's heart stops when his wife takes her last breath. (I am the reason why their hearts beat in tandem, why his arrests along with hers.) I am the way you felt when your brother died, in a cold hospital bed too many miles away from you. (I am the reason why your heart broke when you realized that your bones and marrow and prayer did not save him.) I am nothing like death. Death wants nothing to do wi

fairytales by austheke, literature

Literature

fairytales

fairgrounds by austheke, literature

Literature

fairgrounds

We make our farewells at the fairground, and the ferriswheel spin of our days and nights grinds to a cold and silent halt. But, you promise, we will have one last ride. One last day to ourselves. One last day to remember. And in the crushing golden haze of summer's dying days, we leave our regrets with the sullen ticket sellers, the sullen customers, the sullen children squirming in the heat. We laugh past them like the summer breeze and pretend to be happier than they could ever be. We enter the raw cacophony of it together. Our brightly pasted smiles belong instantly, wholly, to the savage relentless pursuit of amusement that ebbs around

EPIC: they anger a sparrow by austheke, literature

Literature

EPIC: they anger a sparrow

"Wait," he said. She hadn't expected that. "What—what's your name?" he asked. He looked like he hated to even say it, but there was no mistaking the expression in his eyes. It matched the one Robin felt was in her own: hunted. (Also hungry. Robin was not used to missing breakfast, and her stomach was complaining unhappily. But mostly hunted.) Feeling more kindly towards him, she said, "Robin." He gave her the barest of nods, and his gaze lingered on her for just a moment. "Okay," he said. Then he turned and began to walk away. There was a beat before Robin fully registered this. "Hang on just a minute there," she burst out, grabbing

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