Official Lemurian Tavern
Authenticated by le Enchanteur
What is the Soul Food Cafe?
The Soul Food Cafe is an international group of writers and artists whose global mission is to promote writing and art-making as a daily practice through the use of interactive web-based technologies such as blogging and e-mail groups.
Joining Soul Food
If you are an intrigued visitor now wanting to join the Soul Food Experience, visit
the Soul Food Cafe for instructions. Or you may write the SFC owner and manager heatherblakey @ dailywriting.net .
Disclaimer-- Copyright
The opinions expressed by contributors to Taverna di Muse on this blog as well as on public domains outside this blog are not to be construed as an endorsement by Heather Blakey or Lori Gloyd. Material appearing on this site remains the property of individual artists and writers.
8 comments
Comments feed for this article
February 3, 2007 at 6:58 am
Heather Blakey
Knowing gives these words special meaning Djanne.
February 3, 2007 at 11:37 am
soulsister
She wondered when this storm would end and the sky lose all the dark black clouds that seemed to have hidden the light, and kept the woods, fields and copses barely visible behind a veil of watery curtains that fell teeming from a sombre sky. Nighttime had fallen months ago and the sun had forgotton to return. It was as if she had descended to the Underworld without warning. And yet the day before the storm had fallen everything had being so different……..
February 3, 2007 at 2:31 pm
lorigloyd
She had been in the real world then and had began her day waking to bright morning light filtering through lace curtains. Joy filled her heart. She was seeing Derek today! She had not seen him for quite a while, he being such a busy man (he had said this to her). She clutched the quilt under her chin and giggled, remembering their last meeting. Then she flung the bed covers off and jumped out of bed. “What to wear….” she thought as she surveyed the contents of her closet………
February 3, 2007 at 4:53 pm
faucon
He had much admired her cuirass with inset gems and spirals, but this hardly matched her fancy of a moonlit stroll though elfin shadows. Yet her caution required at least a mailed vest, and she had no footwear save those with sheath and spike. Oh, would that he had chosen to meet in the bower of the Abbey rather than ‘neath the crumbling fortress wall. She danced a trifle in the swirling silks that would have to await another day, and set the Girdle of Lantro back it its gilded box. He did not yet know that she was a Priestess of Glorlee – and might never learn if he failed a simple test.
February 4, 2007 at 6:52 pm
harpmoon
At once she heard the tinkling of bells light as faerie fanfare and she stood still, listening attentively. She knew that sound; longed for its touch upon her soul, knew that the cascading raindrops of vision would descend upon her. “Not now!” she whispered, touching the talisman at her throat; at the same time thrilling to the understanding of whom the songs belonged. She quickly donned her Priestess’ gown of audience so that nothing was revealed to those who must look upon her. In an instant she was transformed into her station of She Who Must Be, and of the respect she must grant to the bearer of the dancing music.
February 4, 2007 at 10:31 pm
quinncreative
. . .Aneis shook herself awake. Those dreams were back. And the music. As long as she had these dreams, she’d never be able to finish the whitepaper that was due at the end of the week. And if she didn’t, the only one who would be happy was Justin, that little backstabber who sat next to her in the cube farm. Him and his damn radio that he wouldn’t keep turned down. And the way he kept shooting rubber bands at her while she was trying to work. All because she had called him “Curious George” at staff meeting.
“He’ll go far,” Aneis said, getting up for a drink of water, “on the backs of others. What I’d give to have him out of the way.”
On her way to the bathroom, she looked out the window.
Still raining.
Glass in hand, she stared out the window at the lights of the city. Sometimes, she was sorry she left her homeland to come here. Suddenly overwhelmed with loneliness, she traced her name in the condensation on the window. It was so small against the pressure of the city that seemed to press in on her.
She sighed and went back to bed.
On the other side of the window, a tiny set of wings buzzed off the rain. The tiny creature looked up and saw the name “Siena” written on the glass.
“Hah! Found you, She Who Must Be! You can’t hide,” and as the tiny being lept on the window sill, her wings buzzed louder. . .
February 5, 2007 at 12:37 am
lorigloyd
Aneis blinked a number of times at the creature at the window. She knew she needed to have her medication adjusted. For weeks now, she had flitted back and forth between this world and Derek’s world, between business suits and silken gowns, cubicals and castles. Now this buzzing little creature at the window… where am I now? I’m not insane, I’m not! The creature continued to call to her “She Who Must Be! Let me in….” Aneis reached for the window. She had to know for sure– was she Aneis or Siena…….
February 5, 2007 at 10:53 am
traveller2006
She opened the window and a gust of wind accompanied by a shower of raindrops blew in and dumped the tiny winged creature unceremoniously on the floor.
She bent down and rested her hand on the the ground. The tiny creature immediately hauled itself up on to her outstretched palm, shook its wings and opened its mouth ….