This is just stunning, Nathan. The words weave and dance together magically to form this wonderfully written piece. There are many parts that stood out but I particularly liked :-
“If there is alchemy in the distillation of a single moment, it was to be found in those evenings around the lake. With Emmi, all time ceased. There was no sensation of moving, no past or future; there was only the immediacy of the present, the adjacent warmth of her skin.”
I think I said before that it feels like we are intruding on private moments and that’s very much the same here as you describe, what certainly reminded me, of the blush of first love when one person became your world and everything else was secondary.
And I think this next passage captures that cautious awakening when you are scared, and also not scared, to say those three words that mean so much:-
“Days shortened, nights encroached. The seasons exhaled their relief as winds couriered news of the next. The world moved, and I noticed where once I had not. I felt where once I was numb.”
Out of all your magical stories, this one is speaking to me the most on a personal level. Looking forward to see what dark turns it may take next with the arrival of The Sernox
This was stunning to read as a stand-alone piece as well as part of a wider pursuit, so evocative that I felt I was there. My initial thought reading that things will descend to darkness was fear of losing this beautiful glimpses, but I know it will be haunting and poetic too.
Thank you, Mya. I really hope not to disappoint. There is an inner crossroads in my mind for this, and I am yet to feel out which fork it needs to take.
As long as it feels right to you, it will work; I do appreciate the pressure, though, and as I would struggle making such a choice, I possibly would toy with the idea of developing both directions if that felt right-and time permitting!
Everything is so beautiful and poetic, my heart is crying in joy. :') I'm especially in awe of your first paragraphs, but everything is exquisite. The ending left me stunned and fearful. My only question is when will you start writing poems already?! :)
I'm so taken with this series, Nathan. It's naturalistic and yet otherworldly meditation. It's sensual and dreamlike how you unfurl each installment. I love that you don't know where it's coming from or where it's going. That, by definition makes it a ride for us readers.
I think the fact that you don’t quite know how to write your thoughts on this just adds to the mystique of this. It all feels so dreamlike, but mixed with a sense of deja vu--if that’s deliberate, it is very, very clever.
Also, “Then, later, as the last lusting rays glanced across her form, refracting the dew that condensed on her lips, she would sign the sun’s demise, calculating its descent, wondering on the stars as they claimed their turn.” is a sublime sentence. Sublime👌
I love that different people have different favourite passages. I think you always manage to pick out the ones that most caught my own eye when coming back to the words, perhaps with, yes, a sense of deja vu ;)
I soooooo look forward to these posts, Nathan. There's a lot going on here, and a lot in the absence, but I also enjoy this story simply for its play with prose. So intrigued to see where this goes!
Some favorites today:
"never sought with prescience how the sky deigned to speak to the land"
"If there is alchemy in the distillation of a single moment"
"to translocate my body alongside the orbit of the Earth, all until my feet, the ones whose soles refused the ground, found as always my way to her door"
Thank you Kate. I'm truly touched that you enjoy these so much and that the prose speaks to you.
These are honestly my favourite to write at the moment (though everything else comes a close second, fret not Jisa/Renn/Brae, I won't leave you). I won't lie, though ... It's emotionally depleting and mentally taxing to write these pieces 😆
So beautiful. I was going to cite a few passges but there are too many. As with some of your other pieces, this reminds me of a past girlfriend. You're compelling me to write about her
I’m so happy to have Emmi re-enter my consciousness! Such beauty and stillness in the way you describe her. And this, I want to memorize this: “”I feel the mountains,” she said, her eyes closed, each lid a shield of flesh for the jade hidden beneath. “I taste their history.” And I could believe that she did, that the mineral veins of millennia were elaborated upon her tongue.
Thank you so much Stephanie. There's a slight tonal shift from the first part, as things descend and spiral, and in part because I genuinely had no idea what I was writing when those first words of Part 1 slipped out, but I guess that's why I like this platform so much :)
Nathan, echoing the sentiments of others, it's worth reiterating that your writing transcends mere storytelling to become something akin to art in its form and impact.
Thanks for this section of the story Nathan. Absolutely love the line, "If there is alchemy in the distillation of a single moment, it was to be found in those evenings around the lake." This whole paragraph had a similar sensation that I get from the opening stanza of Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock: "Let us go then, you and I / When the evening is spread out against the sky / Like a patient etherized upon a table; / Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, / The muttering retreats." The idea of transmogrification of the night into emotional and physiological upheal, be it through transmutation of natural instincts into something akin to an urgency, a longing or love, or, as Eliot used it, a fluid intoxicated state, formed the first bookend of a rollercoaster ride of a paragraph--and if I think of Prufrock at the conclusion of Eliot's Poem, experiencing a sense of vapid incompleteness and lacking that comes at the end of your piece: "I love you, I tried to say. I already loved you. But these words never came. Instead it was the creature that came." Keep it up!
Thank you Brian. Really appreciate your thoughts. I love these additions here. I don't know that piece by Eliot, so thank you for sharing. I've just looked up the whole poem to read.
At last, the Sernox! I was beginning to think that Emmi was the Sernox, she's definitely some kind of mystical being - I suppose there's still a possibility of a transformation..... 👹
This is just stunning, Nathan. The words weave and dance together magically to form this wonderfully written piece. There are many parts that stood out but I particularly liked :-
“If there is alchemy in the distillation of a single moment, it was to be found in those evenings around the lake. With Emmi, all time ceased. There was no sensation of moving, no past or future; there was only the immediacy of the present, the adjacent warmth of her skin.”
I think I said before that it feels like we are intruding on private moments and that’s very much the same here as you describe, what certainly reminded me, of the blush of first love when one person became your world and everything else was secondary.
And I think this next passage captures that cautious awakening when you are scared, and also not scared, to say those three words that mean so much:-
“Days shortened, nights encroached. The seasons exhaled their relief as winds couriered news of the next. The world moved, and I noticed where once I had not. I felt where once I was numb.”
Out of all your magical stories, this one is speaking to me the most on a personal level. Looking forward to see what dark turns it may take next with the arrival of The Sernox
Brilliantly done 👍🏼🙏
Thanks so much, Dan. I'm touched that this moves you on a personal level.
It feels an emotional piece to write, but that's perhaps because of the mental toll of trying to get into the headspace to let these sentences form.
Things are going to descend to darkness, unfortunately ... 🌑
This was stunning to read as a stand-alone piece as well as part of a wider pursuit, so evocative that I felt I was there. My initial thought reading that things will descend to darkness was fear of losing this beautiful glimpses, but I know it will be haunting and poetic too.
Thank you, Mya. I really hope not to disappoint. There is an inner crossroads in my mind for this, and I am yet to feel out which fork it needs to take.
As long as it feels right to you, it will work; I do appreciate the pressure, though, and as I would struggle making such a choice, I possibly would toy with the idea of developing both directions if that felt right-and time permitting!
“If there is alchemy in the distillation of a single moment, it was to be found in those evenings around the lake.”
An artist who paints in oils, pallet in hand, brushes and knives to add color and texture.
A masterpiece in word.
Thank you, Lor. 🙏
I am completely enthralled. Your writing is pure literary prose, Nathan. I await the entrance of the Sernox with extreme prejudice.
Too kind, Jim, thank you.
I hope not to disappoint!!
Everything is so beautiful and poetic, my heart is crying in joy. :') I'm especially in awe of your first paragraphs, but everything is exquisite. The ending left me stunned and fearful. My only question is when will you start writing poems already?! :)
Hehe, you're too kind Nadia :)
I don't know ... maybe I already have? (I haven't!)
Aww. Well, I hope you do soon!
I'm so taken with this series, Nathan. It's naturalistic and yet otherworldly meditation. It's sensual and dreamlike how you unfurl each installment. I love that you don't know where it's coming from or where it's going. That, by definition makes it a ride for us readers.
Thanks, Ben. As I'm sure you've experienced, it's such a lovely thing to hear when readers are connecting with your words.
This piece has become deeply moving for me to write (though sometimes it feels like I'm hacking away at stone to find just a single correct word 😅).
I think the fact that you don’t quite know how to write your thoughts on this just adds to the mystique of this. It all feels so dreamlike, but mixed with a sense of deja vu--if that’s deliberate, it is very, very clever.
Also, “Then, later, as the last lusting rays glanced across her form, refracting the dew that condensed on her lips, she would sign the sun’s demise, calculating its descent, wondering on the stars as they claimed their turn.” is a sublime sentence. Sublime👌
Thank you Chloe 🙏
I love that different people have different favourite passages. I think you always manage to pick out the ones that most caught my own eye when coming back to the words, perhaps with, yes, a sense of deja vu ;)
Ha! Genius! I knew it ;)
😆😆
I soooooo look forward to these posts, Nathan. There's a lot going on here, and a lot in the absence, but I also enjoy this story simply for its play with prose. So intrigued to see where this goes!
Some favorites today:
"never sought with prescience how the sky deigned to speak to the land"
"If there is alchemy in the distillation of a single moment"
"to translocate my body alongside the orbit of the Earth, all until my feet, the ones whose soles refused the ground, found as always my way to her door"
Thank you Kate. I'm truly touched that you enjoy these so much and that the prose speaks to you.
These are honestly my favourite to write at the moment (though everything else comes a close second, fret not Jisa/Renn/Brae, I won't leave you). I won't lie, though ... It's emotionally depleting and mentally taxing to write these pieces 😆
Oh gosh, I feel this kind of depletion! I think it comes from the best writing, but it can be hard to function after 🤣 keep going 💪🏽
Don't worry, there's no risk of stopping ;)
So beautiful. I was going to cite a few passges but there are too many. As with some of your other pieces, this reminds me of a past girlfriend. You're compelling me to write about her
Thank you, Terry. Please do so, would love to read whatever it leads you to write!
I’m so happy to have Emmi re-enter my consciousness! Such beauty and stillness in the way you describe her. And this, I want to memorize this: “”I feel the mountains,” she said, her eyes closed, each lid a shield of flesh for the jade hidden beneath. “I taste their history.” And I could believe that she did, that the mineral veins of millennia were elaborated upon her tongue.
🤗 I'm so happy to have you here with Emmi, Kimberly.
I don't remember writing that sentence ... It's one that somehow appeared on the page, waiting for me when I came to edit the draft 😆
Hmmmm, Emmi did it!!!! 😂
😉 wouldn't surprise me.
Well I didn't realize till the end that this was a "part 4," but I loved it, and now I must go back to the beginning.
Thank you so much Stephanie. There's a slight tonal shift from the first part, as things descend and spiral, and in part because I genuinely had no idea what I was writing when those first words of Part 1 slipped out, but I guess that's why I like this platform so much :)
Oh interesting - looking forward to following the story!
Same here
DDAAAAMMMNNNNN!
Sorry, I think that sums it up better than anything I could actually say. Your fiction leaves me with feelings, not words.
Hehe, if I ever manage to get anything published then I'm putting that as a quote on the back of the cover ;)
Thanks so much Brian.
lol. I’ll vouch for it!
Mate if you have held back until this last year to get this good, then it was time well spent and worth the wait! Truly gifted bro
Ah thanks so much buddy, really appreciate it!
Nathan, echoing the sentiments of others, it's worth reiterating that your writing transcends mere storytelling to become something akin to art in its form and impact.
Thank you David, that's truly lovely to hear.
Thanks for this section of the story Nathan. Absolutely love the line, "If there is alchemy in the distillation of a single moment, it was to be found in those evenings around the lake." This whole paragraph had a similar sensation that I get from the opening stanza of Eliot's The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock: "Let us go then, you and I / When the evening is spread out against the sky / Like a patient etherized upon a table; / Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets, / The muttering retreats." The idea of transmogrification of the night into emotional and physiological upheal, be it through transmutation of natural instincts into something akin to an urgency, a longing or love, or, as Eliot used it, a fluid intoxicated state, formed the first bookend of a rollercoaster ride of a paragraph--and if I think of Prufrock at the conclusion of Eliot's Poem, experiencing a sense of vapid incompleteness and lacking that comes at the end of your piece: "I love you, I tried to say. I already loved you. But these words never came. Instead it was the creature that came." Keep it up!
Thank you Brian. Really appreciate your thoughts. I love these additions here. I don't know that piece by Eliot, so thank you for sharing. I've just looked up the whole poem to read.
Yes! I love the poetry here.
Thanks Holly!
At last, the Sernox! I was beginning to think that Emmi was the Sernox, she's definitely some kind of mystical being - I suppose there's still a possibility of a transformation..... 👹
😆 She's certainly something, at least to the protagonist...
Thanks for reading, Troy!