Wow, that was a gut punch of a first sentence, Nathan. It is a grim part of the tale you tell, but you did forewarn us this was coming
However, in all this darkness there is still so much wonder here
“the great beast of hope, with all its faint futility, giving way to the horror of recognition”
This perfectly captures that fleeting hopeful moment in every traumatic incident before reality crushes it.
“The stars, in all their myriad constellations, would fall now to others, to be traced and tracked and looked upon in awe, their infinite worlds forever concealed from my view.”
Again, as with the other parts of this story, this reminds us of the secret language that people in love have, and how everything in this world or any other belongs to them and only to them such is the power of their feelings that control all else
Despite the dark turn this has taken, I will still be sorry when the story concludes. Your writing has been truly magical, telling this tale and is like nothing I have read before
I appreciate why you will need to take a step back when it is completed, but you should do so in pride knowing what a mesmerising tapestry of dreams you have woven. Outstanding
lol, of course…what a great way to start a new post in a serialized approach, I finally had a break to open it up and I read that first line and literally gasped! Awesome work, and glad I’m not the only one.
Nooooo! You killed her. And I was so hoping for a happy ending for this mysterious pair. Another excellent installment. I’m interested to see what happens now in the wake of Emmi’s death.
I suggest you resurrect her. If that approach was good enough for Conan Doyle. Alternatively, so what Superman stories sometimes did (you are gaining a glimpse into my literary influences): whenever he was killed there was a note at the end to say don't worry, this was an imaginary tale -- as though all the others were nonfiction 😂
I want to cry but also relish in the unseemly beauty of this chapter. You’ve brought death into the hands of radiant grandeur and it took my breath away.
“And there, on her body, in the naked patch above her ribs, no needle would prick flesh to imprint its design; instead, there flowered the unskilled tapestry of bruise, the artwork of burst capillaries that, in death, laid claim upon her skin.” Wow. Just wow.
How poetic death can be to be gazed upon by "the viridian expanse behind each limpid eye…" Arresting prose, my friend. As others have commented, we drink each word and thirst for more until we behold... The Sernox.
“The conjuration of biology that brought forth her life, that majesty of biochemistry allowing her being to exist, forming each curve and subtle glance, the rise of chest and shape of palm, the viridian expanse behind each limpid eye… it had been quenched.”
What a description of death and its finality and its utter and instantaneous annihilation of the many intricate subtleties of being alive, and the absolute miracle that is each of those intricacies!
…I knew it was coming so I put off reading but here we are and I’m sad to be losing her.
Wow! Nathan, what a stunning opening. I can’t believe she’s gone. I suppose, though, you did foreshadow this. I think your choice to start with no preamble, only certainty of an ending at once terrible and inevitable is an example of excellent craftsmanship.
Nathan, I had to wait to read this chapter until I felt ready to accept Emmi's death. I feel you did a great kindness to us readers by foreshadowing the tragedy from the start. And it's been fascinating to observe the story unfolding through you--revealing something of yourself in the characters--especially in the way this narrator spoke with poetic honesty, chapter by chapter. Well done! I'm looking forward to the final piece as you wrap up this work of Lyrical Sci-Fi... maybe in something soft and lovely? We shall see.
“Around me, the trees exhaled through needled limbs, the air brutal with the scent of death. The wind had left, the birds had fled. In the obsidian of night, there was only the lapping of the soil as it accepted, without hesitation, its nitid gift.”
The universe responds to Emmi’s
death . So brilliantly poignant .
Who is she that inspires the world to mourn at her feet?
“….the fabric of reality, sewn with countless lies, peeled back, revealing nothing but a crueller history beneath.”
You had me going back. Reading it all , over again.
Jesus, Nathan. I must have read and re-read that first line five times, totally agog. My brain stalled. I loved her. I wasn’t ready (even though I suppose you had gently tried to warn us in weeks past). Oh, Emmi. She and the Sernox will forever occupy the part of my consciousness that holds my deja vus and drug-induced visions. I like to think they’ll be happy there.
I love the way you put unexpected words together! Air brutal, soil lapping…fire of guilt, beast of hope… It creates imagery that is logical, not the mind but the heart.
You manage to give us so much in a small space, no doubt because of this rich language. I had to look up a couple words 😅 (which is great fun).
Emmi was right...was wrong -- I like the way you allow binaries to coexist (in other ways as well).
I think I can see parts of your multiplicity here. The scientist and the way this science can also be art and intrigue, can push the boundaries into the metaphysical. What do you think? Is that happening?
Enjoyed this, Nathan, and looking forward to the 'fin'!
Wow, that was a gut punch of a first sentence, Nathan. It is a grim part of the tale you tell, but you did forewarn us this was coming
However, in all this darkness there is still so much wonder here
“the great beast of hope, with all its faint futility, giving way to the horror of recognition”
This perfectly captures that fleeting hopeful moment in every traumatic incident before reality crushes it.
“The stars, in all their myriad constellations, would fall now to others, to be traced and tracked and looked upon in awe, their infinite worlds forever concealed from my view.”
Again, as with the other parts of this story, this reminds us of the secret language that people in love have, and how everything in this world or any other belongs to them and only to them such is the power of their feelings that control all else
Despite the dark turn this has taken, I will still be sorry when the story concludes. Your writing has been truly magical, telling this tale and is like nothing I have read before
I appreciate why you will need to take a step back when it is completed, but you should do so in pride knowing what a mesmerising tapestry of dreams you have woven. Outstanding
Thank you, Dan, that's really more than I could ever have asked or hoped for in terms of a reader enjoying these pieces.
I wasn't sure if the opening was too confronting and abrupt, but decided to run with my gut.
Now all that remains is a final piece that needs to be written...!
Not cool Nathan!
Oops, sorry Brian! I had no say in the matter (which is of course a lie...)
lol, of course…what a great way to start a new post in a serialized approach, I finally had a break to open it up and I read that first line and literally gasped! Awesome work, and glad I’m not the only one.
Thanks Brian. Appreciate you reading 🙏
Nooooo! You killed her. And I was so hoping for a happy ending for this mysterious pair. Another excellent installment. I’m interested to see what happens now in the wake of Emmi’s death.
Apologies, Ben. No happy ending here unfortunately 😞
Thanks for reading as always, my friend.
I suggest you resurrect her. If that approach was good enough for Conan Doyle. Alternatively, so what Superman stories sometimes did (you are gaining a glimpse into my literary influences): whenever he was killed there was a note at the end to say don't worry, this was an imaginary tale -- as though all the others were nonfiction 😂
Haha. Ok, if I can't work out the finale then I'll resort to this approach ;)
"haha" Nathan is the Sernox... 😘
He is indeed.
Oh noooooo!!! My heart!!!
I want to cry but also relish in the unseemly beauty of this chapter. You’ve brought death into the hands of radiant grandeur and it took my breath away.
“And there, on her body, in the naked patch above her ribs, no needle would prick flesh to imprint its design; instead, there flowered the unskilled tapestry of bruise, the artwork of burst capillaries that, in death, laid claim upon her skin.” Wow. Just wow.
🙏
Oh Kimberly, thank you for such generous words.
How poetic death can be to be gazed upon by "the viridian expanse behind each limpid eye…" Arresting prose, my friend. As others have commented, we drink each word and thirst for more until we behold... The Sernox.
Thanks Alexander. One to go, where words and worlds will tumble. (Or something.)
“The conjuration of biology that brought forth her life, that majesty of biochemistry allowing her being to exist, forming each curve and subtle glance, the rise of chest and shape of palm, the viridian expanse behind each limpid eye… it had been quenched.”
What a description of death and its finality and its utter and instantaneous annihilation of the many intricate subtleties of being alive, and the absolute miracle that is each of those intricacies!
…I knew it was coming so I put off reading but here we are and I’m sad to be losing her.
🙏
Thank you for reading, Stephanie. I so appreciate it.
Sorry once again.
And sorry (in advance) for the finale in Part 7 ...
🫣
Wow! Nathan, what a stunning opening. I can’t believe she’s gone. I suppose, though, you did foreshadow this. I think your choice to start with no preamble, only certainty of an ending at once terrible and inevitable is an example of excellent craftsmanship.
Thank you, Holly, that means a lot 🙏
The story truly is wonderful.
🙏
Nathan, I had to wait to read this chapter until I felt ready to accept Emmi's death. I feel you did a great kindness to us readers by foreshadowing the tragedy from the start. And it's been fascinating to observe the story unfolding through you--revealing something of yourself in the characters--especially in the way this narrator spoke with poetic honesty, chapter by chapter. Well done! I'm looking forward to the final piece as you wrap up this work of Lyrical Sci-Fi... maybe in something soft and lovely? We shall see.
Thanks so much, Ann. It moves me to know you anticipated and then held off on reading this one.
“Around me, the trees exhaled through needled limbs, the air brutal with the scent of death. The wind had left, the birds had fled. In the obsidian of night, there was only the lapping of the soil as it accepted, without hesitation, its nitid gift.”
The universe responds to Emmi’s
death . So brilliantly poignant .
Who is she that inspires the world to mourn at her feet?
“….the fabric of reality, sewn with countless lies, peeled back, revealing nothing but a crueller history beneath.”
You had me going back. Reading it all , over again.
I do believe I know. Or I don’t know .
Inhaled gasp…
I want it to end. I don’t want it to end.
I do believe you may know...
Hoping to have the conclusion out this week, if I can make it through the words and their desires for truth.
Thanks Lor, I so appreciate your thoughts.
Jesus, Nathan. I must have read and re-read that first line five times, totally agog. My brain stalled. I loved her. I wasn’t ready (even though I suppose you had gently tried to warn us in weeks past). Oh, Emmi. She and the Sernox will forever occupy the part of my consciousness that holds my deja vus and drug-induced visions. I like to think they’ll be happy there.
Keep her safe in that happy place!
One to go, where perhaps more agog-ness awaits...
I love the way you put unexpected words together! Air brutal, soil lapping…fire of guilt, beast of hope… It creates imagery that is logical, not the mind but the heart.
Thanks Renee. The combination of words are sometimes difficult to extract and place, but I'm glad their juxtaposition works for you.
For whatever reason, all this time I wanted to believe that Emmi was the Sernox and not its victim... RIP sweet flower... And now - revenge?
In many ways, she was. In many ways, she wasn't 😆
Hopefully things shall become somewhat clear (ish) in the finale!
Thanks for reading, Troy!
You manage to give us so much in a small space, no doubt because of this rich language. I had to look up a couple words 😅 (which is great fun).
Emmi was right...was wrong -- I like the way you allow binaries to coexist (in other ways as well).
I think I can see parts of your multiplicity here. The scientist and the way this science can also be art and intrigue, can push the boundaries into the metaphysical. What do you think? Is that happening?
Enjoyed this, Nathan, and looking forward to the 'fin'!
I think that's happening, yes ;)
Thanks for reading, Kate. I always value your thoughts!
I feel my Borges exposure has paid off if I've managed to make you reach for a dictionary! 😆
'... instead, there flowered the unskilled tapestry of bruise, the artwork of burst capillaries that, in death, laid claim upon her skin.'
This sentence made me groan -- in a very good way. Well done, Nathan, what a piece.
Thanks Peter! Appreciate you swinging by for a read.
If we cruise beneath the waves In reverie I hope you provide the aquatic plane.
Haha, I shall do my best.