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Excerpt

In the very beginning, who can say what was? Before the world was, I have no wisdom to know. When the world came into being, I know it was dry and sandy, and the hot, white sun beat down from the sky. There was no sound but the wind.

Into the world came Garni-kahn, the Bargainer. Only the dust saw him, for nothing existed but dust, sand, and sky. Dust-motes danced about him as he walked. Garni-kahn grew bored with the world as it was, and opened his magic pack-sack. Out of it he pulled a brass goblet trimmed with sapphires. “Drink, and be satisfied,” said he, and poured the goblet onto the sand. A torrent of water poured from the goblet and filled up the thirsty sand.

For a hundred days, Garni-kahn held the goblet to the desert’s lips, and for a hundred days it drank. Seas sprang up, and the land grew rich and moist. Finally, on the hundredth day, Garni-kahn tipped up the goblet once again. The earth, desert no more, sighed with contentment. The little dust-motes laughed merrily and cheered at the fine magic. Being only dust-motes, they had never seen such a wonder, and they were richer for it. Garni-kahn bowed and smiled at them. Soon, all the motes of dust were playing by the water, riding the fine new winds blowing there.

Garni-kahn stepped back to see the world more clearly. It was brown now, and sweet-smelling, but was still dreadfully flat and empty of features. Once more, Garni-kahn reached into his sack and brought forth a white dog. “Play,” he commanded it. When he set the dog down on the ground, it made a terrible commotion. It rolled about in the dry, dusty spots, dug in the moist, and scrabbled up rocks from beneath the earth to play with. For fifty days, the dog rolled and tumbled. On the fiftieth day, Garni-kahn whistled, and the dog ran back. Where he had played, now there were rivers, mountains, hillocks, boulders, deserts, canyons and plains. The earth beheld its new face and rumbled with joy.

Bio

Fran Stewart collected her degree in clinical psychology and immediately became a software engineer on a popular office suite, so that she could write for video games. Life is strange sometimes. She does, now, in fact, write for video games. She wants to write better and more, and to someday have her name closer to the beginning of the credits.

Writing Description

Often comedic, typically emotional, tending toward purple. Her stories float on tides of metaphors and similes like little boats made of words, or something else that floats.

Writing Goals

To improve my willpower and concentration. To refine my writing. To increase my speed and output. To finish more stories.

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