Helical Foundations and Doppelgängers; Fictio, Poetry, and AI Art Showcase

# Helical Foundations  thrown from the vortex to buttress the earth pursued by ravenous wolves into the deep belly of the lupine beast an aura sullied by avaricious clutches a mind rattled by lying lips pleasure enslaves the will blood-lines entwine her psyche split in two generational expansion achieved her duty is fulfilled yet still, she faces predatory eyes produce more or die trying her freedom and youth stolen so helices can split and twist forever through time the blood must flow the foundation must hold  # Excerpt from the Wisp*  As sometimes happens in a dream, the place and characters changed. She was far from complaining. The dark-haired boy had joined her. They sat on a low stone wall, under the shade of blossoming cherry tree. Pink petals drifted down. A bloom landed in her hair. He plucked the pink from her red-gold locks and held it to the blue sky. The single petal multiplied and darkened. The one cherry blossom became a full red rose. She smiled and took the flower. The dark-haired boy opened his mouth to speak but instead dissolved to mist. The rose petals dropped from the flower head and ignited before disintegrating to ash. Bara sat alone, clutching the dead and now empty bloom. There was a touch on her shoulder. Perhaps, he’d come back. She turned to look. The stone wall and cherry tree disappeared. Bara was again seated at the study carrel, her head in her arms. No dark-haired boy. Just a dream. But the tap … that had been real. Yes. There was a second and another spark of static. She lifted her head and looked for Amy. No one. Bara remembered a similar touch, in History class, and just like in History class, there’d been no one there, but someone had definitely touched her this time. She was certain. Then there it was—a bright light and a wisp of silvery white, wafting through the air like a long flowing scarf. The vision disappeared into the stacks, reappearing each time it passed between an aisle, moving incredibly fast. Bara jumped up and ran to where it had last been. She ran to the next row and the next and then retraced her steps. Nothing. The vision had disappeared. Just down from where she stood, a book stuck out from the shelf. It was in danger of falling to the floor. She went to return it to its proper place but pulled back and stared. The book was the Magician’s Nephew. Someone had come down into the stacks and moved it … and that someone now stood behind her, breathing thick floral-scented breath upon her neck. Bara spun around. Strawberry-blond hair streamed over a large black mouth, a mouth that had consumed its own face. The doppelgänger had returned. There was the thump of a book landing on the floor. *The Wisp in its entirety is available through Amazon and Kindle.