[Poem] icy HUGH

icy Hugh

words and pictures by S. Zainab Williams

i see dead things all around,
from the blackened red stain on the frozen ground
to the campfire badge all charred and browned.

i see tires on the jagged stone row,
them frayed, ragged feathers like a broken crow,
the gutted parcels and the little pink bow.

i–i see rags ‘mongst the salt and rust,
about the glistening innards of a decayed sea bust
what cracked its belly open, paid the fathomless trust.

i see no one in the cooling beds,
here the presents stay wrapped; there white snow, motley red,
ho! deep troughs, not of sleds.

my dead eye sniffs them out
what my shorn tongue never will shout.

Once I saw
A moon maiden’s grove
Where the silvered oaks shimmered and no man would rove,
Where the stars swayed, bright flowers in the quake
Of fine-boned feet skimming, scattering the lake.
Toward me, toward me, ah the lovestruck fool
Wrapped warm and unaware in summered tulle.
She reached out her hands to beckon me in

then i saw the hook took my dazzled eye
oh i saw my tongue from its home she did pry.

i see dead things all around,
from the blue-black temple tween the mother crowned
to my own black hole where i make no sound.

New Flash Fiction! “The Creep”

(Psst! I’m not actually here because I already said goodbye for the next couple weeks in my last post, but if I was here, I would tell you to read this month’s flash fiction installment from my forthcoming graphic novel, Beatrice is Dead.)

The vicar’s son takes his role as guardian of his little sister’s morals very seriously. But when Rufus’s sister disappears from his life, he has to find new Lizzies to feed his insatiable hunger for punishment–a hunger that drives Rufus deep into the City of Ash.

This is the fifth flash fiction installment from the world of forthcoming graphic novel Beatrice is Dead.

[Update: We’ve removed the Final Hours stories from public view in anticipation of publication!]