In the dusk garden, spider webs drape a wooden sign that reads Lily.
The numbers so far…
Midnight bleeds into sighing tendrils. Fronds unfurl and trace the letters that have been carved into the wooden sign. Stars blink overhead and provide temporary glimmers of light.
It’s okay. You’ve found the right place. The only place. You follow the path.
A whir and a click draws you forward as velvet leaves give way. Cogs are grinding deep in Lily’s playground.
A gentle brush along your cheek, and the air changes.
Low-hanging fruit ripen with desire, and you pluck one out of the charged air, and everything’s okay. Sugar and spice. Wicked and nice.
Where does a creative mind go? A journey through a jungle. A forked path between the fir tree. A serpent smiles as lizards wink in the darkness.
You already know the answer. You’ve always known. You take in all the scents and whisper the answer.
The moon listens to your secrets. The moon understands.
As you push on, you find a metal plate peeking behind a giant purple orchid. You push the petal aside. There’s big red button. You dare press it? Of course you do.
It’s safe in Lily Blaze’s playground.
Vines slips around your hand. You look. A download lays in your palm, and it’s yours.
One by one, art pieces slide down the trunk of a palm tree. Beads of sweat drip from your temples. You take your time admiring the art, then look around.
You have questions. Lily Blaze listens.
What else can you do in this otherworldly garden rife with stories yearning to be told? Anything you want.
One woman multimedia show.
Lily Blaze Screenwriter is also…
Dark Fiction Reviews