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[ Fanfiction Recommendations ] "They're beetle sweets," Harry says. "I bought them on the train. Try one." The beetle is huge in Ron's hand, as tall as his thumb and savage-looking. He brings it up to his face, and its feelers click ominously. "I don't think it wants me to." The beetle is the same color as Harry's eyes. Ron doesn't want Harry's eyes in his mouth. [ "Big" by HetreZ -South Park- ] When you're a kid, everything about South Park feels wrong, too thick and too steady. The school is solid, heavy bricks and a sturdy roof to keep off the snow. The grownups are solid, something you can run to with a problem or run away from punishment, but they're flat in color and dull in shape. It's the wrong kind of solid, Kyle thinks. There's a right kind, a solid pound of chocolate or a solid ball of snow. Not the solid gray of infirmary walls. [ "Zen" by Basingstoke -Due South- ] You sit at your new desk and look at your partner's, which has a familiar sort of organized anarchy. There are stacks of paper and file folders everywhere, along with a rubber duck and a half dozen small wooden carvings. You can't help yourself--you're a detective--you pick one up. It's a sled dog. It looks like a wolf, but it has a curled tail and it's in harness. The ears are tiny prickles under your thumb, the straps of the harness are simple line suggestions. The spiral of the tail is rough to the touch. It's exquisite. [ "Metamorphosis" by PenelopeZ -Harry Potter- ] The old guard can't see but he knows they're there. He rests his forehead against the glass and places his cane by the wall. At night, in blindness, it all comes undone. In the absence of what is real, he can fool himself and turn his illusion into his reality. He can imagine them looking at him, their eyes piercing through the glass. The milky light of the moon seeping around the edges of the room, illuminating their faces. Their chests, rising and falling. He can imagine how their bodies begin to move, coiling around the box as they try to break free, exile themselves from their glass coffin. |
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