My lips are riddled with cracks and hardened patches of skin, like flakes of mud in a dry riverbed, splintering with sparks of pain as I press them together, trying not to think about the raging thirst thickening my tongue and making it nearly impossible to swallow. My hunger, once torturous, has faded to insignificance compared to my thirst. The merciless sun has covered my body with blisters and dead, peeling skin, irritated by every movement. With every step my knees threaten to collapse, occasionally making good their threats at the worst possible moments.

{based on Ezekiel 16}

I was planning on sending off another round of publishing queries at the beginning of January, but held off since I didn't want to join a possible flood of emails that publishers might have just after the holidays (maybe it doesn't happen, but I didn't want to risk it!). Then Port Yonder Press re-opened submissions for all of February. They don't allow simultaneous submissions, so I have to submit to them and then wait to hear back before I can send off the next round. Anyhow. Below are various pitches and queries - please critique!

Drowning

Standing in a thunder storm
pelted by the angry drops,
wishing it would all stop
Staring at the dirty ground.

So alone in this world
Just me and my thoughts
So alone in this night
Just me and my dreams

The waters rising higher
My fears are all consuming
I’m left to start assuming
That my life is going to end

So hopeless on my feet
Just a drop, yet it cuts so deep
So tired of the dreary cycle
Just a day, yet it feels so long

Missing the Song

The dissonance of the stained,
soiled keys-
played over, again and again.
Chaotic notes are leaping-
alive from-
the wood and ivory.

The musician-
wanting order-
for his chaotic song.
Searching for sense-
lost in rhythm,
Regulation.

The chord that’s strummed echoes-
soft and sad;
dripping audible tears-
on the bound world around it.
Brushed away-
by rough, unfeeling hands.

The following is adapted from a series of discussions and thought experiments between myself and LKR.

Thought Experiment 1
Locate:
What if an alien took everyone from earth except you and one other person? You don't know who they are or where, but you are charged with finding them. If you succeed, everyone will be restored.
How would you go about survival and eventually locating and reaching the other person?

Thought Experiment 2
Friends:
What if everyone disappeared except you and your friends? Who would be left?

Everything is a dog on this one leash:
All things move, seeking to make themselves better off.
Hot, dense air rises to cool and dissipate.
Wind blows to restore balance to the sky
filled with millions of gaseous molecules
all stumbling over one another.

People move to find their own space,
or else leave theirs to join together.

(A/N) As I always say… “Every true “Narnian” will know and recognize C.S. Lewis’ words and phrases.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
It seemed as if time had stopped. We couldn’t help but just stare and stare at the Stone Table—it felt like something was keeping us from removing our eyes away from it.

Perhaps because it’s the Stone where Aslan will die on?

“I feel like I can stare at the Stone Tables forever,” said Susan breathlessly. “All those strange symbols and foreign writings on it gives me such a curious and trilling sensation!”

“Merry Christmas! Long Live the true King!” Father Christmas shouted back to us as his voice faded in the distance; echoing all around us.
We watched him until his sled, with him inside it start to diminish.
Suddenly, Lucy exclaimed, “Look, he left a sack on the floor! Why don’t we open it?”
We all knelt down in the slowly melting snow and took out its contents.
“Oh,” Susan gasped in delight.” it’s a tea set with some sugar and cream! How lovely!”
Meanwhile, Peter was showing his sword proudly to Mr. Beaver.

A/N: Every true "Narnian" will know which lines are adapted from C.S. Lewis’ book. I didn’t really re-read the book’s chapters I am covering today until after I wrote about them So, I just want to let you know that I wrote most of it from memory. (I imagined the hiding spot for the Beaver’s location.)