Traffic

It was a matter of survival. In the city that borders earth and hell, los dos hermanos were at the edge of life, their dry throats coated with longing. They wanted the blood of roses. They wanted to get drunk off the blood and shoot it up their veins. But roses only grew in the gardens of those with a pure corazón and los dos hermanos cared only for themselves. One day, their hermana brought over two beautiful brown-petaled roses. She was traveling to visit a friend for a few days and feared the roses might be stolen on her journey. La hermana asked los dos hermanos to take good care of the roses. She loved them deeply. Soon after their hermana left, los dos hermanos, entranced by the beauty of the roses, took them to their rooms and drew their blood. And then they drank themselves high. Wanting to make a profit, los dos hermanos sold the blood of the brown-petaled roses to neighbors and friends. The beauty of the roses withstood the constant handling. The roses were afraid, but did not have the language, nor the strength, to protest. To protect themselves, the brown-petaled roses multiplied their thorns, but nobody noticed. The thorns would remember everything. When la hermana returned, los dos hermanos said not a word, the memories of their deeds hidden in the thorns.

The Devil’s Trumpet

A forest once hid a field of moon-colored Devil's Trumpets deep in its heart. A secret known only by the body of trees and their oldest friends, the nightingales. The forest knew the flowers harnessed powers as devastating as their beauty. Over time, the roots of the trees and the roots of the flowers began to bleed into each other like a promise. One night, a drunk man wandered into the forest. The nightingales did not see him. As he stumbled towards the heart of the forest, he saw a faint glow like a phantom. His fear could not stop him from drawing closer. And the closer he got, the stronger he felt. He realized it was not a phantom glow, but the glow of power, knowledge, and magic. Greed rose in him like a cry and out sprung a horn from between his eyes. As he reached for a blossom, his hands turned to claws. Still, the monster of his body carried on. He fell to his knees and tried to uproot a trumpet with his teeth. The trees shook in anger and the trumpets started to sing. From their song the Divine was birthed and took on the form of a winged wo-man. The wo-man clapped their wings and scattered the monster like stars.