a summer short story for my character Kahlo.. my challenge is to write these stories, free of gender pronouns.. Kahlo steps to different times and spaces when called, to bring about resolution..
“There, but for the grace of the gods, go I… Or, truer still, go we.”
Step number 783. The world of Pymgalia. War shredded the tiny planet. Once, the purple gaseous rings surrounding Pymgalia, had glittered vibrantly. Purple shadows had danced on its surface. Life had played between those shadows. It’s fae-like citizens, darting here and there had glittered too.
Now though, a thick film of defeat coats everything. It weighs down the wings of the Pymgalians. Everything and everyone sputters along, barely registering Kahlo’s magical presence.
“I am here,” Kahlo rustled into the atmosphere. Something small, round and fuzzy burst onto Kahlo’s peripheral vision. These wings didn’t sputter. They were a soft, translucent gray; with rainbow flecks, like those you see in pools of oil sometimes.
“You came!”, the Pymgalian squeaked at Kahlo. “I am Pym and I told them you would help us, I told them! The Counselors said…
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