Author Archives: Kat Myrman

The Castle of Souls

Illustration by Ivan Bilibin

“Who goes there?” Sparrow called to the darkness, as she walked the perimeter of the Castle of Souls.

Sparrow was a demigoddess sent to the earth realm to guard the castle and to spare undue calamity to human-kind by keeping the living outside the gate and “others” inside.

The Castle of Souls, or Purgatory as some call it, has existed since the beginning of time. It is nestled in the remote forests of Death Valley near the steep, rocky banks of the raging River of No Return and, most notably, features a sprawling garden of souls that glow eerily from skulls on bone posts where they reside until they are granted passage to heaven. It is certain death for any human unfortunate enough to witness such a sight, which is why Sparrow was so vigilant this dark, chilly night. 

She heard another sound echoing from the rocks near the river’s edge. “Hello! I know you are there. Identify yourself!” she demanded sternly.

“I’m lost,” a young voice cried from the blackness. “I’m lost an’ I’m hungry an’ I want my Mama, but she fell into the water when our boat tipped over and she never came out. I’ve been waitin’ and waitin’ but she never came…” the voice grew louder and clearer as a child with wild golden hair, shivering, wet from the river, wearing torn clothing that clung to her like skin, emerged into the light.

“Please don’t come any closer, child,” Sparrow pleaded, “I cannot help you. This is no place for a child to be. Follow the river this way,” she instructed, as she pointed down river, “soon enough you will find yourself in the village. Now run along.”

“But I’m cold and I’m tired. It’s dark. Can’t I just stay here with you?”

Sparrow took pity on the child and granted her wish, but only until morning, and only outside the wall of the castle grounds. She made a soft bed of leaves and wild flowers for the child and kept watch from the other side of the gate to make sure the girl didn’t wander inside.

Dawn of day is the time when souls arrive from death to the castle. It is a necessary cleansing of the veil between time and eternity. The presence of too many souls wandering the earth always creates chaos for the living. 

When the souls arrived, floating through the gate, looking very much like fog, many paused to gaze fondly at the sleeping child.  One soul lingered longer than most. Sparrow watched as it hovered over the child. She grew increasingly impatient with the soul, until she realized that it was the child’s mother. 

The allotted time for soul receiving was ending as the sun inched above the horizon. Sparrow urged the mother soul to come inside, but she refused to leave the child. If she didn’t close the gate soon, Sparrow risked a mutiny of the other souls in her keeping, so she made a deal with the mother.

“I see that you love this child more than eternity,” Sparrow said, “so I will grant you three days, and three days only, to stay with the child until she finds her way to the safety of the village. It’s a two day’s walk from here. Remember, three days only and you must return.” Then Sparrow closed the gate.

The booming noise from the shuttering iron gate startled the child awake. She remembered Sparrows’s instructions and set off down river. 

Her mother’s soul followed closely behind. She soon discovered that she could communicate with the child by sending a flutter of wind moving leaves to reveal bunches of tasty berries or by rustling shrubbery to redirect the child if she set off in the wrong direction. 

They traveled along the rocky shore of the River of No Return and through the canyons and salt flats of Death Valley until at long last a village came into view. The child’s pace sped up when she noticed people in the town square. A kind woman with several children of her own noticed the girl and took her in. The mother watched from afar a day longer to make sure the girl was safe and then, as she had promised, returned to enter the castle garden on the third day.

Sparrow noticed something different about the mother soul when she returned. She glowed warmer, brighter than the other souls. And one other thing; she did not wail and moan, which was a common practice that made the garden a miserable place to be. 

Sparrow was so inspired by the peaceful presence of the mother soul, that she declared that all souls would henceforth be granted three days to make their peace with life and the living before entering the the Castle of Souls.

You may have heard that the souls of the recently deceased linger three days, wandering amongst, and making their peace with the living before moving on. It was not always so. Now you know the story of how it came to be that when someone you love dies, you feel their presence ever so near, because my dears, they are!

~kat – 2 March 2017

A strange tale for Jane Dougherty’s Sunday Strange Microfiction Challenge inspired by the painting above by Ivan Bilibin, a Russian illustrator.


Mission Accomplished – A Three Line Tale

tltweek57

Photo by Fleur Treurniet via Unsplash

Mission Accomplished!

Agent  Jones, boarded a flight to the remote island, with alias credentials in tow and strict orders to remain under cover at the local inn until she received a green light from command.

On the morning of the mission, an alert pinged from her laptop providing a detailed map that showed where she would find her mark, as well as instructions to wear the disguise that had been waiting for her in her room.

The costume, though it made her chuckle, was brilliant as it turned out, and the secret weapon that guaranteed the mission’s success because it allowed Agent Jones, aka “Unicorn”, to slip anonymously through the crowds of the festival to the abandoned storeroom where she found the kidnapped child.

~kat – 2 March 2017

A Three Line Tale for Sonya’s challenge this week, based on the photo above by Fleur Treurniet via Unsplash.


Seasoning – Part 29

Woman with a Tea Cup by John White Alexander

Seasoning – Part 29

“The letter?” Henry exclaimed. 

“Yes dear brother,” Helen nodded, “you know the one. I’m not sure how you found it. After all, it was me who Alice had asked to reveal it. Imagine my surprise, after rummaging through those vanity drawers like a mad woman, when Hannah interrupted me holding that very letter! Why do you think I came all this way? I had to see if the rumors were true!” 

“How did you? Alice asked you? What rumors?!” Henry rattled off questions without giving Helen a moment to answer. Exasperated, he slumped into his chair.

“Oh Henry, dear little brother,” Helen patted his hand, “let’s have some dinner and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Hannah, who had gleefully watched the two of them in silence, spoke up, “Yes! Let’s do, before everything gets cold!”

Henry looked at Hannah. She was beaming. He smiled softly. “God, you’re beautiful…” he thought, as his nerves settled to a purr, “oh, how I love you, Hannah.” Breaking the silence, he chuckled out loud, “Well clearly I am outnumbered here!” He reached for a slice of roast beef. 

The three filled their plates and savored several bites before curiosity got the best of Henry. 

“What I don’t understand, Helen, is how you knew about the letter. This is the letter we are talking about, right Hannah?”

“The very one!” Hannah blushed.

“Well Henry, you know you have always been a restless sleeper. Oh, the night terrors you had when you were young. Scared the dickens out of us! Especially Mother! I honestly thought you’d outgrown it. When Alice took ill and I came to care for her, she told me about your dreams. It seems you talked in your sleep, Henry, and Alice, the lovely girl that she was… well, she was so worried about you.”

“Worried? She never let on. I tried so hard to be positive around her.”

“Oh, you did Henry and you were. You were so kind and brave for her. But your dreams Henry; they told another story. There was a woman,” Helen glanced at Hannah, smiling softly, “there was always a woman in your dreams that you longed to find. Alice knew it was not her that you spoke of in your sleep.”

Henry’s eyes welled with tears, “I had no idea. She never told me.”

“Well, Alice wanted to be sure you would be alright…after she was gone. So she told me that she had written a letter to this mystery woman and asked me to hide it in the vanity. If her intuition was true, that one day you would find her, she asked me to give the letter to the woman of your dreams.”

“And how did you know, Helen? How did you know it was Hannah?”

“Oh my dears,” Helen cooed as she gazed at them across the table, “I knew the moment I saw the two of you together.”

Henry reached for Hannah’s hand, “So, what now, Helen?”

“Well, I think that’s up to the two of you.”

Hannah smiled and leaned into Henry.

“I think you’ll do just fine.” Helen softly remarked. “I suppose I’ll be leaving in the morning then.”

“So soon?” Hannah exclaimed, “but you just got here!”

“Oh, don’t you worry!” she winked at Hannah, “I’ll be back in the summer. I want to see that garden when it’s in full bloom! Well, enough talk!  Hannah, I would love some dessert. How about you Henry?”

“That sounds wonderful!” Henry replied. 

” Yes ma’am!” Hannah gushed. She glanced coyly at Henry adding, “…and kind sir. Dessert it shall be!” She sprang from her chair and skipped happily into the kitchen.

Henry smiled at his sister. 

“You both deserve to be happy, you know. Don’t let that lovely girl get away, Henry.”

“Oh, I won’t, Helen. Of that you can be certain. I never will.”

———————————

Other installments of this series can be found HERE.


Waste – A Haiku Challenge


waste not want
not to store excess
but plenty

it was such a waste
four long years of higher ed
just to flip burgers

the cruelest fate
one’s body wasting away
with one’s mind intact

it’s a waste of time
to try changing someone’s mind
who thinks with their heart

a life of worry
wasted on cheap wine and painkillers
death not survival

~kat – 1 March 2017

For Haiku Horizons Challenge, prompt word: Waste.


Secret Burn – A Haiku 


dawn is truth’s ally
its light burns fog into mist
exposing secrets

~kat ~ 1 March 2017

For Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge, prompt words: Secret & Burn.