Helmling's profile

“Some Hemingway” Her breasts--fuller than before, like her wider hips, meatier thighs--rest against the padding of the bedding. Full. The light is still there, glazed softly on the outside of the window, but she hears in the purr of the rays striking the glass that the sun itself has passed by. Is he still-gone-again? It is almost evening. His class was over hours ago. She shifts to her side. 
The child is quiet. 
She feels the difference in that quiet. Feels the change coming.
 A changing o...

~prologue~ I sit by the fire, weary beyond telling. A sharp crack ejects an ember from the embrace of the stone and heat, leaving to die its ghost out on the floor. I wonder for a moment as a thin line of luminous red light squirms along the uneven shape of it, as the glowing fibers creeps across the black coal, consuming it. Is its essence changed by the light? Changed by fire? Or is something within its nature simply released? Is this fate played out on this dark corner of my floor, or is i...