dulcet

volume one

an atlas ofsecrets & dusty attics

maggieraspberrypie.infoevaweepling.tumblr.coméglerodirroc.tumblr.comgaston johngaston johnyouveplayedkind.tumblr.comindia rosehoneyandlavender.tumblr.comgrace fontaineflickr.com/people/ghostinlace

lisamariethese-misty-eyes.tumblr.comtajda ferkoonlybloodfrombrokenhearts.tumblr.comlunautterfolly.tumblr.comamelia-mayamelia-mayameliedreamsagain.tumblr.com

© dulcet magazine.

volume authors

by gaston john

she was sitting at a round table in a fairly small kitchen, leaning her left elbow on it and resting her head on the palm of her hand, and gazing back through the window over her shoulder with a motionless expression on her face. she was waiting for him, like almost every other morning, when a hollow bump greeted her from the hall, and his silhouette emerged in the doorway. she turned to him to meet his skittish smirk, which she matched with one of her own.hehe walked to the stove and placed a coffee pot on the burner, then

pulled up a chair to sit across the table from her. they sat in silence, exchanging looks full of masked eagerness and some sort of passion, until the coffee started to popple and splatter. he propped his hands against the edge of the table and stood up, heaving an almost inaudible sigh, then took a quick spring to the stove and poured the coffee into two white cups. she wasn’t looking at him, just listening to the harmonious noises he was makingmaking behind her back. when he took a seat in front of her once again and pushed one of the cups closer to her, she was drawing two cigarettes from a half empty ramshackle pack. with a deft movement of her hand she placed them both between her cracked lips, and lit them up with matches from some motel, taking a long drag before pulling one cigarette away and leaning over the table to seat it in his mouth, slightly brushing her finger-tips through his lips, as he was gazing straight into her eyes.he drowned one cube of sugar in his black coffee and passed her the

bowl, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke from his nose as she put one cube in her coffee and another one in her mouth.this quiet tranquillity was thronging the whole house and puffing out the chimney, and the feeling tangling up between them was growing with every eloquent look and every heartfelt smile, until their cups were empty and their cigarettes have been turned into piles of ashes.theythey gazed at each other as if trying to take pictures with their eyes,

not being able to take their eyes off one another, perhaps for fear of miss-ing something important and irretrievable; not murdering the stillness for another moment. then he flashed a grin at her, which quickly faded into a somewhat modest smile. “i love you,” he said.“i love you too.”

by égle

and her memories locked inside scented old seashells of moments were lost at sea where they belonged, the day she ceased to believe her dearest ghost

ship would ever await her ashore once again.

photo by indiawords by maggie

She broke through the soil with a crown of tears soaking her hair. Her hair was made of curled moonbeams, each ringlet fell down her back as though it were a puddle of spilt moonlight; her eyes were shaped like silver dollars, opened wide and painted a deep velvet blue, and often grey swirls seemed to float through the irises. But there was no one around to look. All she was were the stars around her, but they seemed to desert her, for each night she spreadspread her arms like wings and kept her spine aligned with the soil and tried to number the heavens, and each morning she awoke with silver fingertips and dreams in her eyes; and the following night, more stars than the night before.

She was lonely. In the afternoons she dirtied her nails trying to return to her mother’s womb; but her mother was weary and had no words of encouragement for the young girl with crescent ears. The girl wandered, allowing her mother rest, but soon the girl became sore from her walks and she learned her finger against a large rock with a deep opening.

DuskDusk fell, the girl awoke, a bear stood over her. His arms were limp at his sides and his brow was furrowed. The heat of his furred body kissed the girl’s pale cheek.

She was not afraid. She stood, her knees wobbling; her eyes smiled. But she found that she could not speak. Her lips had found themselves so lonely that in the night they had formed into one. A sound coughed in her throat.TThe bear sighed, a low growl that licked at her bones and told

her of the sorrow and loneliness he had felt for so long. I have lived in this cave for many years, he said quietly, and I have been lonely. I’ve kept busy learning many things, but always it was companionship I most wanted. Can you speak? the bear asked her, his voice sounding thick and brown as though it were coated in the earth beneath his feet.TThe girl shook her head and gestured towards the stars. She

bent down, her knees resting in the dust; with a slender finger she traced to him, Do you know how to count the sky?Yes. A claw mark in the soil beside her, another sigh.Will you teach me?Yes. HeHe took her small hand in his paw and led her to the soil she

had sprouted from. His lips formed a smile, he bowed his head.Why are you silent? she wrote.His eyes darkened and he turned his whiskered face to the

darkening sky.You looked at the stars and my tongue froze. I cannot remember how to

speak, only how to count with you.TThey fell backward slowly, their arms turned to flightless

wings, faces searching the sky. The bear’s clawed fingers moved against the earth and stirred a small cloud of dust. The girl thought he was writing to her and wished to say she could not see his words. But then she noticed the hairs that brushed her knuck-les, his claws tapping against her dirt-stained nails, and she sud-denly knew that time had stopped, night and day and age as well. They would count the stars one by one, and then they would fly.

words by graceset by lisamarie

I want my body to lie

softly transitioning into earth

where the wild deer run

across my burried coffin

and eat the flowers

laid at my tombstone

words & photo by eva

All alone I walk, a long and winding path,no fear for what I’ll find.

Although I stumble along the way, the skyurges me on, to another day.No matter where this leads me,I’ll come out better for it,I I won’t look back.

This is the road I’ve taken,I’ll carry my sins with no regrets,a burden all my own.I walk this path alone.

words & set by luna

Can I blame my loyalty for my despair?Well, scratch my heart out then,

It’s all in there.

Your blood poured through the funnel,To reach my fragile veins.

My eyes are bleak, the bones too weak,I didnI didn’t know your game.

It tears me up inside,Seeing you looking like this,Half dead, half alive.

We bent the truth for all our livesThinking it could bloat the lies.

It tears me up insidIt tears me up inside,Knowing my body is now,More dead than alive.

words by tajda

morning will find a way home soon, the sun will bleed lilac sparkles over the mountains and rusty copper beds of willow trees. she will rise her porcelain cup under the infinite lilac ceiling. perhaps she can take home drops of light to ignite her soul at night.night. perhaps the sun will be more generous than you ever were.

words by maggiephoto by amelia-may

design & collection:maggie (raspberrypie.info)

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~ an atlas of secrets & dusty attics ~secrets-and-dustyattics.tumblr.com

© dulcet magazine.