Dark Night By The Sea

by Léon Othenin-Girard

Sitting by a broken bridge, I dangle my legs over the edge of the chasm. Heights terrify me, but knowing I could die on this “adventure”—but die gloriously, be remembered—looking down feels so… I don’t know. Inconsequential? I guess that’s the right word for it. Took me three hours to find the energy to cross that bridge and now it’s just snapped.

Never got my magic, either. I was supposed to find some hidden power on this trip, they said I’d know when I had It, that it’d feel like electricity flowing through my veins. But there’s no power here. Just me, and you. A skull I found at the roadside.

Were you like me at some point, thinking you’d die heroically on your quest? We always expect that, but never the spiders, scorpions, or just running out of food because the bridge broke.

Ha. I know what it feels like now. A bad joke. But even if I laugh about it, I can’t help but feel disappointed. Maybe if I start walking back now, I can make it. Nothing wrong with a bit of shame.

But this chasm calls to me. I can almost see the wine-bottle-green sea that lies at the bottom, and the scent fills my head. It almost makes me want to jump, not to end this life, but to start a new one. Lord of the Sea, that’d be something.

I can already feel the jolt of saltwater running through my veins.

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About the Author

Léon Othenin-Girard loves writing queer speculative fiction and has been obsessed with Greek mythology since shortly after he learned to read. They're a big fan of video games and tabletop RPGs, musicals, and forgetting their schedule for uni.

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