Faith Falters
Bio
I write for love and to stay alive.
IG: @haikuheroine
IG: @faith_falters
Stories (4)
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Eclipsed
Well, I wasn’t expecting that. It’s nearly 4am for starters, not that you’d know it – the sky is as bright as it always is here at this time of year. It doesn’t usually bother me, this perpetual daylight, but right now I miss the darkness something chronic, not going to lie. Honestly, I’m happy I’m alone right now, nobody needs to see these tracks on my cheeks, it’s not a good look. I’ve still got another couple hours until Cyril gets up and at least a few more before Rupert rises. A nocturnal soul, Rupert isn’t really built for this place. He sleeps more than both Cyril and me combined, even more than my cat, Melrose, and he’s carved out of wood. Me, I’m more like the gentoos and chinstraps and Adélies we study here, barely able to manage more than a few winks at a time. I say we, Cyril spends all his time in the laboratory with his microscopes and honestly I’m not really sure what Ru does – something to do with petrels. I don’t ask questions – there’s just so much going on in my head already, from the minutiae of my own problems to the deplorable state of the world being plastered across the world's media channels twenty-four seven. There’s just so much wrong with society and humans have proven to be, for the majority of my thirty-eight years on this earth anyway, the most disappointing species of all. That’s one of the main reasons I took this job in the first place, to get away from all that – all them. It’s ironic really, I travel all the way down to the bottom of the globe in order to be alone and then, minutes later, another pandemic forces the whole world back into lockdown. At least my isolation was my own choice this time. Besides, I’ve got Cyril and Rupert to talk to if I really feel the urge for human interaction, although I don’t think those two really like me that much and to be honest, I couldn’t really care less. After all, I have Melrose to confide in if I need to – he never judges me like those two do.
By Faith Falters4 years ago in Fiction
Seventeen Reasons to Never Stop Folding
I was nine years old when my aunt died. She was the most amazing woman, and yes, I realise that I’m probably a little biased. It’s true, I loved her something chronic, and not a day goes by that I don’t still think of her and wonder what might have been. Each time her memory comes to me, I try to reach back in time and tell my child-self that it wasn’t my fault. I don’t listen though, I’m too busy meticulously folding little squares of paper into origami cranes, desperately trying to reach that magical target of one thousand. See, I lived in Japan back then, and there’s a Japanese legend that promises a wish of good health will be granted to the recipient of such a hoard of paper birds. It wasn’t just me; my older sister and our parents were at it too. And when the phone call inevitably came to deliver the devastating news, we had made it all the way to nine hundred and eighty-three.
By Faith Falters5 years ago in Humans
