Home > Work > A Seeming Glass: a Collection of Reflected Tales
1 " No one knows who made the swans, did you know that?" Massimo said this looking out over the water. Niamh felt er heart rate pick up."Beautiful, aren't they? I wonder who did make them and why. They must have seen real swans to capture them so well don't you think?" He paused to look at Niamh as he always did. As though he still expected her to answer. Niamh raked on."I suppose there aren't any swans left at all now," Massimo mused.No, all gone now. Gone like the lake. Gone like the farm. Gone like my brothers. Grief tore at Niamh.'A Lamentation of Swans "
― J.A. Ironside , A Seeming Glass: a Collection of Reflected Tales
2 " She was everywhere. She was screaming in her tortured body. She was watching from cameras in every room. She was the false weather system and the storage devices. She was the gate keeper, throwing six shirts over her swan-brothers necks...opening six doors for her brothers to step through as young men, though their bodies were long gone, used up by the organ banks of the upper castes.A Lamentation of Swans "
3 " Do the gods reckon up the good we do by accident, when they calculate the value of our days? My motives were selfish. Nearly always are. How much of the good I have done in my life has been done in just such a way? I fancy the gods must take this into their accounting. They have a liking for cunning.'Traveller "
