Old • New • Borrowed • Blue
Cera Rose Madrigal
Who Am I?
I have stood at the edge a thousand times, ridden on the wings of a storm, scraped by for long years in twilight cities which all begin to blur.
I have watched from afar, looking out into worlds of water, of ice and land, of smoke, pain... and of suffering, yes, for what world is truly free of that? But also: Worlds of love. Happiness. Human connection.
I have served in a place of respite and laughter, a place of welcome departure from all life's turmoil.
The colors and lights and sounds of that home are now distant things, from another life and another time.
This world I now find myself in is new to me; akin to some where I have lived, and yet unique, and my place in it yet to be found.
And in this world so full of turmoil, I will once more find a way to serve.
I have seen worlds.
Sometimes, I write about them.
Three such stories, originally published under the name Jay Kerschner, can be found below.
Published Stories
The Sea's Own
It’s a daring rescue attempt on the high seas. In this action-packed story, see through the eyes of a cruel pirate captain, a cook who’s in over his head, a captive yearning for her home, a warrior from beneath the waves, and a malevolent creature that thrives on pain. Few will survive…
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The Little Clockwork Girl
In this whimsical tale, the city of Cloverfall rejoices when a solitary tinker crafts a wondrous mechanical girl. The child, however, is flawed, and when she is stolen away she may never find her way home – if she can even remember it.
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The Death of Us
When Captain Harland and his crew are stranded on an uncharted island, their only chance for survival lies in a strange and seemingly abandoned ship. But there is something beyond human understanding on board, and few who hear its call can keep from falling to madness… or worse.
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“Adrift in the sky, suspended in time, In a stream of dancing lights. A figure of Red arcs in spiraling webs, Straining up into the night. A figure of Blue, twisting ‘round as it shoots, In a stream, a rippled flow. Then spinning it falls, in the trail of a ball, Turning to me as it goes.” —David Adams