EstrangeloEdessa

Call me Edessa.

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Real (#SG10thAnniverse) by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Real (#SG10thAnniverse)

She's sitting on a train, and she's nervous. She isn't used to riding trains. She's a Southern California girl, and her usual mode of transport is an electric car speeding down a concrete freeway. It took her quite the road trip to get all the way over here to the lovely state of New York. She's never been here before. She went ahead and acted like a proper tourist for a day or two, oohing and ahhing at the sights of New York City, but that wasn't really what she came here to see. (She did spend a disproportionate amount of time at Central Park, though.) The clouds outside are a little bit stormy, but it isn't actually raining. This disappo

Letter to Luck by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Letter to Luck

Hey there, Luck. Hey there. Been a while since we chatted, huh? I mean, I know you've still been around and everything. But actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about... You see, Luck, you're awfully nice. Especially to me. Now, now, don't get me wrong, don't think I don't appreciate you--of course I do, how couldn't I? But I have to wonder. We're good friends and all, but do I really deserve you? There's been a lot of things in my life that are awfully lucky. I was born thin, able-bodied, white, cisgendered--society gives me a free pass. I have parents who are still together and mostly don't fight and are able to support me and al

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Real (#SG10thAnniverse) by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Real (#SG10thAnniverse)

Letter to Luck by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Letter to Luck

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Poetry

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Christmas, Simplified (Cynical Christmas 2009) by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Christmas, Simplified (Cynical Christmas 2009)

How do you know when it's Christmas? There's caribou crap on the fresh, clean snow; Your house has been broken into. Some fat guy stole your cookies and milk; That's how you know it's Christmas. What is the feeling of Christmas? The feeling that you're never quite alone; That Santa's always watching. You know all your presents will be dumb ol' socks; That's how you feel 'round Christmas. Exactly what happens on Christmas? Brothers and sisters get into a fight Over whose toy is whose; Mommy's too tired to break it up; That's what happens on Christmas. Aren't you looking forward to Christmas?

A List of Minor Infractions by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

A List of Minor Infractions

I hate you. I hate so many things about you. I hate how fat you are. I hate the sound of your footsteps (so heavy and slow it's disgusting) and the way you rub your face and the look of your skin and your disgusting, disgusting farts and your burps. Please stop burping like that. I hate how you brought the iPad to the table that one time (or more than one time, I've forgotten) and snapped at everybody who tried to glance at it. For that matter, I hate your holding the iPad at any time now. It's even worse than Mama's Russian YouTube or the baby drooling all over the screen and I hate your old phone and the new one too and I hate that you're

Overnight by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Dark by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Half Done Essay by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Formatting is Important by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Greedy by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Hidden by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Hidden

There's a mask tucked away in the deepest of my pockets: I'm hiding the fact that I'm hiding the fact that I. There's a mask tucked away in the deepest of my pockets: I'm hiding the fact that I'm hiding the fact that I.

Cinderella by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Cinderella

Cinderella hangs her favorite ball gown-- It's been waiting there for years. She knows better than to take it down; There's no point in wasting tears. Cinderella sits and does her homework, Piles of history and math. Cinderella's going to wait and wonder, And call her friends when they get back. Cinderella thinks just for once she wouldn't mind Getting swept right off her feet. Sometimes "no" means "yes of course" But why can't her friends see? Godmother got distracted, House mice just don't know how to sew, Prince Charming's taking someone else, Pumpkins don't grow themselves, She's got homework to do. Cinderella's going to go to colleg

Those Girls by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Those Girls

I am not one of those girls, super skeleton skinny, fashionable corpses on their knees vomiting prayers, worshipping the porcelain bathroom god. But sometimes I wonder about them, that feared and pitied cult. I bend over and feel a fold of skin on my stomach. I could have sworn it wasn't there before, and I wonder what would it be to push in one finger and pull all the poison out through my throat. They scare me, those girls, and I am not one of them, and they scare me, those girls, because sometimes I want to join their world. I have no right: I am well-adjusted and self-confidant, I love my life, (even if sometimes I'd li

Short Stories

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Braids in the Attic by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Braids in the Attic

Once upon a time there was a girl with long blonde hair and she lived in a tower guarded by a fire-breathing dragon. "Can I go up in the attic?" asks the girl. The fire-breathing dragon blows out smoke and says, "No." "Why not?" asks the girl. "'Cause it's not safe," says the fire-breathing dragon. "Why not?" asks the girl. "You're gonna fall through the ceiling and land on the kitchen floor and break your neck. And then I'll have to take you to the hospital and do you think I have the time or the money for that?" The fire-breathing dragon shifts in her seat and crosses her bare, hairy legs. "What do you need to go up in the attic for, anywa

Letter to Cupid by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Letter to Cupid

Dear Cupid Eros, You never really bothered with me, at this time of year or any other. I'm not going to say I know why, though I am a bit curious. Perhaps you thought I was a bad investment. Or maybe you just knew I wouldn't hold it against you. I never expected you to come flapping into my life with your little chubby baby-fat legs and your quiver of arrows all tipped with hearts. How practical would that be, anyway? Heart-shaped arrowheads? I don't think they'd fly right. Maybe that's what accounts for all our romantical problems of today. I never seriously imagined you as a fat little baby, I hope you know. For that matter, I never seri

Test Tube Mermaid by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Test Tube Mermaid

I remember the way you were limping across the quad when I first saw you and nobody was giving a second glance, because they probably thought you had hurt yourself running maybe, except I knew that PE that day was indoors, and so I asked you, "Hey, are you okay?" and you said, "No." You sat down on the bench, rubbing your legs, and I noticed how odd they looked, misshapen, and gross and lumpy the way they were squeezed into your jeans. I asked where you were going, and you said "Choir," and I said, "Oh, I've never really paid attention to the choir," and you smiled this weird sad smile and you said, "I like the singing, but the dancing hu

Birth of the Moonlight Goddess by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Birth of the Moonlight Goddess

The date had gone well. She wore her prettiest purple coat, the one her sister had given her, brand new and pressed clean. He picked her up at the right time, and he kissed her during the movie. Afterwards, they wandered for hours through the city streets, gazing up at the pitch black sky. I'm so happy right now, he said. I feel so… alive. She had nodded. She wore her prettiest purple coat, the one her sister had given her - her sister loved purple and pink. Five years old, bouncing on the bed, her sister grabbed the puffy dress-up dress they shared. I get to be the princess! Four years old, cross-legged and still, she pulled

Blue, Azul, Bleu by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Blue, Azul, Bleu

The thought comes to her fast, and she must write it down -- her fingers scrabble for purchase through a desk awash with leaves. They connect with a lone thin marker, blue, azul, bleu, who knows how it got there. The tip is frayed, breaking apart with the force of her words, leaving little scratchy hairs of extra color around the final word "zero." She writes what she needs and stands and runs, the marker still in her hand but she needs to grab her keys so she shoves it away in her favorite coat pocket, deep like a hug but not deep enough, and it falls out just outside the door. When he finds it later it rolls beneath his feet, white and blu

An Uninspired Letter to my Muse by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

An Uninspired Letter to my Muse

Dear (although not extremely dear) Muse: Gosh darn it, I've never written a breakup letter before. How the heck is this supposed to go? See, see, this here is where most people would call on their muse, who would at this point be teary and angsty and darkly poetic alongside them. What a time for me to dump you. Well. I'm writing, as you may know but probably don't because you never took the time to pay attention to my current state of mind in any case, because I am leaving you. That's write. (See the kinds of puns I'm allowed to make without your presence?) I'm leaving you, before you leave me for good. Oh, don't go looking all surprised an

Blind by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Truth by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Bloody Beauty by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Prayer by EstrangeloEdessa, literature

Literature

Prayer

Dear God, It's been a very long time since I last wrote to You. I was a tiny little girl at the time, and my friend and I wrote You a letter and slid it under that old set of shelves. My friend said You would find it there. I forgot what it was about. I think it might have been a drawing. You remember, though. I think I've spoken to You even less. I don't know how I call myself a Christian if I don't know how to pray. But please, accept this as a prayer. I am writing to You, God, because I have a friend. I've never seen her or met her and I don't know her real name, but You know who she is. She is going through something hard right now. I

The Sisters Grimm

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Deviation Spotlight

Disney Flappers: Merida by EstrangeloEdessa, visual art

Disney Flappers: Merida

EstrangeloEdessa

About EstrangeloEdessa

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Artist // Hobbyist // Literature

Aug 12
United States
Deviant for 13 years
www.fanfiction.net/~estrangeloedessa
She / Her

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My Bio

If art is not interesting, then it fails to be art at all.

I may not be the most interesting person myself, but I sure do try.

I'm a Russian-speaking, ASL-signing, English-loving, book-reading, novel-writing, fanfic-scribbling, fanart-spamming, kid's-movie-watching, immature nineteen-year-old geek working hard on becoming an interesting person. Stalk me on the Internet!

Favourite Books

The kind printed on paper.

Other Interests

Sudoku, yard sale shopping, American Sign Language, flip flops, grammar, making birthday cards, anything to do with hot glue, 1920s flappers,