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About Deviant Tess Grover28/Female/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 9 Years
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Father Spider by orphicfiddler Father Spider :iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 2 2
The Mirror Crack'd
Queen, queen of the snow bee flakes
Got away in a day
Where the old sea quakes.
With a rush and a flush in her milk-white cheeks,
Stole away in her sleigh
To the vitreous lakes.
Kai, Kai with the mirror in his eye,
Saw the Pearl in her fur
Through a shard and a lie.
With a huff and rebuff of his childhood hearth,
Set a-stir by her lure,
He clung to her thigh.
Girl, girl all alone in the pale,
Set aside as a bride
But betrayed by her veil.
With a sob and a throb of her soft, red heart,
To abide where they hide,
She traversed his trail.
Death, Death in the blood-red sledge
Followed close on their toes
A precipitous ledge,
While the bride, cast aside, watched his grave-dark face;
Saw a rose in the snows
Withered brown as the sedge.
Ice, ice on a table sere
Made of bone and a stone
From a northern weir
Drove the boy with a ploy of a boundless skate;
Leash prone, to him sewn
Like a well-matched hair.
Love, love in a lambent stare
Shone white with the light
Of a window’s glare,
And the
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 14 31
The Glowing Child
“Did I see you in the streets, perhaps, in a winter long ago?” asked the man with the rumpled hair, his cane clutched close, his eyes squinched tight in myopic contemplation.
“Perhaps,” the girl echoed, taking him by the hand. “That is not imperative for you to know, though, so I would suggest simply forgetting it.”
Impertinent girl, he thought, but quite possibly not. Quite possibly not a girl, he meant, not that there was any doubt she was impertinent. The creature, indeed, was all too white and fluttery to be much of anything customarily called human, and rather too small in his opinion to be so blithely commanding him about. Much was amiss here, but he took her hand anyway, mainly through exhaustion. It had been that sort of day.
“Where are we going?” he inquired, after a stumble through the unlit parlor. “Mr. S--- said it wouldn’t be long – walking has always been something of a difficulty and it would be highly una
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 17 18
Sometimes I think my mother took thalidomide,
Except the phocomelia struck my heart and not my limbs;
My hands, left all too capable, too strong perhaps
For one without two ventricles, or even one.
But that is not to say that monsters can’t be angels,
Angels monsters. My mercy is as heaven’s: by the coin,
One transient side to each unwanted fate, for no one
Is of saccharine, through and through.
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 8 10
The Rat King: An Introduction
To those that remain after the horde
Spills through and picks your ragged meat-hooks clean—
To those, I say:
Let not the sharpness of my teeth
Prove daunting, for your eyes are sharper still
And make me blush.
Let not the pallor of my skull
Deter you, for had I any hairs upon my pate
You’d pluck them dry.
Yours are the mouths that shape my words,
The claws that pull my collar towards you.
You are the Makers now
And I am that which you have fashioned,
Milky-white excrescence of the manifold mind,
Pearlescent horror.
There was a Savior once, but
Your gods ate him, and Sunday after Sunday consume
Him still, as rats will do.
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 4 4
July 3, 1928
The excavation commenced this morning. Max claims we'll have this temple untucked before next October, but I know he's being excessively optimistic for Arthur's sake. Still, who'd suppose we could even manage this far without bumbling ourselves into a cataract? I rode on a camel for the first time only a month ago, and the beast didn't even bite me. I'd say that's success already.
July  4
Bloody hot. Why'd we go in summer again?
July 6
We've got some sort of corner showing through. Can't determine yet whether it's from the point of a pyramid-like object, or the corner of a more rectangular sort. Odd angle. I suppose centuries of sand will do that to you.
It'll be an awful lot more interesting when we get to the proper haul, though I imagine most of that's inside. Until then it's picks and more picks and sweating little snail trails on the sand. Makes it very clear how much of man is liquid.
July 9
Arthur's had that twitchy look about him all day
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 13 20
They Also Serve Who Only Stand and Wait
I don't know when we first went underground. I don't even know if it was one mass exodus, a swarm of mankind trickling through the earth's crust so vehement we carved our own caverns by the force of trampling feet, or whether it was a gradual process, perhaps even a repetitive one, a family here, a neighborhood there. For all I know, the echo of the damp subterranean machine has always reverberated off the cave walls, created long past by the Angels, who think of our well-being even while they shake their heads helplessly at our flaws.
They say that those who remained on the surface were raptured away in a great flash of light, like a million suns converted into raw energy all at once. While it was rumored once that the flash was our doing, our own horrid creation, we all know better now. It was the Maker who brought it forth from the void and cast it onto the earth's crust, as though shot from an immense sling, taking only those who were brave enough to trust in Him. We, who live in t
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 151 80
III. A Veil, Darkly
He looks so tired. I want to sweep my hand across his eyes, as people do for the dead in movies, gracefully lowering his lids with my palm to give him peace. But he is alive, and I am the one who is not.
It's a dinner, I gather, that keeps him up at night. A dinner for the ballet. He always was obsessive with his job, a right Diaghilev, though much kinder - no angry impresario, tapping his cane upon the floor to mark his displeasure. His is a more heartfelt lament, a downcast blue eye, a sigh of disappointment. The ballerinas stop their tapping at once and huddle, cooing like doves with concern for what they've done wrong, how can they improve, what has upset him so?
I hate them.
I've been, since birth, an envious sort. I would say unfortunately, but perhaps I should say ironically. These words have been so altered since their conception that I don't know anymore. They have tattooed their phonemes into something quite different, like reckless teenagers.
I have a reckless teenager. Had.
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 14 17
II. Patty-Cake
Jack is back, but he doesn't say anything, which is no surprise really, and so very Jack of him. I pretend I'm frosting something, even though this cake already has more peach-colored roses on it than I have flower nails. I sure hope the Patels like sugar comas.
He hauls a bag of onion bagels up to the register, and Maggie rings them up, but he stares at me the entire time with those die-for blue eyes, limbal rings black like an inverse corona. God, he's beautiful.
But a prick. Totally. Always was. I remember when I wrote a sonnet for him at fifteen, and he set fire to it on my front lawn and walked away, smearing mud and ash across the sidewalk with his red and black Doc Martens. I wanted to strangle him, but I couldn't, because I knew we'd be back together in a couple of days, laughing while we spray-painted André the Giant onto shop-sides and pretended someone cool like Shepard Fairey would actually visit our God-forsaken little backwater.
He leaves the bakery without saying hi
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 12 17
I. Stopwatch Jack
"I don't want to go home," I tell her.
She cocks her head at me like she's looking at some sad pigeon that just fell down on the sidewalk in front of her, only it's not just any pigeon, it's one she knows and goes to lunch with every afternoon. But she doesn't really care, she just wants to know if it has the plague or not, because she's worried it might be catching.
"And why not, Alex?" she asks calmly. "Are you worried about your father?"
"I mean, of course I'm worried about him. But I don't see how that would stop me from going home. He needs me after Mum's passing and all. Why would that stop me?"
"Maybe you think he'll be distant. That it will be different . . ."
"Of course it's going to be different! But that isn't it." I want to tell her she's being stupid, but I'd also like to stop going to counseling, thank you very much, so perhaps it's best I don't say anything at all.
"What are you really worried about?" she inquires, head tilted so far it looks like her ear is tryin
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 9 22
La Chatte Alerte by orphicfiddler La Chatte Alerte :iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 3 10 Le Chat Endormi by orphicfiddler Le Chat Endormi :iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 4 6
The Angel in the House
"Dearest, there, did you hear…?" But his voice trailed off with a glance at her blank little face, tilted at him with feline confusion. He rose the paper to the level of his nose and rustled it nervously. "Don't trouble yourself, I'm sure it's nothing…"
Yet there it was again, he could feel the vibrations in his chair! His wife's obvious inability to hear it made him loathe to admit this, however, and he slouched lower under the breakfast table, observing her over the top of the business section.
She was an uncanny creature, he had to admit. Their courtship had been brief and perfunctory, more compelled into occurrence through their families than any actual inclination. And yet, he had come to love her in some fashion. The silent way she slid about the breakfast table; the sweep of dark hair against her pale forehead; the classic curve of her nose; her dainty, dexterous hands fluttering as she cleared up the plates. There were times when he wished he could em
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 53 48
House of the Snail
Curled like a tadpole in the confines of the ball turret, he slips into his mind and enters the first nautilus ring of memory.
He sees a potting shed littered with terra cotta fragments, soft loam, and quietly rotting tomato vines. It is fall now, and the place hasn't been used for nearly a month, not that his mother was ever much of a gardener - she prefers the career of a socialite, and complains constantly about this heathen life in the country. His father yells whenever she embarks on a new tirade, and his mother drinks something out of a square-cut glass bottle that looks as though it were pilfered from Oz, and then everything is still again. For a while.
He watches himself enter the shed, gawky and fair. Tears have made a paisley pattern of sorts in the skim of blood on his pale cheek, and the skin about his eye looks like an oval of wet blotter paper rife with plum-colored ink. He purloins a splinter of stake from the tomato ruins, and in his rage and helplessness, ass
:iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 102 62
Mature content
1. Mina in the Train :iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 9 22
Mature content
Christmas Parodies :iconorphicfiddler:orphicfiddler 3 31


Throwback Thursday #14
This is the 14th installment of Throwback Thursday with CRLiterature! Every Thursday we'll share a new collection of retro goodies just for you!
DDs Strike Back

Reuse The Resource

Phantom Prompts
Forum Challenge- A story with no characters!

The Literature Gallery Awakens
This week, other years.
The Lady Of The Lake by orphicfiddler
Throwback Questions
Who have you known the longest on the site? Do you still talk?
Do you have an old piece you wrote that makes you go "Wow, I actually wrote that?!"
Most cringe-worthy s
:iconhugqueen:HugQueen 7 7
The finest poem that I could write
is not of tongues, or lips, or hair,
or what I hope we do tonight,
nor how your name hangs in the air.
No, the finest poem that I could write
is really quite a selfish one:
whatever thoughts could keep me whole,
when half of me, for now, is gone.
The words themselves are lyrical,
yet simple, as most mantras are,
to cling as near to me as life,
when half my life has gone afar.
And in it, should contain each thought,
and feeling, rationed bit by bit,
into what's only best described
as a Human Being Survival Kit.
I love you now, and always have--
until my death, I always will,
and legacy, if kept intact,
will echo that I love you still.
We love as one when you here--
the Universe completes itself,
and should it try to interfere
the Universe can go to hell.
I love you.
:iconniedec:niedec 2 3
Owly Cat by Sp00ntaneous Owly Cat :iconsp00ntaneous:Sp00ntaneous 3 3 Red Riding Hood - werewolf by GuillermoRamirez Red Riding Hood - werewolf :iconguillermoramirez:GuillermoRamirez 7,965 483 skeleton in the closet by ezorenier skeleton in the closet :iconezorenier:ezorenier 123 3 Reading light by randyotter Reading light :iconrandyotter:randyotter 67 11 Ophelia by Voodica Ophelia :iconvoodica:Voodica 2,935 117 Gypsy girl violin by Hollow-Moon-Art Gypsy girl violin :iconhollow-moon-art:Hollow-Moon-Art 22 2 Imperfections - STOCK GUIDE (vertical edition) by Niedec-STOCK Imperfections - STOCK GUIDE (vertical edition) :iconniedec-stock:Niedec-STOCK 3 0 Imperfections by Niedec-STOCK Imperfections :iconniedec-stock:Niedec-STOCK 8 0 The Princess by Qinni The Princess :iconqinni:Qinni 3,353 161 Elsa (Disney's Frozen) Ice-olated by Carlo-Marcelo Elsa (Disney's Frozen) Ice-olated :iconcarlo-marcelo:Carlo-Marcelo 10,982 360 I Was Born To Love You by daekazu I Was Born To Love You :icondaekazu:daekazu 6,244 454 Cubist Noir - Digital Breakup by niedec Cubist Noir - Digital Breakup :iconniedec:niedec 4 15 Cubist Noir by niedec Cubist Noir :iconniedec:niedec 1 0 Sherlock by Loopydave Sherlock :iconloopydave:Loopydave 1,731 415


Stolen brazenly from the journals of =Lucy-Merriman and ThornyEnglishRose. You're supposed to bold the books you've read entirely and italicize those that you've read partially.  According to the BBC, most people have only read six of these. Mostly what this list reveals is that I have a reading problem, which I already knew, because I regularly forget to complete everyday tasks or eat or be social because I'd rather finish whatever pile of books I've dragged home from the library this week.

1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2. The Lord of the Rings - J.R.R. Tolkien
3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4. Harry Potter series - J.K. Rowling
5. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6. The Bible
7. Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte
8. Nineteen Eighty Four – George Orwell
9. His Dark Materials – Philip Pullman
10. Great Expectations – Charles Dickens
11. Little Women – Louisa M. Alcott
12. Tess of the D'Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy
13. Catch 22 – Joseph Heller
14. Complete Works of Shakespeare
15. Rebecca – Daphne Du Maurier
16. The Hobbit – J.R.R. Tolkien
17. Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks
18. Catcher in the Rye – J.D. Salinger
19. The Time Traveller's Wife – Audrey Niffenegger
20. Middlemarch – George Eliot
21. Gone With The Wind – Margaret Mitchell
22. The Great Gatsby – F. Scott Fitzgerald
23. Bleak House – Charles Dickens
24. War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy
25. The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams
26. Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh
27. Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28. Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck
29. Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll
30. The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame
31. Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy
32. David Copperfield – Charles Dickens
33. Chronicles of Narnia – C.S. Lewis
34. Emma – Jane Austen
35. Persuasion – Jane Austen
36. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – CS Lewis
37. The Kite Runner – Khaled Hosseini
38. Captain Corelli's Mandolin – Louis De Bernieres
39. Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden
40. Winnie the Pooh – A.A. Milne
41. Animal Farm – George Orwell
42. The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown
43. One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44. A Prayer for Owen Meaney – John Irving
45. The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins
46. Anne of Green Gables – L.M. Montgomery
47. Far From The Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy
48. The Handmaid's Tale – Margaret Atwood
49. Lord of the Flies – William Golding
50. Atonement – Ian McEwan
51. Life of Pi – Yann Martel
52. Dune – Frank Herbert
53. Cold Comfort Farm – Stella Gibbons
54. Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen
55. A Suitable Boy – Vikram Seth
56. The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57. A Tale Of Two Cities – Charles Dickens
58. Brave New World – Aldous Huxley
59. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time – Mark Haddon
60. Love In The Time Of Cholera – Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61. Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck
62. Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov
63. The Secret History – Donna Tartt
64. The Lovely Bones – Alice Sebold
65. The Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas
66. On The Road – Jack Kerouac
67. Jude the Obscure – Thomas Hardy
68. Bridget Jones's Diary – Helen Fielding
69. Midnight's Children – Salman Rushdie
70. Moby Dick – Herman Melville
71. Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens
72. Dracula – Bram Stoker
73. The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett
74. Notes From A Small Island – Bill Bryson
75. Ulysses – James Joyce
76. The Bell Jar – Sylvia Plath
77. Swallows and Amazons – Arthur Ransome
78. Germinal – Emile Zola
79. Vanity Fair – William Makepeace Thackeray
80. Possession – A.S. Byatt
81. A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens
82. Cloud Atlas – David Mitchell
83. The Color Purple – Alice Walker
84. The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro
85. Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert
86. A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry
87. Charlotte's Web – E.B. White
88. The Five People You Meet In Heaven – Mitch Albom
89. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90. The Faraway Tree Collection – Enid Blyton
91. Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad
92. The Little Prince – Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93. The Wasp Factory – Iain Banks
94. Watership Down – Richard Adams
95. A Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole
96. A Town Like Alice – Nevil Shute
97. The Three Musketeers – Alexandre Dumas
98. Hamlet – William Shakespeare
99. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Roald Dahl
100. Les Miserables – Victor Hugo

It's not the best list, in my opinion, and sort of redundant at points. (Why both Chronicles of Narnia and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe? Shouldn't Hamlet be implicitly included in the Complete Works of Shakespeare? And on what planet is The Da Vinci Code literature?) It's got some good stuff, too, though, and really I just like the idea of encouraging people to read.
  • Listening to: Tuvan throat singing
  • Reading: Everything Is Illuminated - Jonathan Safran Foer
  • Watching: Oscar nominated everything
  • Playing: F.E.A.R. and Half-Life 2
  • Eating: nachos
  • Drinking: Mountain Dew


Tess Grover
United States
Location: Seattle, WA
Education: Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and English Literature, summa cum laude
Profession: Not-so-starving artist. Literary genius. Weasel under the cocktail cabinet.



Add a Comment:
HugQueen Featured By Owner May 30, 2017   Writer
Glad to see you still lurk from time to time. ♥
jes6ica Featured By Owner Feb 17, 2016
Your writing is excellent. I'm wondering whether you'd be interested in submitting They Also Serve Who Only Stand and Wait or another story to an anthology I'm putting together. For more information, please visit 
amrgalal7 Featured By Owner Feb 19, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy Birthday :party: :cake: :happybounce:
ThornyEnglishRose Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2013  Hobbyist Writer

Once again we are even on DDs. :evileye:


But seriously, congratulations. :hug:

rlkirkland Featured By Owner Oct 17, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
What a engaging gallery, look forward to reading more.
eaglswe Featured By Owner Sep 20, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
RollingTomorrow Featured By Owner Sep 1, 2013   General Artist

Hello! :iconexcitedhiplz:


Thank you for submitting to our trimonthly writing prompt at :iconlive-love-write:!


Your submission has been featured in our group journal:


Please add the article to your favorites to support your work and the prompt. :la:


We hope to read more of your writing! :happybounce: Thank you!

ThornyEnglishRose Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the points! :hug:
orphicfiddler Featured By Owner Aug 30, 2013
No problem. :aww:
amrgalal7 Featured By Owner Aug 10, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for the :+devwatch: :tighthug:
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