A short standalone story about the depths of darkness we’d endure for those we love. This is already outlined, so I’ll add it to my NaNoWriMo pile in case I finish the Vic fics.
Clio needs three things to come alive in the world to which she truly belongs: the touch of her human lover, Tipsy; the fruit that grows in Tipsy’s garden; and a single, unwittingly sacrificed memory from a house guest once a year. Clio cherishes every moment in the human world, knowing her time with Tipsy is short; a few days at the end of every summer is no time at all.
Tipsy is lonely without her cursed love. Desperate to keep Clio with her forever—and away from the gods who claim her consciousness through the forgotten months—Tipsy lures people to her museum-like home to steal their memories. The more they forget, the more decorative they become, populating Tipsy’s garden as barely breathing statues.
But Tipsy’s greed has consequences. With the memories of so many people sustaining her, will Clio even remember who she is? Will she recognise the person Tipsy has become?
Who will be remembered when everything is forgotten?
This is not a fairy tale.