Post by Kella on Apr 26, 2009 3:26:10 GMT -5
((A piece I once wrote on a whim... Feedback is welcome and encouraged. :] ))
The great creature plummeted.
Blood flowed from its broken chest, falling as it did. White feathers caught the wind and rent from its broad wings, drifting to a stop and dissolving in silvery pinpoints of light.
On the creature fell, heavenly face stained with once-shed tears.
Finally, its decent was stopped; the merciless ground provided no comfort.
Broken, breathless, the creature lay still. It was visible only to those who were looking. In the crowds of the dilapidated city square, it lay unseen.
A single tear of crimson slid slowly across its smooth cheek, quickly swallowed by the thirsty earth below.
The creature shimmered, its fine frame collapsing into fine white dust. And then, like ashes to ashes, it was gone...
In the center of a crowded, dilapidated square, a single flower grew. It was red. Blood red. Soft, delicate petals curled into a gentle cup. The stem below was stiff and green; it bore many perfectly-curved thorns.
The sun rose high into the sky, casting shadow across the square, and then the sun set, plunging all into darkness.
A woman shuffled across the square, baggy skin hanging loose from her battered bones.
She was one who saw.
Her eyes were drawn to the flower, and she smiled at its beauty.
Nitidus Nuntuis.
The name by which she called it.
The old woman gently plucked the flower from the ground; it lifted willingly for her wise hands.
The woman gently tucked the flower into her basket; it joined many others, all neatly and carefully arranged. The woman shuffled on, and darkness fully engulfed the square, leaving no trace of the flower that once was there.
A young man stepped out into the cold, his cheeks quickly blushing sanguine. Rubbing strong hands together, he adjusted his scarf once more, and set out for town, step brisk. A tumultuous mix of anxiety and excitement swirled in his warm hazel eyes, and his fine leather boots left sharp tracks in the freshly showered snow.
It was not long before he reached the city square, anticipation growing thicker with each and every step. He fingered a piece of parchment in the pocket of his warm fur coat, nodding decisively to himself.
"Today's the day... today's the day... Eleanor... today's the day..." He muttered incessantly, striking beat to the steady crunch of his footsteps.
His eyes seemed singularly focused, though something managed to catch their fancy...
He saw a worn old woman, looking frail and pitiful in the cold. In one hand she held a Lilly, in the other; a beautiful flower whose soft, cupped petals were the deep red of blood.
The man's mutterings stilled as a slow smile curved his lips and set a glimmer in his eye. He walked up to the old woman.
"How much for the red one?" His voice was supple like a lion’s.
The woman made no sound, merely held up two fingers.
The man paused a moment, waiting for her to speak. But she did not. So he opened his pack and removed two silver coins, and held them out to the woman.
His hand wavered uncertainly, but was soon set with confidence when the woman nodded silently and took the silver, gently handing him the red flower.
Fleur d'Amour
The man gratefully took the flower and briskly walked on, his mind quickly forgetting the woman.
"Eleanor, are you doing alright?"
A young woman nodded, absentmindedly twirling a ribbon between her fingers. Her fair face was pensive, just as a sparrow’s when it looks upon the world below.
She gazed, fascinated, at the red flower that sat lightly in a crystal vase upon the tabletop. She reached out and stroked its soft red petals.
"Just like the very first day..." Her voice was as soft as the petals of the flower.
"What was that?" A voice chimed from another room.
"Nothing mother..." The young woman trailed off.
The source of the chiming voice entered the room; portly woman carried on slender feet. She looked upon the young woman, and then at the flower.
"Still doting on that engagement present of yours?"
"Of course mother!" the young woman laughed, her voice tinkling like Spring rain.
En Flor Perpetuo
She stroked the flowers sanguine petals again. "Isn't it amazing how it never lost its bloom? It's been years... and still, just the same as the very first day..."
The woman's mother smiled warmly. "It is like your love... is it not? The same, forever and always..."
The young woman nodded slowly in wonderment. "Yes mother... yes it is..."
Rain poured.
The heavens wept their drenching tribute, soaking the landscape below and lending it a properly somber feel. An ivory casket stood ringed by ebony mourners. Nearby sprawled a willow, weeping as the rest. Perched within its branches was a solitary white dove, light glinting around its clear eyes. It watched with steady gaze as a limping Priest stepped forward and placed a single red flower upon the casket, brilliant in its crimson hue.
Mine-flower-to-fetch.
The dove's eyes did not leave the flower, even as the Priest began speaking in a slow, meandering voice.
"She was... a good mother.... a good friend. She lived... a long life. And now she passes... to heaven with her heart... a better place... for all of us..."
The dove rustled its feathers patiently, waiting for the Priest to finish.
"Amen."
Spreading its silky ivory wings, the dove took flight, swooping gracefully over the casket. It grasped the flower in its golden feet. There was nary a burden as the bird flapped surely off, Flower held ever so delicately.
Awed silence captured the crowd behind, and the rain poured.
Though, it seemed as if the dove was completely spared the torrent; not a drop of weeping rain graced its silky feathers as it flew away, off to parts unknown.
In the center of a crowded, dilapidated square, a brilliant red flower stood.
It was visible only to those who saw.
In the square, it stood, unnoticed.
The great sun in the azure sky set slowly. The sunset took on the color of the flower; sanguine and deep in its hue.
Down from the heavens, a great creature drifted. White robe swirled around its form, source-less light illuminating its heavenly face. As it drifted down, ever so gently, a feather loosed from its broad, pure wings. The feather halted in its decent and slowly dissolved in a shimmer of silvery light.
Softly, the creature alighted on the ground, reaching slender hand to caress the flower's soft petals.
Friend.
The great creature gently plucked the flower; it uprooted willingly for the gentle hands. A look of compassionate sadness shimmered in the creature's eyes, as it gazed first at the flower, and then at the crowded square. Spreading broad wings once more, the great creature took flight, slowly winging its way up toward the heavens.
The great creature plummeted.
Blood flowed from its broken chest, falling as it did. White feathers caught the wind and rent from its broad wings, drifting to a stop and dissolving in silvery pinpoints of light.
On the creature fell, heavenly face stained with once-shed tears.
Finally, its decent was stopped; the merciless ground provided no comfort.
Broken, breathless, the creature lay still. It was visible only to those who were looking. In the crowds of the dilapidated city square, it lay unseen.
A single tear of crimson slid slowly across its smooth cheek, quickly swallowed by the thirsty earth below.
The creature shimmered, its fine frame collapsing into fine white dust. And then, like ashes to ashes, it was gone...
In the center of a crowded, dilapidated square, a single flower grew. It was red. Blood red. Soft, delicate petals curled into a gentle cup. The stem below was stiff and green; it bore many perfectly-curved thorns.
The sun rose high into the sky, casting shadow across the square, and then the sun set, plunging all into darkness.
A woman shuffled across the square, baggy skin hanging loose from her battered bones.
She was one who saw.
Her eyes were drawn to the flower, and she smiled at its beauty.
Nitidus Nuntuis.
The name by which she called it.
The old woman gently plucked the flower from the ground; it lifted willingly for her wise hands.
The woman gently tucked the flower into her basket; it joined many others, all neatly and carefully arranged. The woman shuffled on, and darkness fully engulfed the square, leaving no trace of the flower that once was there.
A young man stepped out into the cold, his cheeks quickly blushing sanguine. Rubbing strong hands together, he adjusted his scarf once more, and set out for town, step brisk. A tumultuous mix of anxiety and excitement swirled in his warm hazel eyes, and his fine leather boots left sharp tracks in the freshly showered snow.
It was not long before he reached the city square, anticipation growing thicker with each and every step. He fingered a piece of parchment in the pocket of his warm fur coat, nodding decisively to himself.
"Today's the day... today's the day... Eleanor... today's the day..." He muttered incessantly, striking beat to the steady crunch of his footsteps.
His eyes seemed singularly focused, though something managed to catch their fancy...
He saw a worn old woman, looking frail and pitiful in the cold. In one hand she held a Lilly, in the other; a beautiful flower whose soft, cupped petals were the deep red of blood.
The man's mutterings stilled as a slow smile curved his lips and set a glimmer in his eye. He walked up to the old woman.
"How much for the red one?" His voice was supple like a lion’s.
The woman made no sound, merely held up two fingers.
The man paused a moment, waiting for her to speak. But she did not. So he opened his pack and removed two silver coins, and held them out to the woman.
His hand wavered uncertainly, but was soon set with confidence when the woman nodded silently and took the silver, gently handing him the red flower.
Fleur d'Amour
The man gratefully took the flower and briskly walked on, his mind quickly forgetting the woman.
"Eleanor, are you doing alright?"
A young woman nodded, absentmindedly twirling a ribbon between her fingers. Her fair face was pensive, just as a sparrow’s when it looks upon the world below.
She gazed, fascinated, at the red flower that sat lightly in a crystal vase upon the tabletop. She reached out and stroked its soft red petals.
"Just like the very first day..." Her voice was as soft as the petals of the flower.
"What was that?" A voice chimed from another room.
"Nothing mother..." The young woman trailed off.
The source of the chiming voice entered the room; portly woman carried on slender feet. She looked upon the young woman, and then at the flower.
"Still doting on that engagement present of yours?"
"Of course mother!" the young woman laughed, her voice tinkling like Spring rain.
En Flor Perpetuo
She stroked the flowers sanguine petals again. "Isn't it amazing how it never lost its bloom? It's been years... and still, just the same as the very first day..."
The woman's mother smiled warmly. "It is like your love... is it not? The same, forever and always..."
The young woman nodded slowly in wonderment. "Yes mother... yes it is..."
Rain poured.
The heavens wept their drenching tribute, soaking the landscape below and lending it a properly somber feel. An ivory casket stood ringed by ebony mourners. Nearby sprawled a willow, weeping as the rest. Perched within its branches was a solitary white dove, light glinting around its clear eyes. It watched with steady gaze as a limping Priest stepped forward and placed a single red flower upon the casket, brilliant in its crimson hue.
Mine-flower-to-fetch.
The dove's eyes did not leave the flower, even as the Priest began speaking in a slow, meandering voice.
"She was... a good mother.... a good friend. She lived... a long life. And now she passes... to heaven with her heart... a better place... for all of us..."
The dove rustled its feathers patiently, waiting for the Priest to finish.
"Amen."
Spreading its silky ivory wings, the dove took flight, swooping gracefully over the casket. It grasped the flower in its golden feet. There was nary a burden as the bird flapped surely off, Flower held ever so delicately.
Awed silence captured the crowd behind, and the rain poured.
Though, it seemed as if the dove was completely spared the torrent; not a drop of weeping rain graced its silky feathers as it flew away, off to parts unknown.
In the center of a crowded, dilapidated square, a brilliant red flower stood.
It was visible only to those who saw.
In the square, it stood, unnoticed.
The great sun in the azure sky set slowly. The sunset took on the color of the flower; sanguine and deep in its hue.
Down from the heavens, a great creature drifted. White robe swirled around its form, source-less light illuminating its heavenly face. As it drifted down, ever so gently, a feather loosed from its broad, pure wings. The feather halted in its decent and slowly dissolved in a shimmer of silvery light.
Softly, the creature alighted on the ground, reaching slender hand to caress the flower's soft petals.
Friend.
The great creature gently plucked the flower; it uprooted willingly for the gentle hands. A look of compassionate sadness shimmered in the creature's eyes, as it gazed first at the flower, and then at the crowded square. Spreading broad wings once more, the great creature took flight, slowly winging its way up toward the heavens.
I appreciate it.