From The Secret Life of Writers ~ Kelsey's Writing Prompt Monday
Every Monday, on The Secret Life of Writers' blog, they are offering a writing prompt to engage the writing community and just have a fun time! I thought I'd pop over and see what others were up to, but I got drawn in the instant I saw this picture. The image was so vivid and real to me, I had to write it down - and fast! (Keep that in mind, please!) While the initial image remained untarnished, the story and characters took on a life of their own. I hope you like this little story I created based on the prompt. Me thinks I'd like to bring these characters out to play a little more one day soon! Thanks Kelsey and The Secret Life of Writers' blog for starting Monday Prompts off with such a great one!
"Dissipation" ~ by C.M. Albert, 02/04/13
From the time I was six, I began dreaming of this day. I could see the antique, creamrose pearls laced among the loose chignon, while mad auburn tendrils tried breaking their cloistered hold. I would lie in bed at night, looking up at the old, weathered ceiling boards that had left me bitterly cold, all the way down to the bones jutting from my slender, childish hips. The ceiling cracks left just enough darkness in for me to see the light radiating around my own personal constellation; the Phoenix watched over me nightly to ensure the dreams that I had remained mine.
Back then, my little visions had brought about clear blue skies for our wedding day. It was cold and would be snowing in November, but we would be bundled up in our crimson colored Bentley with our cream-colored, fox-fur capes.
We would be cocooned until we reached the ancient castle's grand entrance. Gliding slowly through the brick and wrought iron archway, we would stop to wave at loved ones before leaving the sanctity of our car for the last trek across the snow-dusted, gravel-lined drive to the castle's chapel, where we would become soul-bound Infinites, an oddity amongst our kind who rarely mate and marry for life.
I glanced in the rear view mirror and saw diamonds reflecting off snow and tears; light pouring through the small Volkswagen filled the small space with a warmth that no longer existed in my soul. I was bones again, just as I'd been when the visions first came.
As a Seer, one would think that I could have foreshadowed this sooner. Except that's not the way it works when the visions are about yourself. Then, we have only our spiritual intuition to guide us and cannot rely on our second sight.
The car door creaked open as I hefted yards of silk and tulle from it's gutted innards. It felt like I was being rejected into the snow to find where my vision was leading me. I didn't think; I couldn't look. I closed my eyes and felt. I waited patiently for the sight of his indigo vibration to call me to him. That's when I saw it.
The cold-gray stone lay flat and lifeless against a church that was not ours. Its energy field was warped together in a swirling mix of warmth and cold; love and death - though only I could see it calling. I hiked up the wide girth of ivory silk covering the hoop of my wedding dress and ran - sprinted, really. Giving up, I kicked off my Manolos and dashed barefoot through the wet and dense snow, to find him. To take him back.
I saw his trail first; a liquid spreading of his signature indigo waves. Waves of energy that make up who he is this time around. They form him, mingling together, like a signature scent created just for me. It allowed my own violet soul to seek his in my visions; trusting me to wrap my energy around his and protect him.
But they didn't. Because I couldn't see this time. What good does being a Seer do when it leads you to the man you love, but then cannot show you a protected future together? Perhaps as Seers we are meant to create our own lives, and not rely on the preordained destiny we see for others. This is the lesson I fear is bearing down on me as I chase the indigo stream bleeding deeply into the virginal snow.
Finally, behind the church, under the shadow of its metal, kiss-shaped dome, he's mine again. I drop to my knees in the freezing slush that coats this holy, sacred ground and lay myself down upon his black tuxedo jacket. But it was not soon enough. He lost his last bit of indigo; it slipped right from his body, passing through mine on its way home. As it lifted, I watched it dissipate into the brightest white of the departed, his soul mingling with the fat, soft snowflakes that began to rain down upon me.
I raised my head to the sky with a grief so intense I willed myself to to dissipate with him. But I was a Seer, a visionary for our kind. Without me, we would all be hunted down and executed this way. Instead, I opened my mouth to let the flakes land gently on my tongue.