madregor
She beckoned to him from the balcony, her auburn hair a tumble of light over her shoulder. He couldn't believe the beauty of her, the sheer effervescence of her presence. He walked slowly toward the door, eyes locked on her, loathe for even a moment to step out of her presence. She watched him back and a slight smile curled the corners of her lips - he was hers.
There were never any words with which she could describe her world. Where others saw in color, the full spectrum or so they thought, she saw everything. There was a shade right between the orangest red and reddest orange that was the perfect one to paint a sunset in. There was a color that made her think of forgotten promises, another that sounded like true love.
She conjured his image to her mind, filling in every detail with obsessed precision. Slowly, it grew more real in her eyes until finally he stood before. His green eyes though were blank and dead and though he breathed softly, his chest rising and falling under the ochre tunic, he made no motions. She screamed a curse and thrust her hand into the space he should occupy. With that, he disappeared and she fell to the ground in tears.
She embellished heavily on the story. A wyrm became a 20 foot tall dragon with a wing span twice its length. Her drab farm hand was now a devilishly handsome prince and the awkward hug and twenty pounds became a night of love followed by a tragic separation. Her audience enjoyed it well enough, but she was beginning to feel like a real charlatan.
She'd weathered many a storm, her deck washed clean and scoured by the pounding waves. Clean even of the crew that had held tight, but not tight enough, to rigging and mast before tumbling off and down into the churning waters. She was complacent now in her journey, taking it as she pleased with no ant-like humans scurrying over her demanding she go this way or that way when all she wanted was to drift.
She was falling, flailing through the water. No matter how she moved it seemed to only drive her deeper into the ocean. Her air was running out, her throat burned and her eyes even worse so as they blinked open and shut in the stinging salt water. She could feel hope slipping further from her as the water ran between her fingers, as she fell deeper and deeper.
She willed the rock to rise, but it lay there stubbornly on the ground. Again, she shut her eyes tight and pushed her will at it, feeling only growing frustration with this pointless task. She could feel Ard's eyes on her back, his gaze sardonic as he watched her futile attempts. Finally, she opened her eyes and yelled, "This is stupid!"
The sanctity of marriage...
She stood by his side, their hands tied with a red ribbon as the priest droned on and all she could think was "What am I doing?"
Her eyes followed the motion of his hands as he blessed them once, twice, thrice. And she could only ask her self "What am I doing here?"
The words washed over her, around, and under her. Beside her, He said, "I do."
Had they missed the other part? The objections part? Couldn't anyone see to object? Didn't they realize how awfully, terribly wrong it was?
Beside Him, she said, "I do."
Flat, flat flat. She stared down at her chest in anxious frustration. As per any girl her age, her breasts should be coming in now, blooming into bouncy, jiggly wonderfulness, but instead she had mosquito bites. Itty bitty mosquito bites. She turned sideways to the mirror and sucked in her stomach hoping that would help, but no such luck.
"Society, what a great fuckin' idea, am I right?" His voice cut through the chatter of the coffee shop, loud, strident and obnoxious.
I looked up from my book and scowled at him. He stood over my table, cup in hand, smiling down at me with that cocky smirk. "Well, am I?" he asked, plopping into the chair opposite mine.
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