I am still on self-forced writing break until after New Years, but I have been getting cranky and itchy lately. Finally, I decided today, that the best way to fix this was to write something. Just something short. I didn't have anything in mind that would work for something short and quick. So I decided to turn to two of my favorite writing inspiration resources.
Music and beautiful images.
I went to my iTunes and opened my recently added playlist and hit shuffle. This song came on.
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| No, I hold no rights to the image, it was just one I came across on Pintrest. |
And then I wrote. It's probably not very good. It's pretty weird, and obviously very short. But I enjoyed the process of its creation and thought you might enjoy it too.
_____________________
The glistening of the
sunrise on the very tops of the clouds.
And the way one’s hair glows when that setting sun is behind it,
illuminating the tiny hairs that wish to fly away and reach the sky. That is the way I would describe the color of
his skin.
But that is not the
only color. There is turquoise, the
color of the sea when it is kissed by sunlight, with coral and dolphins below
its surface.
And his eyes. I don’t know that there are words to describe
them. They are alive, simply. They contain the universe in its impossible
entirety. Framed by lashes thick in an
unhuman way. And white. White as a dove’s wing.
He is the most
beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.
Some would call him
terrifying. Especially if he were to be unexplainably
present when you awoke in the middle of the night, as I had.
But I am enchanted.
The moon floats through
my open window, riding the summer air into the room. My lacey window coverings float through the
room, like tortured shades, searching the firmament for their lost lover. A flash of lightning breaks the black sky
outside.
He looks at me
unwaveringly. His eyes were fixed upon
me the moment I awoke and saw him perched on my footboard. He is only a breath away from me, but he does
not move and neither do I. We are
suspended in this mutual moment of mysticism and the uncertain.
I should be wondering
why he is here. I should be wondering what he is. I should be contemplating the obvious fact
that he is not human.
But I cannot look away.
There is the faintest
of movement to his lips and then they are forming shape to form words. And for that small period of time that I have
to form a thought before he speaks, I am filled with panic. Surely words will break this moment.
But it is only a small
moment I have to think this thought, and then words come.
“What if this storm
ends?”
And as his words break
that silent barrier between the real world and the one where I am possibly
dreaming, white flakes begin to fall.
4 comments:
That was beautiful. This is why you are one of my favorite authors.
Short and amazing. Inspiration comes from many places and I'm definitely checking out your board.
What fun places to go for inspiration! Thanks for sharing your words and what was behind the words. :)
~Jess
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