I really wonder how you feel on these nights so alone

“if only you could see”

refraction

Jul 12, 2017 || 8:13 AM || comment?

[originally written 02.03.07]
[minor edits have been made]

My fingers caressed the ivory keys. From above, the crystal chandelier caught billions of streams of light. And as the light waves bent in the many prisms, spots of multi-colored light were cast on the bare walls. This room was my room, a lonely little piece hidden away in the expanse of this house. The chandelier was the only friend of my grand piano.

There were no chairs save for the piano seat. There were no paintings hung on the wall, no exquisite vases to give the room a flavor. Often times, I came in here not to be alone, but to be loved.

Pressing all the right keys meant that the piano would sing for me a glorious tune. Pulling back the curtains meant I fed the chandelier and in turn, the chandelier told me a story full of color, full of life. As a child, I had no patience for such things. I never thought being alone could be satisfying. I always tried to get the attention of those around me, and sometimes it would work. When people wouldn't listen, I would go outside to tell the flowers about the adventures of my day. But too soon would the flowers die, and I would soon accept the concept of being alone.

Labels: fiction junction, The Vault

Love's weight

Jul 9, 2017 || 11:30 PM || comment?

Can I ask for my love to wait?

For a second to catch my breath.
For a moment to bide my time.
For a minute to gather my thoughts.
For an hour to write them down.
For a day to practice what I'll say.

Can I ask for you to wait?

For a second to hear me out?
For a moment to just sit down?
For a minute to listen to me say,
"For an hour together, I'll smile with you."
"For a day together, I'll feel love's weight."

Labels: fiction junction

death of a feeling

Jul 6, 2017 || 10:35 PM || comment?

Walking down the hallway, she advanced slowly, like moving through a space filled with agarose gel. Her limbs felt heavy, reluctant to continue forward despite her efforts. The dim glow of the lights from above guided her forward on this path, no visible doorways except for one at the very end of the hall. She knew that if she could make it there, the payoff would be rewarding. The silver bar across the door seemed to shine particularly bright, and as she drew near it was almost blinding. Upon reaching this only exit, she placed her left hand carefully on the bar, and with relative ease, she pushed it open.

Stumbling forward, the world no longer felt like a thick suspension, but rather light, and airless. Where she found herself was not outside, as she originally hoped, but in a square room, with no windows or other doors. She stepped in cautiously and the door closed behind her. She turned quickly as the door clicked shut. As she reached for the handle, it disappeared beneath her grasp, as did the door itself. She felt the wall, seamless where a frame once was. She turned back to face the empty vastness of the room.

A couple of steps forward, and she noticed a small thimble on the ground. She bent down to observe it. Rather than a dimpled, rounded ended, she found a sharp point. Taking the thimble in her hand, she placed it over her right index finger. A light glimmered off its pointed tip, yet there was no visible source for said light. Drawn to its gleam, she firmly pressed the point into the palm of her left hand. Blood quickly rose to the surface, and began pooling in her palm. Tilting slightly, the blood began to drop off the side of her hand. As the drops disconnected from the surface of her skin, they drifted slowly to the ground, transforming into petals in their descent.

She inhaled deeply, and lightly blew at the small pile of petals that gathered by her feet. They scattered about, flipping and twisting in wind of her breath. She reached for an errant petal, and as she made contact, the petal dissolved into a red fluid on her fingers. She brought the red stained digits to her lips, and licked at them cautiously. Strangely cold, yet the familiar taste of copper soothed her. She moved to gather the remaining petals, each turning back into blood at her touch. Soon her hands were covered with more red than she recalled losing, and the room started to grow dark. The floor beneath her feet became unstable, and she recalled the feeling of being in an earthquake. Unable to regain her bearings, she closed her eyes. Upon feeling a sharp tightness in her chest, she reopened her eyes, and was met with a darkness. As she laid in her bedroom, covers drawn close to her face, the ceiling fan hummed softly above.

Labels: fiction junction