So, I need to apologize. The next few days I’m probably only going to be able to post drabbles of fiction. This week is a little hectic for me and I don’t want to miss a day of posting. So short & sweet it is.
At least they’ll be quicker to read, not so lengthy 🙂
This next story is something completely new for me. It teeters on the erotic, so if that isn’t your cup of tea, you can turn away now. I’m also heavily considering turning this into a full-length novel one day. After I finish working on the other 101 ideas churning in my mind ;P
Anyway, December 5th is a very important day for me. It always has been, from the day I was born 😉 And every year, I wish for snow on it. Usually, there is. But this year… 😦 I think that’s part of what inspired this. So I hope you enjoy 🙂
Now, at last, without further ado, our fifth story…
The snow became my lover last night.
The day had been desolate, the whole of the city cast in a shadow of grey. The vibrant colours of the morn at dawn had lost their flair, replaced by the white mist of a torrent of snow.
I sat inside, secured and warm, watching the bleakness from a safe distance. Dread for the moment when I would have to embark into the storm of ash and dust built in the bit of my stomach. It churned, discomforting.
I prolonged my inevitable departure with the hope that the snow would dissipate. Despite the passing time, the storm refused to subside and so I set forth, crossing the sheltered threshold of the interior into the perils of the night blizzard.
At first, I reviled my plight, moving through the chill with reproachful eyes and the greatest yearning for a respite. I cursed my luck, cursed the weather. Enraged by my ire, the snow billowed around me, capturing my body in its cold, unyielding grasp. I fought through it, struggling like a woman from her assailant. It intended to have me, I realized, intended to take me whole as I walked. The harder I resisted the bitter cold, the tighter it grasped, pulling at me as if with a wrathful fury.
Finally, I could not go forward anymore. I sank onto my knees, prepared to submit myself to its will. It was then that its intensity waned.
Its grasp ceased to be one of force, becoming one instead of tenderness. The snow seemed to cradle me with gentle care, ensconcing me, each flake falling against my cheek like the kiss of a delicate lover.
Around me, it fell like a blanket, to cover me, protect me. Like longing arms, it enveloped my body. My hate was lifted, finding in these softer embraces a deep affection for the snow. I welcomed this gesture of passion and devotion, and embraced it.
My hands danced in the air, beckoning the torrent, becoming its love. As I did, its passion built. Stronger, almost fierce, it still retained some tenderness as it fell into me, claiming me, loving me.
In that moment when we became one, the snow took on a form, a human-like shape with no distinct features.
I clung to its tangible figure, craving it with a terrible need that I had never before experienced. I succumbed to its call and felt in its touch a familiarity I could not determine. Somehow I knew: I had felt these arms before, I had known this love in the past.
‘I have been waiting so long.’
That voice, no more than a whisper of wind in my ear, was recognizable too.
‘At last, I have found you again, Noel’
Though I could not conjure a face or image to match it, a name rose in my mind with the clarity of my own: ‘Eiron.’
The snow released me then and I fell back into white blanket of the street.
Then the world around me faded to black.
May inspiration flow like ink upon your quill,
© 2015. Faith Rivens.