Thanks to Katarina Zirine for permission to use her beautiful "Love for You"!
Seriana swept her outstretched
fingers over the tall golden-red grass as she walked across the field under the
brilliant sunset colors of the clouded skies. Her shoulders twitched as her
gossamer wings fluttered behind her. Slender and clear, they would not carry
her for many moons, until she had chosen her life’s purpose. By then, they
would have stretched and grown thick and strong, bold and jewel-toned like her
mother’s, or delicately tinted like her sister’s.
“Why don’t males have wings?” she
had asked as a child. Her mother had laughed out loud, and her sister had
giggled behind her hands, but they didn’t have an answer that made any sense to
Seriana.
With no males in the House,
Seriana could only watch them from a distance. Her sister seemed incurious, but
she was about most things except their mother’s power. Seriana had no heart for
political games. She wanted to explore the world. She wanted to understand.
Everything.
Her childhood wings had withered
and fallen off two winters past. She had buried them and danced with her
crèche-mates under the next full moon, before she returned home to her mother’s
House for the first time. She missed her friends, their laughter, their play,
their touch.
Her mother only touched her to
spin her around after supper and examine her budding crystal wings. “Hmm,” she
would mutter, or a casual “Good” as she patted Seriana’s back, then turned
away. Seriana had dreamed of her mother’s love for as long as she could
remember. Now she cried herself to sleep at night and pined for her crèche.
A tall stalk of grass seed tucked
between her thumb and finger, jolting her from her reverie. She stripped the
seeds from the stalk in a smooth pull and held them in her palm. Looking up at
the moon, already glowing in the darkening sky, she made her first choice
toward her life’s purpose.
Sweeping aside her long golden
curls, she bent her lips closer. “I have love for you. Find me.” She blew the
delicate red seeds, and they fluttered into the air, opening into tiny hearts
as they drifted away. Unseen behind her, the edges of her clear wings faded to
a delicate ink, and then purple…
Dogs in House
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Houdini
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Music
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Sting, “St Agnes and the Burning Train” and “Fragile”
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Time writing
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~35 minutes
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May word
count
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9,796
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Writing report:
ReplyDeleteNovel editing, new text Ch13a.
Time: ~15min