Watchtower
She stands calmly at the edge of everything as the storm rolls in from the west. The clouds are frost-capped breakers, concealing a darker intent. The air is still. Waiting. She languishes in a sea of silence, undisturbed by the cries of birds. Ivy curls around her bulk, its tangled vines like clasped lover’s hands.
Wool over her eyes obscures the skies. Now and then a ghostly hand punctures the darkness, rustling the grass like sheared strands of Rapunzel’s hair. Every now and then a shining memory resonates within her, the sound of a child’s voice…
“Daddy, I’m scared.”
“There’s no need to be frightened, sweetheart. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”
A twig snaps in the brittle breeze, commanding her attention, and the remembrance vanishes like a soap bubble coming to rest on a fascinated finger. She never wanted this. She wishes she could scream, articulate the question that had filled her head for who knew how many pointless years: Why? The world had ended, so why hadn't she with it?
The chimes signal a warning, scattering her thoughts in the wind. She watches them twirl away, dancing arm in arm with the breeze. And as the last vestiges of her broken humanity recede from sight, she listens outside of Time for the whisper that will raze her to the ground. The echo of eternity alone.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
WA, Draft 2
Watchtower
She stands calmly at the edge of everything as the storm rolls in from the west. The clouds are frost-capped breakers, concealing a darker intent. The air is still. Waiting. She languishes in a sea of silence, undisturbed by the cries of birds. Ivy curls around her bulk, its tangled vines like clasped lovers hands.
Wool over her eyes obscures the skies. Now and then a ghostly hand punctures the darkness, rustling the grass like sheared strands of Rapunzel’s hair. A shining memory resonates within her, an iridescent soap bubble. The sound of a child’s voice.
“Daddy, look,” the girl sings, one stubby finger pointed at the sky. Her deep russet curls are slick with sweat and her silver eyes are bright. “God’s talking.”
A twig snaps in the brittle breeze, commanding her attention. She never wanted this. She wishes she could scream.
The chimes signal a warning, scattering her thoughts in the wind. She watches them twirl away, dancing arm in arm with the breeze. And as the last vestiges of her broken humanity recede from sight, she listens outside of Time for the whisper that will raze her to the ground. The echo of eternity alone.
She stands calmly at the edge of everything as the storm rolls in from the west. The clouds are frost-capped breakers, concealing a darker intent. The air is still. Waiting. She languishes in a sea of silence, undisturbed by the cries of birds. Ivy curls around her bulk, its tangled vines like clasped lovers hands.
Wool over her eyes obscures the skies. Now and then a ghostly hand punctures the darkness, rustling the grass like sheared strands of Rapunzel’s hair. A shining memory resonates within her, an iridescent soap bubble. The sound of a child’s voice.
“Daddy, look,” the girl sings, one stubby finger pointed at the sky. Her deep russet curls are slick with sweat and her silver eyes are bright. “God’s talking.”
A twig snaps in the brittle breeze, commanding her attention. She never wanted this. She wishes she could scream.
The chimes signal a warning, scattering her thoughts in the wind. She watches them twirl away, dancing arm in arm with the breeze. And as the last vestiges of her broken humanity recede from sight, she listens outside of Time for the whisper that will raze her to the ground. The echo of eternity alone.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
WA 2, Draft 1
Watchtower
She stands calmly at the edge of
everything
as the storm rolls in from the west.
the clouds are frost-capped breakers
concealing a darker intent.
The air is still
Waiting.
wool over her eyes
obscures the skies
but now and then
a ghostly hand
punctures the darkness
rustling the sheared strands
of Rapunzel’s hair.
A twig snaps
in the brittle breeze
the chimes signal a warning.
She listens
outside of Time
for the whisper
that will raze her to the ground
the echo of eternity
alone.
She stands calmly at the edge of
everything
as the storm rolls in from the west.
the clouds are frost-capped breakers
concealing a darker intent.
The air is still
Waiting.
wool over her eyes
obscures the skies
but now and then
a ghostly hand
punctures the darkness
rustling the sheared strands
of Rapunzel’s hair.
A twig snaps
in the brittle breeze
the chimes signal a warning.
She listens
outside of Time
for the whisper
that will raze her to the ground
the echo of eternity
alone.
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