these two pieces are the first of a series i plan to write, all set in the same room at different moments in time. i'm rubbish at plot, so i just want to try and catch moments. please comment - i'll love you forever


The star of her eye had fallen, and no amount of wishing was going to put it back. Its once bright light now glittered in the pool of tears that was spreading itself across the linoleum floor, mocking her with its arrogant sparkle. She tried to catch it, scrabbling at her own tears like a beggar after change, but she was too late. The star wasn’t even on the floor any more.

Despair pierced her heart, the silent streams of her tears became torrents, and an animal cry escaped from her throat to fracture the air. Her tiny body shook as a thousand heartbreaks and betrayals finally found voice.

As she cried the tears of a lifetime, her weary limbs found a new energy, and she began to pound the walls with her small fists, kicking holes in the skirting board. When her knuckles had become so bloodied that she was leaving red smears on the freshly painted walls, she pulled off her shoe and threw it across the room, barely hearing the falling notes of broken glass as it sailed straight through the closed window.

Suddenly, as though someone had flicked a switch deep inside of her, the violent sobs subsided and her arms fell limp at her sides. It was pointless. Exhausted, she curled herself up, back pressed against the jaundiced yellow of the wall, and let the tears dry on her cheeks. Her cold blue eyes stared vacantly out, seeing nothing but their own sorrow.

If she focused on her breathing, she thought, if she could only control one thing, then the world would stop falling down around her. Like the coffee which keeps spinning even after you’ve stopped stirring, her soul danced in circles, desperately trying to work out which way was up.

Closing her eyes, she rolled onto her back, spreading her arms wide as though preparing to embrace an invisible presence. “Where have you gone?” her soul cried out into the stillness, the unspoken words longing for an answer, “Why have you left me?”

A heartbeat later, a breath of wind blew in through the broken window, cooling the heat of her broken knuckles and raising a mountain range of goose pimples along her bare arms. And in that whisper of wind, she was sure she heard her answer – “I’m still here. I never left you and I never will.”

She folded her arms over her chest, holding that moment, that reassurance, that whispering presence, close. Her heart leapt, her mouth laughed, and her eyes opened. The star had returned.

------------------------------------------------------------------


In a little yellow room that could be anywhere at all, a woman dances.

The yellow paint gave up clinging to the wall long ago and fragile flakes now litter the cracked linoleum floor like sawdust or dandruff. What furniture there was is now on some lonely scrapyard, leaving nothing but dirty shadows on the peeling walls – sad reminders of a former life. The small heater which squats in one corner obstinately refuses to give out any heat, while the broken window spitefully welcomes in the cold. It is a miserable forgotten place, draped with cobwebs and carpeted with dust; a dark dank hole in the heart of the city.

But still she dances.

No one goes there anymore, and that makes it a refuge for her. It is the last bastion of stillness and silence, a final defence against the brash and brutal world that continually tries to drag her into its madness. It is the one place that belongs to her alone; the one place that is free from disapproving eyes and reprimanding tongues.

And so she dances.

Her feet smack against the hard floor, pounding out a rhythm – slow and unsteady at first, then quicker and more certain. Her usually clumsy body is endowed with a new grace and her slender arms slice through the cold dry air, spelling out her secret shames and desires in a strange romantic tongue, reaching for that something that always escapes her grasp.

Alone, she dances.

But as she dances, she no longer feels her loneliness. She hears the voices and the tears and the laughter that have filled the room in years gone by, and she feels the love and the pain and the joy that have soaked deep into the walls, and that comforts her. Just for that moment, she knows that she is not alone – others have been there before her and others will come again, and in some way they are all one. Even if the world forgets, the room will remember them, and that is something. She starts to spin now, arms raised high and head thrown back, laughing with relief.

Tomorrow she will cry, but for now she dances.

_________________
<center>

**MY BOOK**

~ proud to be a shieldmaiden for christ ~</center>

Wow! I loved them!

I really like all the ways you describe things and the metaphos you use are so unique.

The second one was almost a poem even, very poetic sounding and both very nicely written and emotionally charged. Excelent job

_________________




Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

_________________

^Sig set made by me. PM for requests.

"I am he [she =P] that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death."

thanks, guys. i'm still working on them, so i may post an update at some point.

_________________
<center>

**MY BOOK**

~ proud to be a shieldmaiden for christ ~</center>

Keep writing! You do a great job and I am sure you will only get better. I'll watch for updates

_________________




Visit The Varsian Kingdom!