This Life is a Dream – Eclectic Corner #6

The easel stood proudly before her, placed exactly where the artist’s eye would get the best view.  The empty canvass would have wriggled in excitement if it could, waiting for just one splash of colour to take away its starkness.

The woman rested back a moment in her chair.  The garden ahead gave its own glorious canvass of colour as the forest and fields behind created a nice backdrop, a small sigh escaped recently moisturised lips.

Mossy green eyes now took a leisurely look upon the multitude of squeezed tubes, brushes and array of artist’s tools, her slender pale fingers twitching, eager to start.  There was just the twitter of birds interrupted by the snore of a lazy house dog as the cat meandered back and forth between her legs.

The sun peeked its rays through the haze of branches, splintering in to more rays to dust upon the petals and grass, a smile creasing upon her lips as the warmth radiated through clement veins.  A splash of gold and russet found itself being placed upon the canvass, the emerging of what, she was not sure at this precise time, her art always morphing as the day went on.

Resting a moment after a few brushstrokes the wooden handle found itself twiddling and twisting between fingers like a baton, the clouds making an eager appearance nudging against the toasty rays,  drowning them out.

Saturated greenery suddenly became lacklustre as a shiver ran down her spine, the hairs of the brush now coated in darker and deeper shades, sweeping across  now wetter and more colourful canvas.

There was a tussle and a ruffle as the sun fought its way back, today was going to be one of those days.  Resting back in to her chair lids closed a moment, distractions always trying to pry her away from intended task as the warmth kissed her lips.

Memories floating back to that bar, the hustle and bustle of urban life, the opposite of her now rural existence.  That kiss, so different to the kiss of sunshine, that kiss that tasted of whisky and cigars, the stubble burning her skin as she gasped, surprising herself at the memory, it invoking tingles to rage through her body, goosebumps erupting everywhere.

Breathing in deeply, she resisted the necessity to open her eyes, enjoying the memory, though it had faded, another sigh, this one of disappointment.  Sadness swept through her veins, lashes lifting to survey rural surroundings once more.

A jolt went through her body at the crude sharp sound of a trilling bell, the phone, it obliterating any vestiges of memory, any moment of calm as she lifted up to go and answer it…..

© Justine Nagaur Eclecticoddsnsods.com

 

image: taken with my sister's Nook

image: taken with my sister’s Nook

With a shudder her eyes opened. The room was fuzzy and no matter what she tried she couldn’t bring it into focus. She blamed the dull throbbing in her head for that. And the way her body in general feels like it was soaked in a swimming pool for days rather than the normal two hours that she spends doing laps.

She has no idea why her head hurts like this because she’s never had a problem with headaches before. Whatever is causing it must also be the reason behind why her throat feels worse than any amount of congestion she’s ever had on top of swallowing a chicken bone.

“Miss Summers.”

She wondered just how she even got here.

“Miss Summers, can you hear me?”

She couldn’t even really remember the last thing she’d been doing-

“Miss Summers, if you can understand what I am saying blink once.”

She blinked as rapidly as possible when she realized that someone was speaking to her. Her vision was still very fuzzy so all she was seeing was a giant moving blob in neutral colors.

“I don’t think she’s quite awake enough yet, doctor.”

“Coming out from anesthesia can always through a person for a loop, nurse.”

“Let’s just hope that this one recovers better than the last patient we had in for this.”


This picture and little continuation of Justine’s story are in answer to her Eclectic Corner #6: Story & Photography prompt. I wasn’t sure what to write about today and I’m kind of dead tired as well (moving is not fun when you’r trying to pack up eight people and do other necessary stuff and you’re not even actually moving anything into the new house for about a week and a few days) so I was glad when she mentioned it to me. Thank you, Justine! You have saved me for the day.

I don’t remember the name of the painting or the artist, but it’s something my parents purchased in the first few years of their marriage before they had a bunch of kids. It was one of the first things to jump to mind while I was reading through the story prompt.

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Hindsight

There are days when I wonder if I will ever find peace.

Days when I sit and stare out the window and know that this will not last long.

Everything in my life has come at a price. At first, the price did not seem high; I simply had to leave home and though I would miss my brother and miss the trees of my youth, I knew that the life that was laid out before me was worth the cost.

How foolish those days seem now in hindsight.

I thought that he would hold me gently in his hands like the bird he’d been quickly whispering to when I first saw him. I was wrong. Oh, how I was wrong.

I look around at the cage I’m in and I know that it’s not even a gilded one to keep me safe in the comfort of my captivity.

If only I could go back in time and stop myself from letting him take me in his hand.

But I can’t.

There are things that my kind can do, crossing time and the space between one world and another is one of them, but to change our own timestream is something that I cannot do. I cannot go back to myself because it would do nothing. I would be invisible to myself and unable to make any kind of action that would change what has already happened.

My brother used to tell me stories about those that tried to change their own past and it never worked. They couldn’t even find a loophole to do so through another person. It just wouldn’t happen, no warnings or moves that could cause my doom to be turned from me. I couldn’t even go back and affect his timestream because that would affect my own.

I could do nothing about the past, about my past, but I could try and do something about my future. I can travel away from here should I be able to harness my own abilities in such a way that he doesn’t detect. He keeps close watch on my energies and everything that I can do. He makes things from my blood and my abilities. Makes himself rich and powerful while I am left with only enough to survive through the day and then the night.

My words have been silenced as there isn’t even enough in me to be able to speak words of power to focus what little life force I have to escape.

My husband certainly did his research before he captured his ‘pretty little bird.’

This little bird will peck her own eyes out if it will help me escape. I have seen enough animals gnaw their paws off in order to escape when necessary. I may hold the shape of a human but I am just as wild as the birds beyond my barred window.


This was actually a little work hat I started several months ago, but hadn’t been able to finish. I was inspired to finish it by the picture prompt from the First Monday prompt for the Light and Shade Challenge. Sorry it’s kind of depressing, but this little story universe is really sad in my head.

image: courtesy of Wiki commons, taken by monica navarro aranda and used under the Creative Commons Agreement

 

More Than A Way To Travel

 

image: courtesy of Wiki Commons and in the Public Domain

Sea winds cause my hair to billow
Even as I shut my eyes
To take in the scent and sounds,
 
Salt finds its way into every thing
And the taste permeates my mouth at all times.
I find that I don’t mind as much,
Loving the ocean more than makes it up.
 

Inspired by the Third Monday prompt from Light and Shade Challenge.

Average Guard Soldier

It had been a long time since she had heard from anyone and she often wondered if everything was going well in other parts of the Confederation of Systems. She was tired and parts of her ached in ways that would continue for the rest of her natural life however long that may be. (She was serving in the Solar Corp during a widespread war, her life could end within the next twenty minutes or she could, somehow, survive and live another forty years)

She wasn’t set to meet up with her commanding officer until that night when her current shift was over and though it was only within the next hour or so that it would happen she still felt that it was taking longer. She had only the barest of clock-calendars as she wasn’t high up enough in her regiment to require more exact measurements of time and place even if her equipment was better than it had been when she was just a foot soldier instead of a perimeter guard. She was kind of glad that she’d received even a small promotion, being a guard meant that she didn’t have to ride off into wherever they were sending her for however long. Instead she stayed near one of the camps and kept watch on a rotating basis.

The part of the corps that were usually here were on assignment and weren’t due back until the next morning.

Now if only she could find some way to pass the time without compromising her duties. Maybe those trees near the rock cliff could give her something to do after her shift…

image: Courtesy of Wiki Commons taken by Neovitaha777 and used according to the Creative Commons Agreement

 


This little snippet of writing was inspired by the picture from the Light and Shade Challenge. Today has been a bit of a slow day for me and yet the time is going by incredibly fast.

Peace-Centered Chaos

The lake was calm which was strange because the wind was howling and the clouds surged across the sky.

But the water in front of him in the lake was as calm as a pond in an indoor zen garden.

No waves, no stirrings from beneath when the sky and land all around him was in constant turmoil.

He wondered what it said about him that there was this deep pool of motionless calm within his mindscape while the actual ‘scape all around him was in chaos.

“It is because you are chosen.”

He didn’t whirl around and demand who was there, that would be childish and more like one of his pathetic cousins.

“Yessss, this is why you are chosen.”

Again the voice was accompanied by a surge in feeling, like he could do no wrong.

The lake in front of him remained placid as the ground rumbled louder and the sky let loose a flash of lightning.

“Come with me, my child.”

He smiled as he faded from his own mindscape, the lake finally showing movement if only in changing from the peaceful color of deep blue to a grey more associated with the smog-filled pollution of an enclosed valley.

He had a Mother to save.


Inspired by the picture for this last week’s Light and Shade Challenge picture prompt.

image: courtesy of freeimages.co.uk

 

Rebuilding the Ruins

It was a beautiful place, the green of the forest cradling the charred remains of the house, the steel beams that would have held it up under the worst of earthquakes still standing. The birds were chirping quietly overhead and there were squirrels and other wildlife moving through the ruins.

She looked up at it and remembered the laughter of the people who had lived there. The sound of children wrestling in the backyard and the smell of the food being cooked in the kitchen.

“You’re gone now, I have accepted it,” she whispered to the trees, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t rebuild.”

image: courtesy of Wikipedia Commons, taken by Johann H. Addicks – addicks@gmx.net used under the Creative Commons Agreement

Inspired by the Light and Shade Challenge.

 

Stratosphere Contemplations

She gazed below as the ground continued to move underneath her. She was high up in the atmosphere, mostly in the outer reaches of the Earth’s gravitational pull and yet still close enough to see as the planet turned.

‘It is so beautiful. I can see why my queen would do everything she could to protect this place.’

It was a view that she had seen millions of times throughout her life and it was likely that it would continue to be one that she sought during those times when she wanted to be alone. There were very few that could reach this height and not require some kind of equipment to either give them air or hold their position. She did both effortlessly and without much thought.

This wasn’t the first time she had sought this refuge since her sister was sent away and it wouldn’t be the last time either, but each time she came here, she was less melancholy and less prone to depression.

This was a very good thing. For someone with her abilities and responsibilities falling into a depression wasn’t just disastrous for herself, but for millions of other lives that not only depended on her to defend them, but for the generations that would come after. When someone, anyone fell into depression they lost track of time. She couldn’t afford to do something like that when what were months or years to others were centuries to her.

‘Maybe I should go on a short tour of our galactic region as Solaris has suggested. It would do me good to be away from the last place my sister and I were together on.’

With her mind made up, Star gave one last look down at the mountain range below before jetting off through the atmosphere back to her queen’s current abode.

image: courtesy of Wikipedia Commons taken by Bjoertvedt and used under the Creative Commons Agreement

 


Inspired by the current Light and Shade Challenge.