Joyce Wycoff's Blog, page 2
March 9, 2016
Symbolism: Firefly
Firefly has the ability to shine. Normally a rather dull and uninteresting creature, at night it gives off a magical light that captivates us. It is a reminder that it is what is inside us, our spirit, that illuminates the world around us. While the firefly uses its light to attract a mate, it reminds us that it is our own light that attracts people and circumstances to us. One person who studies the meaning of things states, "When fireflies come into our lives they are there to guide us to ways of living that are more earth-friendly, and soul-friendly. Fireflies teach us the value of living simply, and relying on our own inner voices for illumination. Fireflies also come to us with a message of creativity, and remind us that our paths are made lighter by the beauty that we allow into our lives.” — See more here.
In this story, what do you think the firefly is trying to do?
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March 2, 2016
Chapter 8: Finding Tia
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send to joycewycoff@gmail.com.
Sarana's GiftChapter 8: Finding Tia(Available here until 4/13/2016)
The rushing sound of water grew louder as I approached the edge of the trees. Pushing through the tangled vines and undergrowth, I discovered a blush-red stream cascading over boulders and made my way along the river, climbing over the pale rocks and wading through pink pools. A steep, honeycombed bank formed the far side of the river and the sky had turned dull brown by the time I found a crevice deep enough to be a cavern.
Clouds of bats flying around the opening made me think this was the right cave. I dreaded walking through those bats into that dark place but thought it might be the only way to find the lost blue. I took one last look at the hideous oranges, reds and yellows behind me.
“I miss blue,” I thought and tried to imagine blue: the neon blue butterfly, the endless ocean, a summer sky broken by billowing white clouds. I struggled as blue grew dimmer, even in my own mind.
Bats swooped around the entrance and sweat poured down my face as I forced my legs to run into that cave, sweeping my arms over my head to keep the bats from landing on me.
Dark. And wet. Colorless. However, it did offer a cool respite from that harsh, hot world of orange. Except for the bats, which continued to fly around me, the cavern calmed me. The barely visible path wound through dark tunnels, occasionally lit by shafts of light that dropped glints of gold onto the stream that glided silently through the darkness. Splashes startled me even though I never saw the fish or creatures that made the sounds. Once again I found myself in a shadowy place with no choice except to keep moving forward.
The path twisted and turned, this way and that until I rounded a corner and wound up in a large grotto. “Food! I smell food.” My voice cracked as hunger overcame me and I peered into the shadows of the dim room until I spotted the pale flames of a fire and someone sitting beyond it.
“Long enough.” A raspy, ancient voice commanded, “Come. Sit. Eat.”
I went toward the light where a woman bent over the fire. She seemed tiny, but it was hard to tell. Something about her loomed large, huge even, like a giantess disguised as a gnome. She handed me a bowl of soup and a chunk of bread. I grabbed the bowl and forgot about her looks and her until she spoke again.
“Work now?” she grunted even before I finished the soup. Her voice grated and her gaze flitted nervously about the darkened room.
“Time wasted already,” she said, sounding fearful and cross.
I looked down at my soup, feeling like a child being scolded for being late. “Are you Tia?”
“Certly. Think I am other?” she asked in an impatient voice.
“Eat now. We go.”
“Go where?” I asked.
“Find blue, certly. Why else?”
“I’m, ... I’m not sure.”
“Not sure?” She narrowed her eyes as she stared at me. “You walk through pain?
I nodded, assuming she referred to the ghastly, orange world.
“You see fever in trees?”
Again, I nodded.
“Your eyes shut?” She practically spat out these last words.
“No ... no. I just don’t understand. What happened to the blue?”
Tia drew a deep breath. “Melek. Great god. Blue Peacock god. Jealous. Suck blue from world.”
I stopped eating long enough to listen as the broken pieces of the story came together.
“So you’re saying that Melek is a god so jealous and evil, and powerful enough that he could steal a whole color and withhold it from the world?”
She continued, “Blue belong Melek only. Not people.”
“Astonishing. How are you supposed to get it back?” I asked, sopping up the last of the soup with a bit of bread.
“Pluck feather.”
I jerked to attention at that preposterous idea. “You’re going to pluck a feather from a powerful god?”
“No,” she said and paused, looking at me. “You!”
“Me!” I shouted and stood up. Crazy! How could I pluck a feather from a god? Especially a jealous and evil god. I spun around to leave this mad woman.
“Stop!” the old woman commanded and my feet froze to the floor. I tried to pull free but couldn’t budge.
“Only you.” She poked her finger at my chest. “Wear blue.”
I looked down and grasped the amulet. No other color could be seen in the low light of the cave, but my amulet glowed turquoise blue. I shook my head, confused, “I ... I didn’t know.”
Tia came close to me, the deep wrinkles of her face softening. She touched the amulet and said, “Power of Ix Chel.”
Ix Chel, again. Who or what is this Ix Chel?
Before I could ask, Tia jabbed my chest and said, “You. Fearless. Courageous. Return blue.”
“What? How am I supposed to return blue? I don’t even know what that means.”
“You know. Must remember. We go. Now.”
“Where are we going? What am I supposed to remember?”
Tia pushed me toward a tunnel on the side of the grotto. “Go. Den of Blue Peacock god. Get feather.”
“I’m just supposed to walk up to him and pull a feather out of his backside?” I asked, stumbling along as she pushed me.
Tia shook her head and howled. “No! Danger!”
“Wake angry. Thunderbolts.” Her eyes bulged and her voice sounded strangled, scared as she continued. “Ground shake. Walls fall. All die.”
“Are you saying if I wake him up, everyone will die?”
“Every one. Every thing. Even time.”
I shuddered. “It’s impossible. I can’t just pluck a feather from a god without waking him.”
“You know. Remember.” Tia grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the stream where we stepped into a wooden canoe. She sat in the back and held a long, carved oar. A tan robe covered her from her neck to her ankles and a brown scarf wound around her head. She matched the colorless room.
Tia paddled without sound through the quiet water. My mind and body had gone numb. I had no more questions. The task was impossible. We would all die. The world would end. Time was going to be extinguished just because I couldn’t do something that couldn’t be done. An angry, jealous god who wanted to hoard blue was going to destroy the world and I couldn’t stop him.
Tia paddled for a long time without speaking until I saw a faint glow in the distance. She motioned for me to be quiet as we glided to the bank, stepped out and entered an opening where I could hear the rumble of snoring that shook the air.
Tia took a deep breath and pushed me into the sleeping room, the sleeping room of a god. Not just any god. The Blue Peacock god.
The room where I had to do the impossible or the world would end.
Sarana's GiftChapter 8: Finding Tia(Available here until 4/13/2016)
The rushing sound of water grew louder as I approached the edge of the trees. Pushing through the tangled vines and undergrowth, I discovered a blush-red stream cascading over boulders and made my way along the river, climbing over the pale rocks and wading through pink pools. A steep, honeycombed bank formed the far side of the river and the sky had turned dull brown by the time I found a crevice deep enough to be a cavern.
Clouds of bats flying around the opening made me think this was the right cave. I dreaded walking through those bats into that dark place but thought it might be the only way to find the lost blue. I took one last look at the hideous oranges, reds and yellows behind me.
“I miss blue,” I thought and tried to imagine blue: the neon blue butterfly, the endless ocean, a summer sky broken by billowing white clouds. I struggled as blue grew dimmer, even in my own mind.
Bats swooped around the entrance and sweat poured down my face as I forced my legs to run into that cave, sweeping my arms over my head to keep the bats from landing on me.
Dark. And wet. Colorless. However, it did offer a cool respite from that harsh, hot world of orange. Except for the bats, which continued to fly around me, the cavern calmed me. The barely visible path wound through dark tunnels, occasionally lit by shafts of light that dropped glints of gold onto the stream that glided silently through the darkness. Splashes startled me even though I never saw the fish or creatures that made the sounds. Once again I found myself in a shadowy place with no choice except to keep moving forward.
The path twisted and turned, this way and that until I rounded a corner and wound up in a large grotto. “Food! I smell food.” My voice cracked as hunger overcame me and I peered into the shadows of the dim room until I spotted the pale flames of a fire and someone sitting beyond it.
“Long enough.” A raspy, ancient voice commanded, “Come. Sit. Eat.”
I went toward the light where a woman bent over the fire. She seemed tiny, but it was hard to tell. Something about her loomed large, huge even, like a giantess disguised as a gnome. She handed me a bowl of soup and a chunk of bread. I grabbed the bowl and forgot about her looks and her until she spoke again.
“Work now?” she grunted even before I finished the soup. Her voice grated and her gaze flitted nervously about the darkened room.
“Time wasted already,” she said, sounding fearful and cross.
I looked down at my soup, feeling like a child being scolded for being late. “Are you Tia?”
“Certly. Think I am other?” she asked in an impatient voice.
“Eat now. We go.”
“Go where?” I asked.
“Find blue, certly. Why else?”
“I’m, ... I’m not sure.”
“Not sure?” She narrowed her eyes as she stared at me. “You walk through pain?
I nodded, assuming she referred to the ghastly, orange world.
“You see fever in trees?”
Again, I nodded.
“Your eyes shut?” She practically spat out these last words.
“No ... no. I just don’t understand. What happened to the blue?”
Tia drew a deep breath. “Melek. Great god. Blue Peacock god. Jealous. Suck blue from world.”
I stopped eating long enough to listen as the broken pieces of the story came together.
“So you’re saying that Melek is a god so jealous and evil, and powerful enough that he could steal a whole color and withhold it from the world?”
She continued, “Blue belong Melek only. Not people.”
“Astonishing. How are you supposed to get it back?” I asked, sopping up the last of the soup with a bit of bread.
“Pluck feather.”
I jerked to attention at that preposterous idea. “You’re going to pluck a feather from a powerful god?”
“No,” she said and paused, looking at me. “You!”
“Me!” I shouted and stood up. Crazy! How could I pluck a feather from a god? Especially a jealous and evil god. I spun around to leave this mad woman.
“Stop!” the old woman commanded and my feet froze to the floor. I tried to pull free but couldn’t budge.
“Only you.” She poked her finger at my chest. “Wear blue.”
I looked down and grasped the amulet. No other color could be seen in the low light of the cave, but my amulet glowed turquoise blue. I shook my head, confused, “I ... I didn’t know.”
Tia came close to me, the deep wrinkles of her face softening. She touched the amulet and said, “Power of Ix Chel.”
Ix Chel, again. Who or what is this Ix Chel?
Before I could ask, Tia jabbed my chest and said, “You. Fearless. Courageous. Return blue.”
“What? How am I supposed to return blue? I don’t even know what that means.”
“You know. Must remember. We go. Now.”
“Where are we going? What am I supposed to remember?”
Tia pushed me toward a tunnel on the side of the grotto. “Go. Den of Blue Peacock god. Get feather.”
“I’m just supposed to walk up to him and pull a feather out of his backside?” I asked, stumbling along as she pushed me.
Tia shook her head and howled. “No! Danger!”
“Wake angry. Thunderbolts.” Her eyes bulged and her voice sounded strangled, scared as she continued. “Ground shake. Walls fall. All die.”
“Are you saying if I wake him up, everyone will die?”
“Every one. Every thing. Even time.”
I shuddered. “It’s impossible. I can’t just pluck a feather from a god without waking him.”
“You know. Remember.” Tia grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the stream where we stepped into a wooden canoe. She sat in the back and held a long, carved oar. A tan robe covered her from her neck to her ankles and a brown scarf wound around her head. She matched the colorless room.
Tia paddled without sound through the quiet water. My mind and body had gone numb. I had no more questions. The task was impossible. We would all die. The world would end. Time was going to be extinguished just because I couldn’t do something that couldn’t be done. An angry, jealous god who wanted to hoard blue was going to destroy the world and I couldn’t stop him.
Tia paddled for a long time without speaking until I saw a faint glow in the distance. She motioned for me to be quiet as we glided to the bank, stepped out and entered an opening where I could hear the rumble of snoring that shook the air.
Tia took a deep breath and pushed me into the sleeping room, the sleeping room of a god. Not just any god. The Blue Peacock god.
The room where I had to do the impossible or the world would end.
February 17, 2016
Chapter 7: Lost Blue
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send to joycewycoff@gmail.com.
Sarana's GiftChapter 7: Lost Blue(Available here until 3/30/2016)
MavernaExhausted, I wrapped the rainbow cloth around my shoulders and sat with my arms around my knees. I glanced up and down the beach, questions jumbling through my head, “Find Tia? Lost blue? Bats? Where am I supposed to go? What am I doing here?”
For a long time I just sat there, trying to figure out what Turtle Mother and Maverna meant with their words. Then, far down the beach, a flash of blue caught my attention. I stood up and started walking toward it.
On a broken shell, a morpho blue butterfly sat drying itself in the warm sun. Startled by my approach, it fluttered off down the beach. I followed it.
I walked along the tide line watching the butterfly. Sometimes it would rest on a bit of kelp or driftwood, then fly off again when I got close. On and on I wandered behind it until it flew away from the water and disappeared into a dense stand of trees. Even though they looked dark and impenetrable, I headed that direction.
“It feels like I’m being pulled toward something. Just like when I found the turtle babies that needed help.” For a moment I remembered the feeling of standing up to that giant dragon and then laughed. “You mean that kitten,” I muttered.
“Not when I stood up to it,” I said, arguing with myself, as a vision of that horrible mouth dripping yellow yolk burst into my mind. I shuddered as I remembered its huge and terrible mouth as it ate the turtle eggs.
The argument ended when I saw the butterfly flit into the forest, out of sight. I hurried to catch up as the light grew dimmer and the woods thicker. The trees were short but their sandpapery, dark green leaves formed a canopy so dense only tiny patches of the sky could be seen. A fleck of blue blipped across the path and I quickened my pace.
As I walked farther into the jungle, things changed with each step. First, an odd orangish cast to the sky, then the reappearance of the neon blue butterfly, now paled to an almost translucent, bluish gray. Soon, bleached out trees with mud-yellow leaves surrounded me and I saw bright bits of red flying through the dusty wash of the forest. Birds apparently, but even their song and the sounds around me squeaked and rasped as if they didn’t quite fit together.
My head bobbled, as if disconnected, unhinged by the strangeness and my stomach churned. “It’s all wrong,” I murmured.
The butterfly, now black and a blotchy, butterscotch tone, darted across the path once again. I rubbed my throat and chest trying to soothe the growing nausea before following its erratic pattern which soon led me to the edge of a meadow.
I stopped, shocked. I had never seen a meadow like this before: all harsh oranges and reds and yellows. The sky ranged from tangerine orange to the palest ashy blonde while the trees behind me now formed a dark, rusty brown barrier. What I didn’t see anywhere was blue, or green.
Spinning around in that red-orange world, certain that something had gone wrong, I kept turning while everything grew hotter. Confusion tumbled my stomach and bile rose up in my throat. Sweating, I searched for something that looked normal. Nothing. Nausea and heat flooded through me and my chest pounded.
I wanted to scream and run away. But where? The meadow stretched endless around me and the path into the trees behind me had disappeared. I didn’t know where I was or how to get away. I didn’t know what to do.
I could feel it getting hotter.
So I ran. First one way and then another, desperate to find something, some place normal or safe. Nothing. No way out of that garish, disturbing color and heat.
I collapsed on to the revolting, mustard-colored grass which scorched my skin. My chest heaved as I pulled the rainbow cloth over my head for protection from the heat and wept. My body shook as the feeling of being lost forever in this terrifying place overwhelmed me. I sobbed, out of control, gasping for breath. The hot air burned my chest. “I just want to be somewhere safe,” I choked. “I want to be home.”
“Home.” The thought caught in my throat as I rocked back and forth trying to get control of the fear and panic. Then Turtle Mother’s slow, gentle voice returned and I remembered her words: “turn ... fear ... around.” I had turned fear around when I faced the dragon, but how could I turn fear around here in this burnt orange world where the brutal heat attacked me and everything around me?
My breathing labored with the harsh heat as I remembered more words from Turtle Mother, “blue lost … ix chel knows.”
I searched the trees, the sky, the curling fried grass below me. All wrong. Nothing green. Nothing blue. Nothing but hot wind sucking life out of a burnt red world. “Is this what she meant by lost blue? How can that be?” I wondered.
Sheltering myself with the rainbow cloth, I turned around, aghast at the bizarre, mango-colored clouds floating through an ochre sky.
Suddenly a movement at the edge of the woods caught my attention. Maverna. Her tawny body seemed familiar and natural in spite of the bizarre-hued jungle. She told me she would always be with me and I felt comforted by her presence.
Maverna didn’t move but her words found me, “Inside you is a place where nothing is impossible. Find it.”
“Right. Just find it,” I muttered. “Easy for you to say,” I thought, as sweat trickled down my neck and the angry color burned my eyes.
Maverna receded back into the woods, but just having her close helped me relax although my body still trembled with fear. Even though nothing made sense, I now understood that somehow blue had been lost from the world.
I needed to do something. I needed to find Tia and that cave with the bats.
“Where could it be?” I turned in all directions to study the still alarming red-orange world. In the distance I could see a line of cocoa-colored trees. Unlike the strange ones behind me, these felt vaguely familiar even with their unusual color. I headed toward them.
Sarana's GiftChapter 7: Lost Blue(Available here until 3/30/2016)
MavernaExhausted, I wrapped the rainbow cloth around my shoulders and sat with my arms around my knees. I glanced up and down the beach, questions jumbling through my head, “Find Tia? Lost blue? Bats? Where am I supposed to go? What am I doing here?”For a long time I just sat there, trying to figure out what Turtle Mother and Maverna meant with their words. Then, far down the beach, a flash of blue caught my attention. I stood up and started walking toward it.
On a broken shell, a morpho blue butterfly sat drying itself in the warm sun. Startled by my approach, it fluttered off down the beach. I followed it.
I walked along the tide line watching the butterfly. Sometimes it would rest on a bit of kelp or driftwood, then fly off again when I got close. On and on I wandered behind it until it flew away from the water and disappeared into a dense stand of trees. Even though they looked dark and impenetrable, I headed that direction.
“It feels like I’m being pulled toward something. Just like when I found the turtle babies that needed help.” For a moment I remembered the feeling of standing up to that giant dragon and then laughed. “You mean that kitten,” I muttered.
“Not when I stood up to it,” I said, arguing with myself, as a vision of that horrible mouth dripping yellow yolk burst into my mind. I shuddered as I remembered its huge and terrible mouth as it ate the turtle eggs.
The argument ended when I saw the butterfly flit into the forest, out of sight. I hurried to catch up as the light grew dimmer and the woods thicker. The trees were short but their sandpapery, dark green leaves formed a canopy so dense only tiny patches of the sky could be seen. A fleck of blue blipped across the path and I quickened my pace.
As I walked farther into the jungle, things changed with each step. First, an odd orangish cast to the sky, then the reappearance of the neon blue butterfly, now paled to an almost translucent, bluish gray. Soon, bleached out trees with mud-yellow leaves surrounded me and I saw bright bits of red flying through the dusty wash of the forest. Birds apparently, but even their song and the sounds around me squeaked and rasped as if they didn’t quite fit together.
My head bobbled, as if disconnected, unhinged by the strangeness and my stomach churned. “It’s all wrong,” I murmured.
The butterfly, now black and a blotchy, butterscotch tone, darted across the path once again. I rubbed my throat and chest trying to soothe the growing nausea before following its erratic pattern which soon led me to the edge of a meadow.
I stopped, shocked. I had never seen a meadow like this before: all harsh oranges and reds and yellows. The sky ranged from tangerine orange to the palest ashy blonde while the trees behind me now formed a dark, rusty brown barrier. What I didn’t see anywhere was blue, or green.
Spinning around in that red-orange world, certain that something had gone wrong, I kept turning while everything grew hotter. Confusion tumbled my stomach and bile rose up in my throat. Sweating, I searched for something that looked normal. Nothing. Nausea and heat flooded through me and my chest pounded.
I wanted to scream and run away. But where? The meadow stretched endless around me and the path into the trees behind me had disappeared. I didn’t know where I was or how to get away. I didn’t know what to do.
I could feel it getting hotter.
So I ran. First one way and then another, desperate to find something, some place normal or safe. Nothing. No way out of that garish, disturbing color and heat.
I collapsed on to the revolting, mustard-colored grass which scorched my skin. My chest heaved as I pulled the rainbow cloth over my head for protection from the heat and wept. My body shook as the feeling of being lost forever in this terrifying place overwhelmed me. I sobbed, out of control, gasping for breath. The hot air burned my chest. “I just want to be somewhere safe,” I choked. “I want to be home.”
“Home.” The thought caught in my throat as I rocked back and forth trying to get control of the fear and panic. Then Turtle Mother’s slow, gentle voice returned and I remembered her words: “turn ... fear ... around.” I had turned fear around when I faced the dragon, but how could I turn fear around here in this burnt orange world where the brutal heat attacked me and everything around me?
My breathing labored with the harsh heat as I remembered more words from Turtle Mother, “blue lost … ix chel knows.”
I searched the trees, the sky, the curling fried grass below me. All wrong. Nothing green. Nothing blue. Nothing but hot wind sucking life out of a burnt red world. “Is this what she meant by lost blue? How can that be?” I wondered.
Sheltering myself with the rainbow cloth, I turned around, aghast at the bizarre, mango-colored clouds floating through an ochre sky.
Suddenly a movement at the edge of the woods caught my attention. Maverna. Her tawny body seemed familiar and natural in spite of the bizarre-hued jungle. She told me she would always be with me and I felt comforted by her presence.
Maverna didn’t move but her words found me, “Inside you is a place where nothing is impossible. Find it.”
“Right. Just find it,” I muttered. “Easy for you to say,” I thought, as sweat trickled down my neck and the angry color burned my eyes.
Maverna receded back into the woods, but just having her close helped me relax although my body still trembled with fear. Even though nothing made sense, I now understood that somehow blue had been lost from the world.
I needed to do something. I needed to find Tia and that cave with the bats.
“Where could it be?” I turned in all directions to study the still alarming red-orange world. In the distance I could see a line of cocoa-colored trees. Unlike the strange ones behind me, these felt vaguely familiar even with their unusual color. I headed toward them.
February 3, 2016
Chapter 6: Danger!
Sarana's Gift has launched! I hope you enjoy reading this chapter and I would love to hear your comments and thoughts about the story. The next chapter will post on 2/17/2016. Or, you can click the Buy the Book button and enjoy the entire story at your own pace.
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send to joycewycoff@gmail.com.
Sarana's GiftChapter 6: Danger!(Available here until 3/16/2016)
Dragon from fanpop.com Turtle Mother’s words grew dim and I was so tired only the breaking of the waves lapping at the shore filled my ears. I watched the turtle mothers crawling toward their nesting areas. Hundreds of heavy laden bodies moved slowly, trancelike, following the call deep within.
Inland, at the high tide line, turtle mothers sat by their nests, pink eggs glistening as the mothers tossed sand over them. Other nests remained empty, sand clouds flying as the mothers created hollows that would hold their clutches of eggs.
In an older nest, hatchlings frantically swam up the sandy mound, tumbling over each other as they started their daunting journey to the sea. Mesmerized, I watched one tiny turtle climb up and slide back time after time, gradually left behind by its nest mates.
Watching it slide back again, I held my breath and leaned in as if to give it strength to reach the top. When it finally scrabbled its way up the bank and slid down the other side toward the open water, I sighed. “Safe.”
My eyes felt heavy and I drifted as the sun rose and the sand warmed ...
Splash! Suddenly I was alert again. A mammoth creature with a spiked back undulated through the surf, moving quickly toward the nests. “Dragon!” I thought and stood up. Covered with blazing plates from its tail all the way to its enormous head, it shook the earth as it moved.
The gaping mouth was red, blood-red and horrible. The beast lumbered toward the turtle nests. I froze, horrified as I watched the savage claws scoop up a nest and shove a clutch of eggs into that vast, red mouth. The massive paw swiped for more. Faster and faster it plundered the nests until yoke-yellow drool dripped from that scarlet mouth.
Soon a horrible keening ripped through the air, rising above the chaos. The anguished sound of the turtle mothers swept across the beach in waves as more and more nests disappeared into that cavernous mouth.
Stunned, I was unable to move, unable to look away. I shook myself, remembering that one tiny turtle, struggling so hard to leave the nest and begin its journey. “I have to do something,” I thought. “But what? What can I possibly do?” The sound of the mothers mourning over their dying babies ripped through my heart.
Behind the sickening keening, came another sound, first a low growl, then a growing wail, sand paper coarse and primal, “hunger … hunger … hunger!”
On and on the growl pulsed in between the monstrous slurping as the beast filled its gaping mouth with eggs … "Stop," I whispered as I rose.
That monstrous blood-red mouth turned toward me and roared. I fell back as its fiery eyes locked onto me and blasted hot breath my way. It roared again, a terrifying sound that drowned out the wailing of the turtle mothers.
“Hunger! … Hunger! … Hunger!”
Louder and louder the beast roared as it stomped closer. The ground shook with every step. A rush of its putrid, sulfurous breath made me gag.
Frantically, I looked around for something to stop it. Nothing. There was nothing that would stop this massive beast. “I am too small, too powerless. It’s impossible,” I thought.
There was nothing I could do but run, run away from this terrible creature. I turned and ran as far and as fast as I could. With the beast still thudding closer and closer, I stumbled and crab crawled across the sand. The horrible keening of the mothers grew louder.
“The babies!” I moaned. Wildly, I scanned the beach hoping to see someone who could help. No one. Without thinking, I clasped the turquoise amulet and remembered that one baby turtle struggling to survive.
“I must do something,” I said and stood up. I took a deep breath and turned back, running toward the beast and the babies. “I have to save the babies somehow! But how? ... How?” The beast had stopped and was hulking over another nest, digging his paw under the eggs.
“voice ...”
I stopped and my head snapped around at the sound of that word, but there was no one there except the turtles and that beast. Again, “use ... voice ....” sounded and, as I heard more words, I recognized Turtle Mother’s urging.
“Use voice,” I thought, repeating her words. “That doesn’t make any sense.” But, still I moved toward the beast until it lifted that horrible head again. Those fiery eyes blasted me again and I stopped in place, glancing down the open beach. “I can still escape,” I thought.
A wave of keening spun me around, back toward the monster. I raised both arms as high as I could and yelled, "Stop!"
This time, my voice was so loud it surprised even me. I felt taller, braver. I was looking the beast directly in its hideous eyes while that violent red mouth kept biting the air and growling. Its teeth were boulders and its talons sharpened spikes.
“Stop!” I yelled again even louder. The beast was now so close a furnace of heat blasted my face. Abruptly another word sounded in my head … “sing.” Turtle Mother again.
"What?" I gasped as the beast lurched closer.
"sing ... winter daughter … sing."
“Sing?” I cried, confused. Sing to this beast? Sing what? I staggered backward away from it.
Lurching closer and closer, It was now just a few yards away from me. It rose up to its full height, towering over me.
“look deep … see truth.” The voice again.
Truth? I backed away as fast as I could. What truth could there possibly be in that blood-red mouth? Again I heard that ghastly growl and saw that murderous mouth, dripping egg as it stomped toward me …
Hun ... ger!”
I stretched up as tall as I could. Everything inside me calmed as I flung my arms wide, opened my mouth and heard words that I didn’t recognize: a song that seemed to come from another place. In a thin, hesitant voice I sang ...
Oh, great Maverna, born with hunger fierce,
I know your name and from where you came,
Your home, wind-scorched and barren,
Your fear rustles like dry, dusty leaves,
Words kept pouring out of me, words I didn’t know yet somehow seemed like my own. With each word, my voice grew stronger and the beast slowed, waving its fierce head from side to side.
Your mouth gapes wide, sucking, sucking,
Your fingers grasping, searching, digging,
Your eyes wind-blind. Oh, poor Maverna,
Searching forever for the Mother of your heart.
The beast stopped. It cocked its powerful head, listening, then shook it slightly as if to shake away confusion. The volcano-red eyes dimmed and I heard a mournful moan when I continued.
Oh sweet Maverna, bastard child of hunger,
Mother’s milk, unripe and watered,
Not enough. Not sweet enough,
Not nourishing enough; just not enough.
The massive head lowered and its eyes softened as it gazed directly at me. In spite of my fear, I felt a connection.
Oh my Maverna, caught between light and dark,
Struggling toward light, seduced by dark,
Come back to the light, let the gaping hole within
Be healed and overflow with honeyed joy.
The fire drained from the beast’s eyes and the growling became a whimper. I walked a few steps toward the mewling dragon. It turned its now carmel-colored, woeful eyes on me, and without thinking I touched its forehead. Immediately it began to shrink and those golden plates disappeared one by one down its back.
The beast gradually grew smaller and smaller until there was nothing left except a tawny, spotted, jaguar kitten that simpered softly and licked my fingers. I stepped back, shocked, “How could a powerful dragon turn into this tiny kitten?
The kitten mewled again and I heard words, “Your song set me free.”
I blinked but stood still, not sure what to do. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “I will tell you the story. One dark night evil Xtabay, in a fit of lustful jealousy of my beautiful and graceful mother, turned her milk to water and then stole me away before my weaning. He cast a spell of endless hunger over me.”
Sadness sounded in Maverna’s voice as she gazed off toward the field of turtle mothers. “That hunger was an unquenchable fire that turned me into that evil thing. Now I am free to be my true self.”
She continued her story, “Because all spells must include a spell breaker, the evil ensnarer wove one he thought would never come to pass.
“The only way his spell could be broken would be if a singer whose courage was greater than fear sang my name in a song of compassion. With your courage, you have released me. Now it’s time to find my way back home and to my destiny.”
I watched as Maverna turned and loped toward the forest. My feelings were mixed
as the lithe, powerful body disappeared. I was still shaking, but proud that I stood up to my fear and released her from that horrible spell. I was happy that the turtle babies were safe, but I still didn’t know where I was or why. “How will I ever find ... ”
Suddenly, Maverna startled me. “You’re ... you’re back!” I gasped. She was so close to my face that I could feel her warm breath.
“Courage ... ” she panted, continuing in broken phrases. “... you faced fear ... you set me free ... .”
Maverna had changed. She was now almost fully grown and her eyes were bright and confident. “Now kin ... kin to jaguar ... Must find Tia. ... Find cave of bats. You will know fear ... your heart will guide you. I will be with you.”
Gone again before I could speak, I was astonished at her sudden reappearance and puzzled by her message. I didn’t want to go find some cave of bats. “Who’s Tia and why do I have to find her?”
I stood up and yelled to the jungle around me. “I don’t want more fear. I want to find someplace safe.” I scanned the beach for a long time holding the turquoise stone at my breast and looking for a sign about which way to go. I was tired and still dazed as I saw Turtle Mother crawl across the sand toward me. Her thoughts floated to me as she grew close. "good ... saved ... babies."
I sighed, "But, he took so many."
"many more come ... safe now."
Behind me the turtle mothers were tossing sand again. “That’s right,” I thought. “Stopping that beast seemed impossible, but I did it.” I frowned, still wondering how.
“turned ... fear ... around” breathed Turtle Mother and I wondered if she had heard my thoughts.
Turtle Mother gazed into my eyes, as if probing for something, searching, seeking. Then her slow words started, “true daughter ... .” She blinked her black, slanted eyes and more words came, "ix chel ... walk in rainbow … see right path … always."
"Ix Chel? What’s that?" I was confused by her words and tried to get her to say more but she only turned away. A few more words trailed behind her, "go … blue lost … ix chel knows."
I took a step after her. “Blue? Lost?” I called.
But, it was too late; she was crawling away. In the sand behind her, she left an iridescent trail imprinted by a cross-hatched pattern that reminded me of butterflies. When I reached down to touch the sand print left by her retreating claws, I realized it was a cloth, finely woven and opalescent.
When I rubbed the soft material against my cheek, rainbows danced all around me. Turtle Mother spoke again as she disappeared over a sand dune, "turn … fear … around."
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send to joycewycoff@gmail.com.
Sarana's GiftChapter 6: Danger!(Available here until 3/16/2016)
Dragon from fanpop.com Turtle Mother’s words grew dim and I was so tired only the breaking of the waves lapping at the shore filled my ears. I watched the turtle mothers crawling toward their nesting areas. Hundreds of heavy laden bodies moved slowly, trancelike, following the call deep within. Inland, at the high tide line, turtle mothers sat by their nests, pink eggs glistening as the mothers tossed sand over them. Other nests remained empty, sand clouds flying as the mothers created hollows that would hold their clutches of eggs.
In an older nest, hatchlings frantically swam up the sandy mound, tumbling over each other as they started their daunting journey to the sea. Mesmerized, I watched one tiny turtle climb up and slide back time after time, gradually left behind by its nest mates.
Watching it slide back again, I held my breath and leaned in as if to give it strength to reach the top. When it finally scrabbled its way up the bank and slid down the other side toward the open water, I sighed. “Safe.”
My eyes felt heavy and I drifted as the sun rose and the sand warmed ...
Splash! Suddenly I was alert again. A mammoth creature with a spiked back undulated through the surf, moving quickly toward the nests. “Dragon!” I thought and stood up. Covered with blazing plates from its tail all the way to its enormous head, it shook the earth as it moved.
The gaping mouth was red, blood-red and horrible. The beast lumbered toward the turtle nests. I froze, horrified as I watched the savage claws scoop up a nest and shove a clutch of eggs into that vast, red mouth. The massive paw swiped for more. Faster and faster it plundered the nests until yoke-yellow drool dripped from that scarlet mouth.
Soon a horrible keening ripped through the air, rising above the chaos. The anguished sound of the turtle mothers swept across the beach in waves as more and more nests disappeared into that cavernous mouth.
Stunned, I was unable to move, unable to look away. I shook myself, remembering that one tiny turtle, struggling so hard to leave the nest and begin its journey. “I have to do something,” I thought. “But what? What can I possibly do?” The sound of the mothers mourning over their dying babies ripped through my heart.
Behind the sickening keening, came another sound, first a low growl, then a growing wail, sand paper coarse and primal, “hunger … hunger … hunger!”
On and on the growl pulsed in between the monstrous slurping as the beast filled its gaping mouth with eggs … "Stop," I whispered as I rose.
That monstrous blood-red mouth turned toward me and roared. I fell back as its fiery eyes locked onto me and blasted hot breath my way. It roared again, a terrifying sound that drowned out the wailing of the turtle mothers.
“Hunger! … Hunger! … Hunger!”
Louder and louder the beast roared as it stomped closer. The ground shook with every step. A rush of its putrid, sulfurous breath made me gag.
Frantically, I looked around for something to stop it. Nothing. There was nothing that would stop this massive beast. “I am too small, too powerless. It’s impossible,” I thought.
There was nothing I could do but run, run away from this terrible creature. I turned and ran as far and as fast as I could. With the beast still thudding closer and closer, I stumbled and crab crawled across the sand. The horrible keening of the mothers grew louder.
“The babies!” I moaned. Wildly, I scanned the beach hoping to see someone who could help. No one. Without thinking, I clasped the turquoise amulet and remembered that one baby turtle struggling to survive.
“I must do something,” I said and stood up. I took a deep breath and turned back, running toward the beast and the babies. “I have to save the babies somehow! But how? ... How?” The beast had stopped and was hulking over another nest, digging his paw under the eggs.
“voice ...”
I stopped and my head snapped around at the sound of that word, but there was no one there except the turtles and that beast. Again, “use ... voice ....” sounded and, as I heard more words, I recognized Turtle Mother’s urging.
“Use voice,” I thought, repeating her words. “That doesn’t make any sense.” But, still I moved toward the beast until it lifted that horrible head again. Those fiery eyes blasted me again and I stopped in place, glancing down the open beach. “I can still escape,” I thought.
A wave of keening spun me around, back toward the monster. I raised both arms as high as I could and yelled, "Stop!"
This time, my voice was so loud it surprised even me. I felt taller, braver. I was looking the beast directly in its hideous eyes while that violent red mouth kept biting the air and growling. Its teeth were boulders and its talons sharpened spikes.
“Stop!” I yelled again even louder. The beast was now so close a furnace of heat blasted my face. Abruptly another word sounded in my head … “sing.” Turtle Mother again.
"What?" I gasped as the beast lurched closer.
"sing ... winter daughter … sing."
“Sing?” I cried, confused. Sing to this beast? Sing what? I staggered backward away from it.
Lurching closer and closer, It was now just a few yards away from me. It rose up to its full height, towering over me.
“look deep … see truth.” The voice again.
Truth? I backed away as fast as I could. What truth could there possibly be in that blood-red mouth? Again I heard that ghastly growl and saw that murderous mouth, dripping egg as it stomped toward me …
Hun ... ger!”
I stretched up as tall as I could. Everything inside me calmed as I flung my arms wide, opened my mouth and heard words that I didn’t recognize: a song that seemed to come from another place. In a thin, hesitant voice I sang ...
Oh, great Maverna, born with hunger fierce,
I know your name and from where you came,
Your home, wind-scorched and barren,
Your fear rustles like dry, dusty leaves,
Words kept pouring out of me, words I didn’t know yet somehow seemed like my own. With each word, my voice grew stronger and the beast slowed, waving its fierce head from side to side.
Your mouth gapes wide, sucking, sucking,
Your fingers grasping, searching, digging,
Your eyes wind-blind. Oh, poor Maverna,
Searching forever for the Mother of your heart.
The beast stopped. It cocked its powerful head, listening, then shook it slightly as if to shake away confusion. The volcano-red eyes dimmed and I heard a mournful moan when I continued.
Oh sweet Maverna, bastard child of hunger,
Mother’s milk, unripe and watered,
Not enough. Not sweet enough,
Not nourishing enough; just not enough.
The massive head lowered and its eyes softened as it gazed directly at me. In spite of my fear, I felt a connection.
Oh my Maverna, caught between light and dark,
Struggling toward light, seduced by dark,
Come back to the light, let the gaping hole within
Be healed and overflow with honeyed joy.
The fire drained from the beast’s eyes and the growling became a whimper. I walked a few steps toward the mewling dragon. It turned its now carmel-colored, woeful eyes on me, and without thinking I touched its forehead. Immediately it began to shrink and those golden plates disappeared one by one down its back.
The beast gradually grew smaller and smaller until there was nothing left except a tawny, spotted, jaguar kitten that simpered softly and licked my fingers. I stepped back, shocked, “How could a powerful dragon turn into this tiny kitten?
The kitten mewled again and I heard words, “Your song set me free.”
I blinked but stood still, not sure what to do. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “I will tell you the story. One dark night evil Xtabay, in a fit of lustful jealousy of my beautiful and graceful mother, turned her milk to water and then stole me away before my weaning. He cast a spell of endless hunger over me.”
Sadness sounded in Maverna’s voice as she gazed off toward the field of turtle mothers. “That hunger was an unquenchable fire that turned me into that evil thing. Now I am free to be my true self.”
She continued her story, “Because all spells must include a spell breaker, the evil ensnarer wove one he thought would never come to pass.
“The only way his spell could be broken would be if a singer whose courage was greater than fear sang my name in a song of compassion. With your courage, you have released me. Now it’s time to find my way back home and to my destiny.”
I watched as Maverna turned and loped toward the forest. My feelings were mixed
as the lithe, powerful body disappeared. I was still shaking, but proud that I stood up to my fear and released her from that horrible spell. I was happy that the turtle babies were safe, but I still didn’t know where I was or why. “How will I ever find ... ”
Suddenly, Maverna startled me. “You’re ... you’re back!” I gasped. She was so close to my face that I could feel her warm breath.
“Courage ... ” she panted, continuing in broken phrases. “... you faced fear ... you set me free ... .”
Maverna had changed. She was now almost fully grown and her eyes were bright and confident. “Now kin ... kin to jaguar ... Must find Tia. ... Find cave of bats. You will know fear ... your heart will guide you. I will be with you.”
Gone again before I could speak, I was astonished at her sudden reappearance and puzzled by her message. I didn’t want to go find some cave of bats. “Who’s Tia and why do I have to find her?”
I stood up and yelled to the jungle around me. “I don’t want more fear. I want to find someplace safe.” I scanned the beach for a long time holding the turquoise stone at my breast and looking for a sign about which way to go. I was tired and still dazed as I saw Turtle Mother crawl across the sand toward me. Her thoughts floated to me as she grew close. "good ... saved ... babies."
I sighed, "But, he took so many."
"many more come ... safe now."
Behind me the turtle mothers were tossing sand again. “That’s right,” I thought. “Stopping that beast seemed impossible, but I did it.” I frowned, still wondering how.
“turned ... fear ... around” breathed Turtle Mother and I wondered if she had heard my thoughts.
Turtle Mother gazed into my eyes, as if probing for something, searching, seeking. Then her slow words started, “true daughter ... .” She blinked her black, slanted eyes and more words came, "ix chel ... walk in rainbow … see right path … always."
"Ix Chel? What’s that?" I was confused by her words and tried to get her to say more but she only turned away. A few more words trailed behind her, "go … blue lost … ix chel knows."
I took a step after her. “Blue? Lost?” I called.
But, it was too late; she was crawling away. In the sand behind her, she left an iridescent trail imprinted by a cross-hatched pattern that reminded me of butterflies. When I reached down to touch the sand print left by her retreating claws, I realized it was a cloth, finely woven and opalescent.
When I rubbed the soft material against my cheek, rainbows danced all around me. Turtle Mother spoke again as she disappeared over a sand dune, "turn … fear … around."
January 27, 2016
Setting Dreams Free
When I was a kid, I wanted to be a writer. I remember seeing a picture of a gondola in Venice and I started writing a story about it.
It didn’t go far … what did a kid from a tiny town in southeast Kansas know about gondolas, Italy, or anything actually? Then, in the fourth grade, I tried to write a play for my recess group. It didn’t go far … they couldn’t read my handwriting. In college, I took creative writing classes. They didn’t go far … I really didn’t have much to say.
My life didn’t encourage this dream of being a writer. No one I knew wrote books. No one said, “Go for it! You can do it!” My ignorance of the world and the universe of books was megalithic. Books were like magical creatures that beckoned me into the world without revealing where they came from or how.
So, I put aside the dream. I had money to make, bills to pay, a career to build.
But, the dream kept niggling its way back into my consciousness and every once in awhile, I’d send off a flurry of query letters to magazines or publishers. The response was consistent: "No, thanks."
Time passed, the dream faded, reappeared and faded again. Then an idea connected with a publisher and, at age 45, I became a writer and an author. Book projects came my way and I kept writing. Nonfiction became a comfort zone so I tried fiction. Failure. Again!
For years, I told myself I couldn’t write fiction, didn’t know how to do description, bring characters to life, tell a story. Yadda, yadda. Then, one day, while trying to write something else, a "something" demanded its space on the page. It was an amusing bit of fluff and I didn’t have anything better to do, so I followed it. It wasn’t “a book;” it wasn’t even “a story.” It was just words flowing and calling me to follow. So I did.
Today, three years later, that bit of fluff has turned into a bit of reality. Proofs of a young adult fantasy novella will be in my hands in a few days. And, now, my mind is already conjuring up a multi-book fiction series for young, mature women (is YWM a new genre?).
I am now a fiction writer. Officially. That childhood dream wasn’t just a passing fancy. It was something real inside me that wanted out. I just didn’t know how to set it free. Which makes me think about those childhood dreams in all of us. Which ones are still calling out to be born into the world?
Somehow, I wish we could say to kids everywhere … whatever you’re dreaming about doing with your life, trust it. You may need to gather a lot of life experience before it can truly live in the world, but trust it. It is part of you … a real part of you … a part that only you can nourish and protect and give birth to. Honor it.
Book cover art
January 20, 2016
Chapter 5: Meeting Turtle Mother
Sarana's Gift will officially launch 1/29/2016, a day of creativity and joy! I hope you enjoy reading this segment. Also ... I would love to hear your comments and thoughts about the story. The next chapter will post on 2/3/2016 ... or, from now till 1/29/2016, you can get a complete copy of the story by leaving a note on the Email Us form on the right.
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send to joycewycoff@gmail.com.
Sarana's GiftChapter 5: Meeting Turtle Mother(Available here until 3/2/2016)
From: proyectobaulaostional.blogspot.comGradually my descent slowed and I struggled upward toward a faint light glowing in the distance. I fought to hold the air in my burning lungs which now felt like they would burst. Just when I thought I could stand it no longer, I broke the surface and gasped air and freedom in equal gulps.
My heart soared as I realized I was out of that endless, dark tunnel and then plummeted as I gazed around at the somber, tangled jungle that surrounded me.
“Wh ... where am I?” I sputtered, spinning around through the dead leaves and twigs that covered the pool. I treaded water as I studied the thick jungle beyond the pool which was ringed with gray, porous rock. The air was hot and moist, and mud sucked at my feet when I tried to walk. I heaved myself onto the bank, exhausted.
Questions buzzed through my mind like the insects around my head. “Where am I? What is this strange place? How can I get back? Why is this happening to me? Who will help me?” Nothing made any sense.
My body ached and my eyes were so tired that I finally curled up in a ball and folded my hands under my head. The earth resonated softly ... music ...
“What an odd dream,” I thought. The words from the dream echoed again in my mind: Go if you wish, take what you left behind. I hugged my knees, wondering what that meant. Confused, I just wanted to retreat back into sleep and pull one of those dream blankets over my head.
“No, I can’t do that,” I thought as I stood up and walked around the rocky pool, aimlessly touching trees, feeling the dark, rough bark with my fingertips. Something called me to the edge of the dense jungle. I squeezed through the trees as if something was leading me.
The trees, the pool, everything around me felt familiar, like I had been here before.
From tree to tree I drifted, touching, caressing each one until a sudden jolt shot up my arm when my hand slipped into a hole in a thick trunk. It was filled with soft debris and sparks tingled through my fingers as I brushed away feathers, leaves and twigs, digging deeper into the depth.
Something cool and smooth met my fingers and I pulled it into the light. It was a round disc that easily fit my palm and reminded me of sky in early morning. It was turquoise inlaid with a spiral symbol. A flash of recognition surged through me as I ran my finger along its surface. I didn’t know how, but I knew it was for me.
“Go if you wish,” the words from the dream repeated. “Go where?” I wondered. “And, why?”
I sat down on a log and held the turquoise amulet while endless questions poured into my mind. “Why should I go somewhere? I don’t even know where I am. What would happen if I go? What would happen if I don’t?”
The one thing I knew was that I couldn’t go back into that dark tunnel. “I just can’t!” I said as I stood up. “I don’t even know how to get back there anyway. I can’t stay here either though ... wherever here is.”
The amulet hung from a leather strap and I absently put it around my neck. A tremor of energy ran through me. I felt alert as I turned in a slow circle to look once again at the jungle. “Something about those trees,” I thought, pointing in a direction that just seemed to feel right.
I walked into the green, leafy jungle, through dappled, white-yellow beams of sunlight. I walked all day, struggling through the undergrowth. That night I climbed into the crook of an owl's tree and rested uneasily as the terrifying sounds of the night never stopped and unseen bugs tormented my skin. The damp air was thick and smelled primal, like compost mixed with cat urine and plumeria.
The next day, weary and hungry, I walked on again, pushing through the trees and vines that grabbed at my arms and legs until I came to a pebbled rivulet. After I rested and drank, I followed the stream until it reached a long, black-sand beach and blue water as far as I could see.
There I dropped onto the sand near the edge of the beach and could see an enormous black and white-speckled turtle watching me from the edge of the dunes. It was the biggest turtle I had ever seen, easily as long as I was tall, with ridges running down its back. Its shell appeared soft, almost rubbery, and pale spots covered its face and clawless front flippers.
I hesitated, afraid to move toward the huge animal whose black eyes locked onto mine. The words “Turtle Mother,” floated into my mind. The turtle continued to look at me with those dark, bottomless eyes and then slowly nodded her massive head.
" good … winter daughter ... here."
I fell back, startled at the soundless words. Her words were halting as they continued “… long journey ... fear ... dark tunnel ... sky stone … walk day ... walk day again."
Tears sprang to my eyes, “She knows. Somehow she understands where I’ve been and what I’ve been through,” I thought.
"daughter ... grow strong," the silent words continued, "danger ahead ... listen ... listen … babies crying ... crying ... red death coming ... save babies."
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send to joycewycoff@gmail.com.
Sarana's GiftChapter 5: Meeting Turtle Mother(Available here until 3/2/2016)
From: proyectobaulaostional.blogspot.comGradually my descent slowed and I struggled upward toward a faint light glowing in the distance. I fought to hold the air in my burning lungs which now felt like they would burst. Just when I thought I could stand it no longer, I broke the surface and gasped air and freedom in equal gulps.My heart soared as I realized I was out of that endless, dark tunnel and then plummeted as I gazed around at the somber, tangled jungle that surrounded me.
“Wh ... where am I?” I sputtered, spinning around through the dead leaves and twigs that covered the pool. I treaded water as I studied the thick jungle beyond the pool which was ringed with gray, porous rock. The air was hot and moist, and mud sucked at my feet when I tried to walk. I heaved myself onto the bank, exhausted.
Questions buzzed through my mind like the insects around my head. “Where am I? What is this strange place? How can I get back? Why is this happening to me? Who will help me?” Nothing made any sense.
My body ached and my eyes were so tired that I finally curled up in a ball and folded my hands under my head. The earth resonated softly ... music ...
a melody, caressing me, lulling me, pulling me toward warmth, a fire, and the smell of roasting food. I follow the music to a clearing where I see a white house surrounded by a picket fence with welcoming light pouring from the open door and windows.The rising sun woke me from the dream. I felt confused and unsettled at not knowing where I was. The thick jungle extended as far as I could see. When I shook my head to clear it, those odd words from the dream came back to me. “Go if you wish? Take what you left behind?”
I step onto the wooden porch grayed with time and see several small burros sleeping in clumps. Cautiously, I enter the house. A deer walks around in the dining room. There is a dark spot where it peed on the carpet. I gently guide it toward the open door. It walks out and down the porch steps.
In a small bedroom, there are piles of blankets on the floor. I lift one and see sheep and deer all sleeping together. I go into the next room and there are more, fifteen in all. I wake them up and shoo them outside.
I return to the living room and sit on a stool by the fire. A man hands me soup and lavender and then gently kisses my forehead and murmurs, “Go if you wish; take what you left behind.”
“What an odd dream,” I thought. The words from the dream echoed again in my mind: Go if you wish, take what you left behind. I hugged my knees, wondering what that meant. Confused, I just wanted to retreat back into sleep and pull one of those dream blankets over my head.
“No, I can’t do that,” I thought as I stood up and walked around the rocky pool, aimlessly touching trees, feeling the dark, rough bark with my fingertips. Something called me to the edge of the dense jungle. I squeezed through the trees as if something was leading me.
The trees, the pool, everything around me felt familiar, like I had been here before.
From tree to tree I drifted, touching, caressing each one until a sudden jolt shot up my arm when my hand slipped into a hole in a thick trunk. It was filled with soft debris and sparks tingled through my fingers as I brushed away feathers, leaves and twigs, digging deeper into the depth.
Something cool and smooth met my fingers and I pulled it into the light. It was a round disc that easily fit my palm and reminded me of sky in early morning. It was turquoise inlaid with a spiral symbol. A flash of recognition surged through me as I ran my finger along its surface. I didn’t know how, but I knew it was for me.
“Go if you wish,” the words from the dream repeated. “Go where?” I wondered. “And, why?”
I sat down on a log and held the turquoise amulet while endless questions poured into my mind. “Why should I go somewhere? I don’t even know where I am. What would happen if I go? What would happen if I don’t?”
The one thing I knew was that I couldn’t go back into that dark tunnel. “I just can’t!” I said as I stood up. “I don’t even know how to get back there anyway. I can’t stay here either though ... wherever here is.”
The amulet hung from a leather strap and I absently put it around my neck. A tremor of energy ran through me. I felt alert as I turned in a slow circle to look once again at the jungle. “Something about those trees,” I thought, pointing in a direction that just seemed to feel right.
I walked into the green, leafy jungle, through dappled, white-yellow beams of sunlight. I walked all day, struggling through the undergrowth. That night I climbed into the crook of an owl's tree and rested uneasily as the terrifying sounds of the night never stopped and unseen bugs tormented my skin. The damp air was thick and smelled primal, like compost mixed with cat urine and plumeria.
The next day, weary and hungry, I walked on again, pushing through the trees and vines that grabbed at my arms and legs until I came to a pebbled rivulet. After I rested and drank, I followed the stream until it reached a long, black-sand beach and blue water as far as I could see.
There I dropped onto the sand near the edge of the beach and could see an enormous black and white-speckled turtle watching me from the edge of the dunes. It was the biggest turtle I had ever seen, easily as long as I was tall, with ridges running down its back. Its shell appeared soft, almost rubbery, and pale spots covered its face and clawless front flippers.
I hesitated, afraid to move toward the huge animal whose black eyes locked onto mine. The words “Turtle Mother,” floated into my mind. The turtle continued to look at me with those dark, bottomless eyes and then slowly nodded her massive head.
" good … winter daughter ... here."
I fell back, startled at the soundless words. Her words were halting as they continued “… long journey ... fear ... dark tunnel ... sky stone … walk day ... walk day again."
Tears sprang to my eyes, “She knows. Somehow she understands where I’ve been and what I’ve been through,” I thought.
"daughter ... grow strong," the silent words continued, "danger ahead ... listen ... listen … babies crying ... crying ... red death coming ... save babies."
January 6, 2016
Chapter 4: Accepting Help
Sarana's Gift will officially launch 1/29/2016. I hope you enjoy reading this segment. Also ... I would love to hear your comments and thoughts about the story. The next chapter will post on 1/20/2016 ... or, from now till 1/29/2016, you can get a complete copy of the story by leaving a note on the Email Us form on the right.
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send us a note about your art and your email address in the Email Us form on the right.
Sarana's GiftChapter 4: Accepting Help(Available here until 2/17/2016)
Firefly
On … Off ... the light kept repeating until I finally recognized the pattern. “… a firefly! ... trapped here with me.”
I pulled myself back up to my knees and watched its flitting dance. “If I could just catch it, maybe it would give me enough light to go back up the steps.”
But the tiny light stayed just out of reach. I grabbed for it once again but tripped and fell against the bottom step, scraping my shin. I rubbed away the pain in the darkness, feeling for blood, relieved that it was just a scratch.
I wondered what was around me, but was afraid to move. “What if there is some gaping hole here in the darkness?“ I sat rigid with my back against the wall, watching the erratic pattern of the firefly flying back and forth into the darkness just off to the left. Every time it reached the edge of the gloom, it blinked on and I could see just a bit farther into the void. Then it came back and blinked close to my face before returning to the dark edge and blinking on again.
"It's trying to lead me!”
I stood up and shuffled one foot after the other to the place where that bit of light kept disappearing. I watched as it came back to me and then turned back toward the darkness. Each time it went a bit farther. I edged forward and then waited. Back it came, blinking its light and luring me on again. Another step. The pattern repeated, as I moved cautiously into that unseeable space.
I stopped. The firefly flew left again but I didn’t want to make a mistake. It blinked on and off again … once … twice … yes, it was going left, so I took one tentative step left and then another. I turned to look over my shoulder, blackness, even the stairs were gone. Heat rose in me again as fear and panic took hold. My chest was tight and I wanted to run, but was too afraid. I inhaled sharply, trying to hold down the nausea.
“What is this place?” I groaned. Sweat dripped down my face and my heart thudded. My knees buckled and I leaned against the wall for support. When the light blinked on again I inched forward.
I thought back … back to the time before I started running … back to that safe time ... before the fear started ... before I had stepped onto that roof. “I should have kept running.”
I followed the small blinking light step after step and then stumbled on the uneven ground. I fell onto my hands and knees, "I can't do this. It’s impossible. I just can't. Someone help me! Please!"
It was useless. There was no one here. No one could hear me. No one was going to help me.
I lay on the cold ground for a long time, wishing, wishing, wishing someone would come and save me. When I glanced up, that tiny light blinked on. “You again. Where are you taking me?”
Slowly, mindlessly, I followed the firefly crawling forward on my hands and knees. On and on I scrabbled after each blink of the tiny light. Until ... until the light stopped. I waited but it didn’t blink on again.
"No!" I wailed looking this way and that, trying to see anything. "Come back. Please come back." My heart plummeted as I lost that speck of hope. Cold, clammy fear claimed my body and I began to shake violently.
Nothing. Nothing broke the absolute darkness, the absolute silence. I wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep and never wake up. I wanted it all to be over. “It’s all too hard and everything is gone,” I moaned.
“I’m going to die here,” I said, holding my body rigid, refusing to move. My mind raced as I imagined myself falling off a cliff, being bitten by a snake or a bat, awaking a napping bear, dying of thirst or hunger, never leaving this dark place, never being safe again ...
“Stop!” I said, shaking my head to get rid of those images.
Suddenly, the silver-white horse flashed into my mind. I remembered us flying through the woods, his powerful muscles flexing along his back, his huge hooves thudding against the earth. Just thinking about him gave me a small jolt of strength.
“I can’t just die here,” I said, starting to move again. Blindly, I reached out to feel the air around me, crawling one hand and one knee at a time.
I inched several paces forward and then something brushed against my leg. I screamed, and screamed again as it whisked against my arm. I froze, barely breathing.
It stopped, soft hair still grazing my arm. My breathing slowed, “Fur,” I murmured as soft panting and a musky scent filled the air. In spite of my fear, I whimpered when it moved away. I didn’t want to be alone again. Tentatively, I reached my hand forward: fur.
"Take it."
I jerked my hand back at the soundless words. A long moment passed, and then, desperate, I reached out for the fur again and grasped a tail. It began to move and
I followed. Awkwardly holding its tail, I crawled after the animal using only one hand to pull me forward. Through the blackness we advanced one small, clumsy movement at a time.
The rough ground and pebbles scraped at my knees and the pain made my eyes water. The walls pushed in on me and I couldn’t get enough air. More than anything, I just wanted to rest ... close my eyes.
I blinked quickly to shake off those thoughts. “I have to keep moving.”
Still holding the tail of my unseen guide, I wondered how long I had been trapped here. Hours? Minutes? Days? Time was as unseen as the space around me. My mind slipped loose as on and on I crawled.
Suddenly, my free hand came down in empty space and I tumbled, falling head first, then feet first, then head again. Down, down through the blackness, until I splashed into cool, dark water and sank, automatically holding my breath as I fell deeper and deeper into the pool. Question: What's going to happen now? What is your greatest fear?(Please add your comments or questions in the Comment section below.)
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send us a note about your art and your email address in the Email Us form on the right.
Sarana's GiftChapter 4: Accepting Help(Available here until 2/17/2016)
FireflyOn … Off ... the light kept repeating until I finally recognized the pattern. “… a firefly! ... trapped here with me.”
I pulled myself back up to my knees and watched its flitting dance. “If I could just catch it, maybe it would give me enough light to go back up the steps.”
But the tiny light stayed just out of reach. I grabbed for it once again but tripped and fell against the bottom step, scraping my shin. I rubbed away the pain in the darkness, feeling for blood, relieved that it was just a scratch.
I wondered what was around me, but was afraid to move. “What if there is some gaping hole here in the darkness?“ I sat rigid with my back against the wall, watching the erratic pattern of the firefly flying back and forth into the darkness just off to the left. Every time it reached the edge of the gloom, it blinked on and I could see just a bit farther into the void. Then it came back and blinked close to my face before returning to the dark edge and blinking on again.
"It's trying to lead me!”
I stood up and shuffled one foot after the other to the place where that bit of light kept disappearing. I watched as it came back to me and then turned back toward the darkness. Each time it went a bit farther. I edged forward and then waited. Back it came, blinking its light and luring me on again. Another step. The pattern repeated, as I moved cautiously into that unseeable space.
I stopped. The firefly flew left again but I didn’t want to make a mistake. It blinked on and off again … once … twice … yes, it was going left, so I took one tentative step left and then another. I turned to look over my shoulder, blackness, even the stairs were gone. Heat rose in me again as fear and panic took hold. My chest was tight and I wanted to run, but was too afraid. I inhaled sharply, trying to hold down the nausea.
“What is this place?” I groaned. Sweat dripped down my face and my heart thudded. My knees buckled and I leaned against the wall for support. When the light blinked on again I inched forward.
I thought back … back to the time before I started running … back to that safe time ... before the fear started ... before I had stepped onto that roof. “I should have kept running.”
I followed the small blinking light step after step and then stumbled on the uneven ground. I fell onto my hands and knees, "I can't do this. It’s impossible. I just can't. Someone help me! Please!"
It was useless. There was no one here. No one could hear me. No one was going to help me.
I lay on the cold ground for a long time, wishing, wishing, wishing someone would come and save me. When I glanced up, that tiny light blinked on. “You again. Where are you taking me?”
Slowly, mindlessly, I followed the firefly crawling forward on my hands and knees. On and on I scrabbled after each blink of the tiny light. Until ... until the light stopped. I waited but it didn’t blink on again.
"No!" I wailed looking this way and that, trying to see anything. "Come back. Please come back." My heart plummeted as I lost that speck of hope. Cold, clammy fear claimed my body and I began to shake violently.
Nothing. Nothing broke the absolute darkness, the absolute silence. I wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep and never wake up. I wanted it all to be over. “It’s all too hard and everything is gone,” I moaned.
“I’m going to die here,” I said, holding my body rigid, refusing to move. My mind raced as I imagined myself falling off a cliff, being bitten by a snake or a bat, awaking a napping bear, dying of thirst or hunger, never leaving this dark place, never being safe again ...
“Stop!” I said, shaking my head to get rid of those images.
Suddenly, the silver-white horse flashed into my mind. I remembered us flying through the woods, his powerful muscles flexing along his back, his huge hooves thudding against the earth. Just thinking about him gave me a small jolt of strength.
“I can’t just die here,” I said, starting to move again. Blindly, I reached out to feel the air around me, crawling one hand and one knee at a time.
I inched several paces forward and then something brushed against my leg. I screamed, and screamed again as it whisked against my arm. I froze, barely breathing.
It stopped, soft hair still grazing my arm. My breathing slowed, “Fur,” I murmured as soft panting and a musky scent filled the air. In spite of my fear, I whimpered when it moved away. I didn’t want to be alone again. Tentatively, I reached my hand forward: fur.
"Take it."
I jerked my hand back at the soundless words. A long moment passed, and then, desperate, I reached out for the fur again and grasped a tail. It began to move and
I followed. Awkwardly holding its tail, I crawled after the animal using only one hand to pull me forward. Through the blackness we advanced one small, clumsy movement at a time.
The rough ground and pebbles scraped at my knees and the pain made my eyes water. The walls pushed in on me and I couldn’t get enough air. More than anything, I just wanted to rest ... close my eyes.
I blinked quickly to shake off those thoughts. “I have to keep moving.”
Still holding the tail of my unseen guide, I wondered how long I had been trapped here. Hours? Minutes? Days? Time was as unseen as the space around me. My mind slipped loose as on and on I crawled.
Suddenly, my free hand came down in empty space and I tumbled, falling head first, then feet first, then head again. Down, down through the blackness, until I splashed into cool, dark water and sank, automatically holding my breath as I fell deeper and deeper into the pool. Question: What's going to happen now? What is your greatest fear?(Please add your comments or questions in the Comment section below.)
December 28, 2015
Symbolism: Raven
RavenRaven is smart, curious, mysterious. He is a messenger of the gods and his primary message is: change is coming. When raven speaks to you, it’s time to turn your focus inward and listen to the secrets he is bringing you. Raven can help you confront your fears and solve problems that may seem impossible.
December 23, 2015
Chapter 3: Running
Sarana's Gift will officially launch 1/29/2016. I hope you enjoy reading this segment. Also ... I would love to hear your comments and thoughts about the story. The next chapter will post on 1/6/2016 ... or, from now till 1/29/2016, you can get a complete copy of the story by leaving a note on the Email Us form on the right.
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send us a note about your art and your email address in the Email Us form on the right.
Sarana's GiftChapter 3: Falling(Available here until 2/3/2016)
"Moonsilver" by Marina PetroThe horse ran fast, but not fast enough. I leaned closer to his neck, urging him on with my heels in his flanks. Glancing behind me, I clutched the flowing mane of the silver-white horse. Branches snatched at the white feathers woven into my hair as I galloped through the dark trees.
The horse's hooves drummed the earth as on and on we plunged.
“Away! I must get far away!” I cried and nudged the horse to go faster. Deeper and deeper into the forest we flew.
Frantic, I gripped the back of the heaving horse tighter as it pounded through the forest. Then, a rocky creek, too wide and deep for the horse to leap.
Sliding off, I whirled around to look behind me, and then ran to the creek. Hesitating briefly, I jumped from rock to rock until I reached the high, bouldered cliff on the other side.
The craggy wall rose solid and steep. “Impossible!” I groaned. “I can’t climb that high. What if I fall? What if I get hurt?” My breathing quickened. I scanned back and forth between the wall and the clearing where the silver-white horse stood grazing.
“I’ve ... I’ve got to get away.”
I scaled the first rock and dug my fingers into a crack to pull myself up to the next one. My fingernails tore as I scrabbled upwards from one boulder to the next, racing to get away. When I reached the top, I collapsed, my chest heaving as I sucked in more air. I rested a moment before struggling to stand up again.
“Go! Go. I must go.” I heaved myself up off the ground and saw a brushy field stretching toward the mountains in the distance. I ran toward them. The bushes snagged my arms and legs, but I kept going--running, running.
In the distance, a building materialized. As I ran toward it, I saw a gray, wooden cabin with a broad front porch. “It looks safe. I’ve got to get in.”
No smoke rose from the chimney. No light shone from the windows. I looked behind me once more and then dashed deeper into the thicket of waist-high buck brush between me and the cabin.
Scratched and exhausted, I finally reached the porch, but couldn’t find the steps.
I raced around the cabin. Once. Twice. No steps anywhere. I scrambled over the railing, constantly looking behind me. I needed to get in, but still couldn’t find the door.
Once again, I rushed around the porch, slowing down to examine every side. “No door! How can there not be a door? I have to get in.”
I pulled and tugged at the thick boards covering the windows but nothing budged. I banged my fist against them and screamed in frustration.
Frantically, I circled once more. Still no door. I climbed off the porch and backed away trying to see something … anything.
A raven cawed and I jerked my eyes up to the roof. “Maybe there’s a way in up there.”
I ran toward the vine-covered chimney and tugged on a vine. “Strong enough,” I muttered and started to climb … up … up. A thorn scraped me and blood trickled down my arm. I kept going. I had to get in.
I reached the top and crawled out onto the roof. I could see all the way to the horizon where the sun hovered low and my horse still grazed in the clearing.
I needed a way in but saw nothing.
Desperate, I searched again and again. Then I found a few thin lines on the far side of the roof that looked like the outline of a door, but my fingers couldn’t get a grip.
I tried to find a stick or something that would fit into the gaps. Nothing. Just some leaves and small twigs, and the raven, which cawed again. The sound startled me and I stumbled backward.
Click.
When I moved away, a door cracked open. I jerked on it and peered into the abyss where a ladder descended into the darkness. I looked back toward the forest clearing and then, with a rush, stepped onto the top rung of the ladder and began to climb down. I reached the bottom and found a staircase descending farther into the void.
What to do? Go back or take the stairs into that dark pit? “I have to get in! There’s no other way.”
Determined, I stepped forward. I could see nothing beyond the stairs and when I reached into the darkness, my hand disappeared and only reappeared when I pulled it back into the dim light of the staircase.
One step after another. Down. Down. I turned at each landing onto another set of stairs, into another long shaft of dim light surrounded by blackness. Nothing of the cabin showed, just the stairs. On I went. Down, flight after flight. My throat tightened and uneasiness surged through my body.
Another turn. Then nothing. The stairway stopped. I felt around again, watching my hands and arms disappear into the empty space. The air smelled fetid and dead. Frozen on the bottom step, it hit me: “I’m alone. I’m lost and helpless.”
My mouth went dry. “Nothing. There is nothing here.”
My body sagged with despair. I had no choice but to go back up that long, black staircase, back up to that empty roof, back to ...
Caw! Crash!
Everything went black. “No!” I shouted as I realized the door must have blown shut.
I spun around feeling for something to hold on to. Anything. Only cold, empty silence surrounded me.
My chest pounded as I sank to the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees and rocked back and forth, whimpering.
“What am I going to do?”
“Help! Someone please help me,” I whispered again and again even though I knew no one could hear me.
I sat anchored to the stairs, barely breathing, afraid to move. Faraway, a thin, ragged voice cried, “Please help me.”
I turned toward the sound and recognized my own voice scratching into the darkness but not making a mark on the chains of fear that held me.
“I can’t go back up those stairs. Who would help me if I fell?”
I inhaled trying to calm myself. Once. Twice. Again and again until the loud pounding in my chest slowed to a regular thudding.
“I can’t just stay here,” I resolved, struggling to stand up.
A pin prick of light blinked in front of me. I jerked toward it, but missed. A hot flash of nausea surged up my throat. I gagged and spat vomit into the darkness. Hopeless, I wiped my mouth against my arm, trying to get rid of the hot, sour taste.
Blink.
The tiny light blinked on again. Just for a second and then it stopped. I watched as the pattern repeated. On ... Off ... On ... .
Question: Where is all of this going? Have you ever felt this kind of fear?
(Please add your comments or questions in the Comment section below.)
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send us a note about your art and your email address in the Email Us form on the right.
Sarana's GiftChapter 3: Falling(Available here until 2/3/2016)
"Moonsilver" by Marina PetroThe horse ran fast, but not fast enough. I leaned closer to his neck, urging him on with my heels in his flanks. Glancing behind me, I clutched the flowing mane of the silver-white horse. Branches snatched at the white feathers woven into my hair as I galloped through the dark trees.The horse's hooves drummed the earth as on and on we plunged.
“Away! I must get far away!” I cried and nudged the horse to go faster. Deeper and deeper into the forest we flew.
Frantic, I gripped the back of the heaving horse tighter as it pounded through the forest. Then, a rocky creek, too wide and deep for the horse to leap.
Sliding off, I whirled around to look behind me, and then ran to the creek. Hesitating briefly, I jumped from rock to rock until I reached the high, bouldered cliff on the other side.
The craggy wall rose solid and steep. “Impossible!” I groaned. “I can’t climb that high. What if I fall? What if I get hurt?” My breathing quickened. I scanned back and forth between the wall and the clearing where the silver-white horse stood grazing.
“I’ve ... I’ve got to get away.”
I scaled the first rock and dug my fingers into a crack to pull myself up to the next one. My fingernails tore as I scrabbled upwards from one boulder to the next, racing to get away. When I reached the top, I collapsed, my chest heaving as I sucked in more air. I rested a moment before struggling to stand up again.
“Go! Go. I must go.” I heaved myself up off the ground and saw a brushy field stretching toward the mountains in the distance. I ran toward them. The bushes snagged my arms and legs, but I kept going--running, running.
In the distance, a building materialized. As I ran toward it, I saw a gray, wooden cabin with a broad front porch. “It looks safe. I’ve got to get in.”
No smoke rose from the chimney. No light shone from the windows. I looked behind me once more and then dashed deeper into the thicket of waist-high buck brush between me and the cabin.
Scratched and exhausted, I finally reached the porch, but couldn’t find the steps.
I raced around the cabin. Once. Twice. No steps anywhere. I scrambled over the railing, constantly looking behind me. I needed to get in, but still couldn’t find the door.
Once again, I rushed around the porch, slowing down to examine every side. “No door! How can there not be a door? I have to get in.”
I pulled and tugged at the thick boards covering the windows but nothing budged. I banged my fist against them and screamed in frustration.
Frantically, I circled once more. Still no door. I climbed off the porch and backed away trying to see something … anything.
A raven cawed and I jerked my eyes up to the roof. “Maybe there’s a way in up there.”
I ran toward the vine-covered chimney and tugged on a vine. “Strong enough,” I muttered and started to climb … up … up. A thorn scraped me and blood trickled down my arm. I kept going. I had to get in.
I reached the top and crawled out onto the roof. I could see all the way to the horizon where the sun hovered low and my horse still grazed in the clearing.
I needed a way in but saw nothing.
Desperate, I searched again and again. Then I found a few thin lines on the far side of the roof that looked like the outline of a door, but my fingers couldn’t get a grip.
I tried to find a stick or something that would fit into the gaps. Nothing. Just some leaves and small twigs, and the raven, which cawed again. The sound startled me and I stumbled backward.
Click.
When I moved away, a door cracked open. I jerked on it and peered into the abyss where a ladder descended into the darkness. I looked back toward the forest clearing and then, with a rush, stepped onto the top rung of the ladder and began to climb down. I reached the bottom and found a staircase descending farther into the void.
What to do? Go back or take the stairs into that dark pit? “I have to get in! There’s no other way.”
Determined, I stepped forward. I could see nothing beyond the stairs and when I reached into the darkness, my hand disappeared and only reappeared when I pulled it back into the dim light of the staircase.
One step after another. Down. Down. I turned at each landing onto another set of stairs, into another long shaft of dim light surrounded by blackness. Nothing of the cabin showed, just the stairs. On I went. Down, flight after flight. My throat tightened and uneasiness surged through my body.
Another turn. Then nothing. The stairway stopped. I felt around again, watching my hands and arms disappear into the empty space. The air smelled fetid and dead. Frozen on the bottom step, it hit me: “I’m alone. I’m lost and helpless.”
My mouth went dry. “Nothing. There is nothing here.”
My body sagged with despair. I had no choice but to go back up that long, black staircase, back up to that empty roof, back to ...
Caw! Crash!
Everything went black. “No!” I shouted as I realized the door must have blown shut.
I spun around feeling for something to hold on to. Anything. Only cold, empty silence surrounded me.
My chest pounded as I sank to the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees and rocked back and forth, whimpering.
“What am I going to do?”
“Help! Someone please help me,” I whispered again and again even though I knew no one could hear me.
I sat anchored to the stairs, barely breathing, afraid to move. Faraway, a thin, ragged voice cried, “Please help me.”
I turned toward the sound and recognized my own voice scratching into the darkness but not making a mark on the chains of fear that held me.
“I can’t go back up those stairs. Who would help me if I fell?”
I inhaled trying to calm myself. Once. Twice. Again and again until the loud pounding in my chest slowed to a regular thudding.
“I can’t just stay here,” I resolved, struggling to stand up.
A pin prick of light blinked in front of me. I jerked toward it, but missed. A hot flash of nausea surged up my throat. I gagged and spat vomit into the darkness. Hopeless, I wiped my mouth against my arm, trying to get rid of the hot, sour taste.
Blink.
The tiny light blinked on again. Just for a second and then it stopped. I watched as the pattern repeated. On ... Off ... On ... .
Question: Where is all of this going? Have you ever felt this kind of fear?
(Please add your comments or questions in the Comment section below.)
