Warm water flowed at the behest of gravity, absolving body and soul alike in the silent vestibule of reprieve. Question not my son your good fortune, his dad would say, but fall on bended knee and give thanks, for that which is given by the hand of grace can be taken just as quickly by the foot of hubris. She had taken the news just as he had imagined and he had wondered upon the day angels conspired to touch the heart of one such as his beloved Caitlin.Prepare yourself, she had said, for a night filled with the love of many moons distilled into mere hours. I love you dearly my captain, and if you don’t know the depth and breadth of my well, I intend to remove all doubt before Rubion and Triste turn the melanic sky blue as watered milk. With a crystal reflected wink and a firm blessing to his hide, she had sent him to clean up while she prepared their sanctuary of repose.
As he stood under the cascading shower, his feet firmly planted on the imported nankeen tile, rising steam cleansed each pore with a diligence to match the occasion. One night, he reflected, to stock the granary of his mind for the long voyage ahead. Lose yourself in the moment; swim with the current for the shore of tomorrow’s siren call will steal your appointment with life given half a chance.
Caitlin lit the last of a hundred candles moving quickly to place the cardinal flowers of passion beside the purpure ones of fidelity. She had picked them from her garden in the morning to grace dinner, but as a sailor sets sail on a changing wind, such had events shifted their tack. Each flower released a slightly different aroma, which symbiotically trumped the finest handmade oils. Memory, her mother had taught, is strongest in the regions of smell—a lesson not forgotten and more invaluable than she had ever imagined at the time. She knew her competition and she would fight memory with memory in the mind of her peripatetic husband.
Slipping on her silk crimson kimono with luteous trim, Caitlin’s trembling hands slowly and gently fastened the sash as lovers fasten bows for the purpose of release; she smiled, reflecting that the same fate awaited the fresh linens so carefully tucked only hours before. Her hair was naturally primrose, which she highlighted with essence of goldenrod giving forth a metallic sheen that looked charged with sparkle in the soft light of distant stars. Red eye shadow stood in marked contrast on her pristine porcelain white skin, framing sapphire blue eyes as lush meadows bow at the feet of mountain lakes fed from the sacrifice of spring snows.
John emerged into the orchestrated symphony of light and aroma with eyes only for the maestro standing center stage. They say souls know not neither time nor distance in the weaving of two into one and in this instance, neither the hounds of hell nor the angels of heaven could have pierced the space between his eyes and hers. The room seemed to expand and contract with the sighs of its keep as a mother might with the happiness of an only child. John would say many years later there was only one date ever left blank in his journal, for the unfolding of events in those hours of union rose to a level beyond the language of men and into the realm of kindred spirits given entry to the playground of angels.
Categories: Story, John Discovery, Caitlin
21 comments:
WOW, such extraordinary description. I read it several times, taking care to absorb every word.
They say souls know not neither time nor distance in the weaving of two into one...
I love this.
Deb, I take that as very high praise indeed, on bended knee of course. :-)
To be read more than once is an awful nice thing to say. As always, your kind words are deeply appreciated.
Got to the end of that and let out an audible sigh of pleasure. :-)
Wow. These recent chapters have taken the story to new heights, they really have. Not that the ones preceeding were any less delightful, but these are just like a lullaby, so very pretty, melodic, soothing, but in two ways - one by the spell that the language and content weave, drawing us deep within, but letting us float against the surface too of those wonderful words one by one.
Pure bliss, in that room, reading that chapter. Enjoyed it so.
A+, and a box of chocolates too.
EW!!!
Sunshine, I just let out an audible sigh at the end of your comment. You know, you are turning commenting into an art form and I think I enjoy reading your take on a chapter as much as you enjoy reading it. Fair exchange Poppet says. Sweet Pea, get out of those chocolates, they're not just for you! Boy, like a zoo over here. See what you do. :-D
:-D Sounds like fun!
I found a box of chocolates in the UK called Poppets, beautifully chocolatey on the outside, wonderfully sweet on the inside :-)
Brought one home, empty :-D, will have to scan it and show it to you.
Oooh, now Poppet is going to get the big head. :-D
I'm just staying still for a second until everything stops spinning.
You know, it really is criminal how good you are at this. You make me blush. Me! Blushing! Teehee.
You've just given me a lot of wonderful ideas for my house. When you create something this beautiful I guess it can't help but flow into other things.
Bean, you're making me smile in six different ways and three different languages. I don't quite have your cheek bones but mine are aching nonetheless from your delightfully delicious comment. :-D
When you're in that new house, I want pictures, of you blushing. You can be in the house, but I want to see those red cheeks. Your choice as to which set you'd like to show. :-)
Oh, and don't forget, you still have a blessing coming your way.
A lullaby to send you softly off to the land of nod. Sweet dreams, poppet. :-)
Du är en saga för god för att vara sand
Det är en saga i sig att vi funnit varann
Vi kunde lika gärna, aldrig nånsin mötts
Eller var vårt mote redan bestämt långt innan vi fötts
Vem vet, inte du
Vem vet, inte jag
Vi vet ingenting nu
Vi vet inget idag
Vem vet, inte du
Vem vet, inte jag
Vi vet ingenting nu
Vi vet inget idag
Vem vet
u r a born-writer!
Keshi.
Lisa Ekdahl admittely does a better job of it though,
Vem vet under Audio/Video if you want to hear her version. :-)
So when are you going to get published, Tree?
Chicky, I'm not there yet. I think my writing is getting better, but I think I still have a long way to go. I do appreciate your very kind words and they do encourage me very much and for that I'm very grateful. Thanks Chicky. :-)
My dear Sunshine, Poppet thanks you for that lovely lullaby sung by such a enticing lass who apparently likes her coffee in an off-white cup. :-D
Hope your Wolfe hunting was successful. If not, we wait on the fields of London. Afternoon Sweetest.
Oh Keshi, this is why you should come around more often. You spread joy like a toddler spreads legos, with reckless abandon. :-D
Thanks my dear southern angel for those very kind words.
Sunshine, my neck is sore from the induced head bobbing her music commands. I've been drawn in, such an addicting melody. :-)
Alas, no luck with Wolfe, so yes, I'll wait 'til I get to England. I did buy 4 other books though, so not a 'wasted' journey. :-)
Glad you like the song, addictive is the right word, find myself singing it often (in a very bad Swedish accent mind you:).
Hope you bop all the way through Monday, x
Vraket has worked its way into the inner recesses of my brain. I might have to buy the album. :-)
Well, now you have a reason to go to London. The Wolfe awaits! :-D
The Wolfe awaits!
:-D
Like Vraket very much too!
Find myself straining to understand the lyrics though. Not as simply worded as with Vem Vet.
I doubt you'd be disappointed if you do buy, I've liked just about everything I've heard from her thus far. Easy to listen to, and as agreed, catchy too. :-)
This was wonderful! The description was detailed and lush -- so hearrfelt. You are inspiring me.
Liz, I often say the say thing about you. :-)
So glad you liked the flowers. You kind words and very much appreciated too.
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