Von sat dog loyal next to his son's coffin, his face ashen with a dusting of unshaved beard upon jowls long. His aged left hand, skin like elephant hide, veins as serpentine rivers blue as watered milk, rested upon the poppy-red ceramic enclosure and his right hand upon the rubious insignia adorning the book of letters. Lids heavy draped his eyes as sacred vestments such that from a distance it was hard to tell who was dead and who was alive.
"How much longer is he gonna just sit there?" asked Rog, standing with Kyra outside chapel.
"Long as he needs."
"Has Zoe spoken yet?"
"Yep."
"Von know?"
"Nope."
"You gonna tell him?"
"Nope."
"I'd think he'd wanna know."
"You think?"
Rog made his Rog face.
"Look. I don't think it needs to come from either you or me."
"Well, I think you're--"
Kyra looked over Rog's shoulder and nodded. Rog turned (head then eye), his reflective eyes brighter than before with the image of Zoe, her metallic golden hair looking electric, the highlights whiter than permalba white. She walked like a newborn filly, her knees looking like they would give at any moment, suspension aftereffect or girth of child or both didn't matter, for when she wobbled upon the fall, Rog did what Rog did best--act before thinking. (Yul made me say that)
Zoe tried to smile as Rog held her right arm and Kyra her left. Together they walked her into the chapel and before the grandfather of her child to be. Von opened his languid eyes, looked at Zoe, then Kyra who nodded, then back to Zoe, who's eyes looked as refulgent dams before the hynerian she knew and the hynerian she longed to embrace.
Von stood, his voice as distant rolling thunder, his tone as the cool breeze before a rain. "You knew my son?"
Zoe spoke as if before a magistrate. "Yes. I knew your son."
"And my son knew you," said Von, breaking eye contact. (for Jenni--this is said as a statement, not a question ;-)
"He lives within me," replied Zoe, her delicate hand traversing the equator of her joy.
Von's head seemed to float and his eyes became like suns breaking above the clouds. "Give me your hand." Zoe did. Von looked upon the ring as one looks upon an old picture. "Did you love him?"
"I did."
"Did he love you?"
"With all his heart."
Von's gaze move from ring to eye. "Did he ever speak of me?"
Her eyes scintillating as if illuminated from within, Zoe said with undeniable firmness. "All the time."
22 comments:
I love the metaphors you use, they are new and refreshing. I can actually feel the sorrow of Von and the scene of him sitting beside the coffin of his son is a very powerful image. I'm learning from you.
Kate, I never saw a metaphor I didn't like. :-D
The relationship between Von and Ceru is a very special one, as evidenced by the few chapters the story has shown us of the two of them together and the bond formed between father and son. I cannot image, as a father, burying my own son, yet, here we find Von, in that position. So there he is, alone, sitting in the chapel, light dim, perhaps hundreds of candles flickering in witness to a grief impossible to share or articulate. As old as Von already is, we see him even older, sitting as stone, eyes closed in benediction, hands looking frail, old, tired, worn as they rest upon the coffin, resting as if the ability to let go, to be at peace is still at bay. And then, there is Zoe and what Zoe represents.
As always, thanks for the kind words Kate. Much appreciated. :-)
"Rog did what Rog did best--act before thinking. (Yul made me say that"
:)
I needed that ;)
Tree, it is WAY too early for me to read something this powerful and get all teary-eyed. ;) I just want to hug everyone in the whole story!
--snow
Snow, I think you should start with the author. In fact, I think he could stand proxy for all the characters. Bring on those ninja hugs. :-D
Miladysa, me too. ;-)
Wow that is different, I like the story and approach. A nice way communicating.
Thanks Lenny. I'd like to think people will find something unique and different here in both the art and the prose. I'd love to think it's good enough that people would want to come back. I work to get better with every chapter in that hope. Thanks for taking the time to offer a kind word--always appreciated. :-)
Hi,
Samples:
1
"_ _ _his voice as distant rolling thunder, his tone as the cool breeze_ _ _"
2
"_ _ _looked upon the ring as one looks upon an old picture_ _ _"
3
"_ _ _her delicate hand traversing the equator of her joy._ _ _"
The metaphors are endearing.
I do not have metaphors to describe how fascinating and deep are the pictures that I see on your page. (How have you done the copyright? Can you guide me?)
The style of story, which is like a gurgling stream, is unique in that it is like witnessing the maestro writing bestseller page by page.
Thanks to blogspot for making this possible. You deserve the accolades.
Your research in cure for cancer fascinates me. Can you tell me how you are moving in that area?
Love and Compliments from India.
Dr. Ashok Koparday
http://mysexdoctor.blogspot.com
ask(at)mydoctortells(dot)com
Dr Ashok, first let me say thanks for the very kind words. The older I get the more clearly I see the power of being kind. Thank you.
I'm not sure I understand your question with regard to copyright on the images. Everything on my blog, prose and images alike, are protected by copyright law. I suppose someone could try and steal the images and sell them for profit but they would run into one significant hurdle, namely, the images on the blog are compressed and rendered such for blog posting as to be unsuitable for distribution. To give you one example, the file size of a image posted here (JPEG) is less than 1 MB and usually about half that at most. An image properly rendered (in TIFF format)for publication at 6x9 is generally about 30 MB in size. The only way to do this is to have the original file parameters, which only I have. In other words, although the images look great on the web, to try and do anything more with them as is would be an exercise in futility not to mention a violation of copyright law and a grave injustice to the artist--myself.
Now, if you are asking how the images are created, let me know--be happy to share.
As for the cancer research, I participate in the World Community Grid's distributed computing project. All the links to their site and details about their work can be found on my side bar. In short, the project allows anyone in the world with a computer and internet connection to work on small bits of data related to various scientific projects. I lost my father to cancer about three years ago and have been running every computer I can in order to do something to advance research. Thanks for asking. And by the way, anyone and everyone is welcomed to join our cause and join our team: Bravo. :-)
There you go....talking about numbers again, Tree....
~swoon~
But, I was already swooning after having read ...
'the equator of her joy.'
Swooning and smiling.
Oh, :-D, Tree.
Did I tell you I scored in the 99 percentile on the math portion of my aptitude testing?
I got some numbers for you. Check the screws on that headboard. :-D
I found this chapter one of the most poignant. The description and dialogue are superb considering the subject matter. It definitely impacted me.
BTW - I love your clock fractals!
Deb, thanks. This chapter was one of the harder ones to write. I wanted to get it right and perhaps tried too hard. I was thinking this morning, if I had to rewrite the chapter from a blank page, would it look the same, feel the same. Nope and Yep. The feeling is there. How we get there would change.
Deb, thanks for that very endearing comment. :-)
Like a dam bursting, such was the happiness I felt at the confirmation from Zoe, not just ever, but all the time. How this knowledge must have flooded him too, overwhelmed him, though he had the Book of Letters, though he had the type of relationship with his son where they could discuss Von leaving and Ceru staying and the course of action that each would take, now as he sits by his son to know that Ceru felt as strongly about his father as he ever did must have been such a wonderful comfort. As always, Poppet, as your words flow from your heart to the page, so it rises from the words as one reads and merges right into the reader's. Someone wrote they felt like hugging all the characters, this is what you have done, created not just eight but thirteen and more characters that embed themselves within anyone who follows them just a little while, for some from their very first appearance. You characters shine bright and true and deep and are so easily loved. Once again I am drawn when wanting to comment to your opening chapter, which as so often sets not just the scene but the tone and mood for the remainder. It is in itself an absolutely superb piece of writing from the introduction that has him sitting by the coffin to the entracing depiction and placement of his hands. I read that passage and read it again before carrying on, closed my eyes and let the image sit, the words live and breathe as your words do. Someone else wrote the exceedingly wonderful and gladdening comment it was like watching a maestro writing a best seller page by page, I agree so thoroughly with this and I love that these are new readers experiencing for the first time what you have been enthralling some of us with for so long. You are a maestro, this is and has always been the most amazing writing, thrilling and delightful for anyone who loves words, for anyone who loves to fall in love with fictional characters, for anyone who loves a good story.
Just this one short passage: Von stood, his voice as distant rolling thunder, his tone as the cool breeze before a rain. "You knew my son?", outstanding, and as has often been said, in the past and in the present, your ability to present a scene and to do in such vibrant and eloquent fashion through sometimes simple, sometimes intricate metaphor, always in the way that radiates with the strength of the sun the image you wish to show, at least so it seems. Your words are potent.
The scene between Zoe and Von, tentative and long-reaching, full, inspired and brilliant quite simply. Regardless of how much I say about this scene between the two of them, it will boil down to that, inspired and brilliant.
I very much look forward to not only knowing more of Zoe, but to knowing more of Ceru, who captured instantly.
Brilliant.
Inspired. :-)
Loved it!!
Sweetest, to borrow a word from the Strumpet, your comment,as most all of them do, makes me SWOON!
I wish I could describe how powerful your comments are. I wish I could tell you how invaluable they have been over the last two plus years of writing this story, how when I thought to stop, to write no more, how you carried me forward with a language of praise so sublime I was left with no choice but to aspire to live up to your vision.
Okay, I'm back to swooning now. :-D
There is a great lesson in your comments my dear Autumn. And each time to leave one, you preach the good word with deed, not idle talk. Just so you know. I've got my eye on you. My thoughts and prayers too for your new domicile and place of labored rendered. :-)
Gosh but I miss you, miss not just sitting here a while. I can never get enough of this place and so any cutting down of the time that I do have to spend here is felt hard and deep. Thank you, cross your fingers for me on both accounts tomorrow, just one coming through and I will consider tomorrow's trip a great success, neither then they make good practise. :-)
Sweet dreams when you get that far, miss wishing you those too, x
Beautiful chapter. In part, it felt like it was written just for me :)
Jenni, you are never far from my thoughts. :-)
As always, thanks for the kind thoughts.
Swooning is so much fun.
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