Drabble Wednesday: Under the Cherry Tree

Today on Drabble Wednesday we sit under the shade of a tree and wait. Death is coming...

Tryst

The rustle of a silk kimono and the flutter of a painted fan chased the whisper of the wind. She moved with the night to linger under the perfumed beauty of the cherry tree. She closed her eyes, and breathed in the subtle fragrance of the blossoms.

He will be here soon.

Soft footsteps echoed her thoughts. She smiled and opened her eyes, but saw only darkness. Then a hand touched her shoulder.

He’s here. My love is here.

“I’m sorry.”

Pain sliced into her back as his knife stabbed. She fell to the ground, petals falling across her corpse.

~*~

The Walk

“Come for a stroll with me, Eliza.”

The beautiful woman smiled at her would-be beau and nodded. She twirled her parasol and they walked the woodland path arm in arm. Their laughter could be heard as they disappeared from view.

But Eliza came home alone.

“Walk with me, Eliza. Just down to the old mill pond.”

Another beau with love struck eyes. Another nod. Again, Eliza came home alone.

“Shall we stroll, Eliza?”

She nodded, and they meandered down to the mill pond. And like the others, Eliza shot him under the cherry tree.

That’s why Eliza comes home alone.

~*~

Sunrise, Sunset

The smell of cherry blossoms and the view of a tangerine sunrise.

Who could ask for a better end?

I’m alone in the orchard, where it all began so long ago. Where I met you and fell in love. Despite your deception. It never mattered to me. I accepted who you truly were, accepted the gifts you offered. I’ve no regrets.

But you are gone now. Back to dust and death. Lost forever.

I am alone, here in our orchard.

But only until the sun rises to its full glory. Then I too will be dust.

Just another suicidal vampire.

© A. F. Stewart 2017 All Rights Reserved

Drabble Wednesday: Dark Beauty

On today’s Drabble Wednesday we focus on beauty—dark, faded, and terrible…

The Orchard

The aroma of the blossoms saturated the orchard with a honeyed, almost cloying scent. They swaddled the trees in pastel pink and white; a perfect scene of the season. Life abounded in the blooms, with the promise of luscious, succulent fruit to come.

A cool spring breeze fluttered the petals, scattering a few to the dew-damped grass below. It swirled through branches, coiled around tree trunks, caressing the healed scars marring the bark. The cuts were deep, but they mended, new bark growing and reshaping the tree.

Still, they linger, those wounds. Like the bones buried beneath the tree roots.

  

The Window

A web of cracks spoils the flower patterns on the coloured glass, and the once vivid hues have faded from sunlight and layers of grime. The overgrown garden is only a blur of jumbled shades seen through the damaged, dirty window, but she sits in her tattered rocking chair and stares past the glass.

Perhaps she remembers far better days, her mind transported to happier times. Perhaps she ponders dormant secrets, or former, clandestine trysts among the roses. Perhaps memories of her wedding, or her children playing keep her gaze so rapt.

Or perhaps, alone, she simply waits to die.

The Cosmos Viewpoint

I beheld the universe.

In all its glory and wonder. In all its horror and despair. I went mad, surrounded by the force of creation. I experienced perfection, for an infinitesimal time and the briefest of moments. I was everywhere at once, and nowhere.

I beheld the universe.

Saw the divine infinite.

Saw the stygian void.

Now…

I cannot escape it. I shut my eyes and it is there. It whispers in my head. It blots out the sun and sky. It wraps around my soul and devours me.

I am caught, I am snared.

Help me.

Somebody help me.