Back by popular demand – oh, hush – are…
I wish I could make them all pretty for you, but let’s face it, I am far too lazy to find pictures and edit my words onto their surfaces. So you will just have to be content with the words.
She never spoke to me. Not once. I knew that she could speak, but she simply refused, retreating inside herself instead. Her self-imposed silence lasted twelve years. Perhaps it would’ve been more merciful to let her die.
“You come, too,” he said breathlessly. She tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let her. He had never been convinced that she understood him when he spoke, but he was sure now. She knew. She took a step back, their joined hands dangling limply between them. With a sudden tug, Aleks pulled her into his arms.
Endelyn could feel each blade of grass that pressed against the bare skin of her legs. She could feel the breath of wind that caressed her face and blew her hair up off her neck and moved silently through the grass. Shed could feel every fiber of the rough material of her dress as if chafed against her skin. She could feel it all. So many sensations. It was agony. It was ecstasy. She was alive for the first time. And then, when she opened her eyes, it was gone.
Those were not her eyes. So huge and dark, nearly black. Once they were blue, like the color of the sky on a sunny day. Mkali tore her eyes away, unable to sit there staring into the despairing eyes of the stranger she saw looking out at her.
Endelyn broke her stubborn silence only to curse him soundly in Nomad, telling him just what she thought of him in a string of colorful expletives. The corners of his mouth tipped up in an amused smile. He replied in easy, fluid Nomad.
In the darkness, far away, I can see a dim light. I move toward it, and it becomes brighter, its light stronger. I hear a steady hum coming from it. As it becomes clearer, I see that out is not a fixed orb of light as I had thought, but a thin, glowing thread that stretches on and on until it is faint in the distance and finally melts into the blackness.
A dry wind catches sparks rising from the campfire, making them dance erratically until they blink out. Dead. Dead, like everyone and everything around me. I get the sense that these people are fugitives, running for their lives. And now I’m running with them.
As if an afterthought, Makovu reaches for Moto’s hand. She just stares at it. Makovu goes ahead and grabs it anyway.
“I knew, even in the beginning, that I would have to pay a price… And it turned out that it cost me everything. The things that mattered the most. My soul. I made a deal with the devil.” She shrugs. ” I knew that. I knew that the price would be high. I knew that ultimately, it would destroy me. Funny, isn’t it, that my love for him drove me to do this, and now that it’s all over that’s what I had to give up? I knew right from the start that to do this… It meant goodbye.”
He was beautiful, Mkali realized. They all were, in a strange, twisted way that hurt her. They were the distorted reflections of Kwanza whom she had known.
Tell me your thoughts! Did you have a favorite? Or were they all just too beautiful for words (I hope they weren’t because I love comments so much!)? Do you have a favorite character? If I were to interview one of them, which one would you like it to be?