Monday, August 29, 2011

Painting Stories #10

What I got:
It was a chrysalis of light and sound, woven together by the brush of energy she felt. The centrifugal force of magic lulled together so quickly that it hummed. It resonated through her fingers, electrified her skin and shown brilliant and burning in her chest.


Elaine Lowe said...

That was really lovely! I want to read more.

When the moon phoenix touched the earth, light blossomed. Heat shivered across the landscape, waking the world from it's blanket of ice. Before spring could return from it's forgotten past, the world had to remember the sun. Her death was cataclysmic and beyond beautiful, but her rebirth would remake the world.

Heather said...

How beautifully. You just sparked something that may develop into a full blown novel inspiration. Thank you my dear!

Tina Moss said...

So pretty! The image is beautiful and your writing has a haunting quality to it. <3

TS Tate said...

Thanks, guys...glad you liked it. And, C, I love yours! Beautiful as per usual. :)

Bryan said...

(With apologies for the obvious cribbing from The English Patient)

Her people have a name for each of the desert winds. There is the Li'Bet, the little mother, which comes from far to the south and carries with it the breath of the sea. There is the Rahall, the Rage, which turns the sky to dust and blots out the sun. She can name winds that bite, that cling, that guide, that whisper. Even her own name, Urta, she shares with a kind of wind, the hot stillness of the air that comes when all winds have fled.
In the language of her people, though, 'urta' can also mean the spike of fear that comes when breath does not, or the moment of hesitation before a choice. Urta feels all of these meanings together in a single moment, the fear, the choice, the heavy lack of motion in the night air. Despite her fear, she holds the nuances of these words in her mind, enjoying their roiling competition as she would savor the shifting flavors of lacunae-honey, hot and gritty and sweet.
Far in the distance the forbidden place glows in the night like a star has fallen to the earth, its light staining the desert as blue as a noonday sky. This is nothing to fear, is not the reason for her urta. Her people have seen the forbidden place shine thus many times.
She stands in this moment of choice and fear because for the first time that unearthly light is growing, stretching through the night as if carried by a high, strong wind.
A wind for which she has no name.

TS Tate said...

B, that was absolutely amazing but then, by now, I'm unsurprised by your talent and ability. Awesome, as always.