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devilspawn — The Road to Somewhere - Stage2
Published: 2004-01-29 03:03:29 +0000 UTC; Views: 118; Favourites: 2; Downloads: 13
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Description
They all said it didn't lead anywhere. I disagreed.A pale shimmer of light glinted over the rough, black surface of the smoldering road. A high sun above cast an angry white light down on the tall, still prairie grasses. Still.
It had been just a week since the horrible storm swept through the wilderness. Screaming winds, beating rains, and thunderous roars had fled from the ominous black clouds. The ground quickly turned to mud as the water and ice were pelted down to earth as if individually thrown by hundreds of powerful giants.
After many terrible days, the storm moved on. It took weeks for the plants to grow back, and the prairie had been a dismal life of grey, brown, grey, brown... Then in a breathtaking leap everything changed.
Seemingly out of nowhere, millions of flowers began to spring up. "Little gifts from God," Tom had fondly called them. Every day, if it was sunny and warm, I would get out my paint box and canvas and go to the cool, shady spot under the last remaining tree in the field. As the leafy boughs gently swayed above my bent head, I would depict single flowers, fields, and even sections of the blank road using my oils and brushes. In the speckled light I created masterpieces.
I hung the paintings up inside our beaten shack. I would have picked some flowers to bring instead, but it felt as if even the thought of harming one of those children would mean instant chaos and destruction. Yes, children of the sun. He'd like that.
Across the fields of blooming faces the road beckoned. I could stare at the deep blackness of its surface for hours, painting every detail or trying to capture that feeling, the welling surge of emotions, that called out to me. It was almost more than I could bear. A tiny piece of my heart ripped with every glance in its direction, and sometimes when Tom went out to hunt I'd scream. Oh God, I screamed.
I think Tom heard sometimes. I could see the concern lurking in his eyes when he talked to me. I could feel him trying to reach out to me even when his gruff nature pulled him back. Tom, you don't understand. Tom, why can't you smell it in the air?
Anticipation. A yearning for what must be the inevitable. I couldn't sit and wait any longer.
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