Monday, April 30, 2012

Monday Muse - Storm

My Muse decided to be a day late and several dollars short on the Sunday Scribblings prompt, but I figured better late then never so I'm overriding Miss Muse and posting it today.  :)
Helena ran from the building, flames’ as bright as her hair, licked her heels setting forth a wrath upon her.   What seemed such a simple inquiry turned the robe-clad man into a veritable tempest.

“Who do you think you are to presume to question His mind, His words, His feelings!”

Who was the answer she sought. 

Until a week ago, she’d spent eighteen lonely years in the Mount of Lost Hope orphanage.  The sisters raised her, if one considered three squares a day plus scripture, psalms and prayers enough, to understand the world beyond the austere walls.  She spent days steeped in exhaustive manual labor.  The deepest dark of the night brought whispers of her past, her heritage and little known facts which left her young mind confused.

Now as an adult, out from the heavy handed sisters, the nighttime voice came less often.  When they did reach out to her the words used were meant to arouse and entice.

Tonight, as she ran through the streets, shadows reached out to her, tempting her to sin.  Each corner she passed promised her a place, tempted her with more money and less respect than her current job cooking and cleaning at the local shelter.  Yet, like every other night she moved past them, determined to make tomorrow better than today.

Winds whipped viciously and gathered the mist to hide her.  The damp, wet air brought with it a sense of peace.

Closer to her shelter home, bursts of energy lit the night sky.  Each successive blast showed her shadow against the brick wall.  Beside her the silhouette of a winged beast hovered.

“That can’t be, can’t be…” Helena’s voice cracked and her hand went to the infinity shaped medallion left with her as a baby. “I will not fear that which is not real.”

Oh, I’m quite authentic, Helena Magda. One day soon you’ll see just how real I can be…

Helena swallowed a screech and beat feet to the shelter.  Each step contained a plea to the heavens for protection from God, Goddess or the Natural Mother.  She prayed someone would hear and protect her from the coming storm.

A Day in the Life of Serena 

Song of the DaySweet Caroline by Neil Diamond

Currently Reading: Riding Wild by Jaci Burton

Currently Writing:  The Submission (rewrites)  Editing:  The Submission

Quote of the DayLearning to ignore things is one of the great paths to inner peace.

Robert J. Sawyer


  1. Ah, the winged beast... be he friend or foe, or both? Powerfully evocative piece.

    1. Thanks Savanna! Right now I think he's a little bit of both. ;)

  2. The more strict the upbringing the more desire to break free. The winged beast will take her to great heights lets hope Helena has a parachute. Well written piece.