Woww

"You taught me the courage of stars before you left

How light carries on endlessly even after death

With shortness of breath you explained the infinite

How rare and beautiful it is to even exist"

— Saturn, Sleeping at last

They looked over from the cliff, hand in hand, into the void. The presence of each other, the burning warmth of their hands and the intensity of their love was enough to null the feeling of loss, of loneliness and above all, the crushing hopelessness and suffocating fear. Here they were safe, they were determined and most importantly they were ready. And they were ready together. They did not possess the knowledge if their friendship would last more than one lifetime, but for now they would make it last forever, as long their flame burns and they draw their breaths, as long as their eyes glitter with determination. They will last. All was not alright, but it will be, and they'll be there together. They were enough.

"Watch a man flow with the river of love, watch him emerge and then watch him flourish."

Downfall

Short stories #3

. 3 Above and Beyond

Trudging through the woods, I try to place the majority of my weight on my makeshift cane. Squinting my eyes, I try to keep sight of my path. The moon is of barely any help. If I had known it would be dark I would've snuck out a torch. Pulling my coat tighter around myself and wishing, not for the first time, that I should've worn something warmer above my hospital gown. I buried my nose in my scarf and yet, the crisp air still burned down my lungs. If my cigarettes don't kill me first, the cold certainly will. 'You shouldn't be here', the guilty part of my brain whispered. I squashed that thought down just like the leaves under my feet. Silly Linda, I scoff. She thought she could keep me in the ward by locking the door. Well look now, I jumped out the window. Well the pangs in my leg are almost making me regret. Almost. Oh whatever. To hell with Linda and her false pretenses. She can act sweet and coy all she likes but I know she wants me dead. Not more than I do but it is a mutual sentiment that is reciprocated. She's far too young anyway. A bit naive and very gullible. Very overconfident too but she is under the assumption that she's being 'smart' and 'sharp' and that an old, miserable midget like me won't be able to see right through her. An absolute fool. I despise it here.

I hobble my way to my usual spot, a clearing somewhere in the middle of the woods. The crescent moon stares down at me, as if judging. Sitting down on a tree stump while catching my breath, I pull out a pack of cigarettes that Linda missed and a lighter from my coat pocket. A cold draft rushed and rustled the trees and I held my coat tighter, shivering badly. With numb hands I light a cigarette and hold the lighter close, the tiny flame giving me a semblance of warmth. Sigh. I wouldn't want the fluid to run out. I pocketed it, closed my eyes and enjoyed my cigarette. Deep inhale and then exhale. Inhale and exhale. Finally, some peace and quiet….

…. Which did not last longer than twenty minutes. A sharp, whip like crack sobered me up and I opened my eyes to a terrifying sight. A creature with four faces, more than a hundred wings, taller than the trees, so huge that I can't distinguish the sky from its body. The moon is nowhere in sight. His whole body consists of uncountable eyes and tongues. What on God's green earth is this!? I can't move. Why am I not moving? Its hellish eyes stared me down. The cigarette I was holding had long fallen. I am a stone, glued to one place. I can't tear my eyes off this- this creature. All too soon, it descends and shifts into a shape more recognizable. A man. Dressed in a pure white robe, inky hair curled in every direction, skin the color of rich soil and piercing charcoal eyes, this man would stand out among any crowd. I must be hallucinating. Are cigarettes supposed to make you hallucinate?

"What kind of alien are you?" I asked in a quivering voice.

The man blinked. Then blinked again. Then stared at me long enough to make me wish I hadn't spoken.

"What kind do you think I am?" he smoothly replies, evading my question.

"A shape-shifting one."

He folds his hands neatly behind his back and doesn't reply.

"And who would you introduce yourself as?" he asks. I have a distinct feeling that he's humouring me. Like a cat who caught a canary.

"I, well, I-uhm-I fancy myself a student." I stuttered out. He doesn't need to know where I am from.

"A student of?"

"Life."

The alien smirked. An uncomfortable silence surrounds us, uncomfortable for me atleast. I feel weaker. Sweat beads at my eyebrows. This alien's presence has a weight that is taking a toll on me.

With nothing to do, I whip out another cigarette. I finished smoking it. Then I pull out a second, then a third, then a fourth.

"How long have you been smoking?" the alien asks suddenly.

"A few decades." I say, lighting another cigarette. A hush falls again.

"How do you speak our language?" I inquired, anything to keep the oppressive silence at bay.

"I've been here before."

"Oh?" I ask, hoping for an elaboration.

"Yes."

None came.

"What is it like?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Your planet. What is it like?"

"It is a human's dream come true. You can have whatever your heart desires. Food, clothing, land, companions. It is eternal peace-"

"Sounds like heaven." I interrupted.

The alien's lips quirked.

"Something of that sort. It can be very beautiful or very terrible depending on the person."

"Why so?"

"Would you wish for good things to happen to evil people?"

"No. Not at all."

"My point exactly."

"What is evil anyway? Is evil caused by a difficult life?You know, I've always wondered."

The alien calmly looks back at me.

"Have you had a sorrowful life?" he asks, a curious gleam in his eyes.

"Sorrowful?" I scoff. "I can barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore. A saying goes 'Let a man walk the halls of sorrow. Whatever comes out, can it be called a man anymore?' " I asked.

"Sorrow is either growth or wasted potential if you have not learned. Power on the other hand, man cannot be trusted with power. It is too corrupting." the alien argues.

"I'll have to politely disagree. Power in itself is not corrupt. Power attracts those who are corruptible. Those who took the wrong lessons from their sorrows."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You have become a cynic only because you felt your life was difficult. Your cigarette is proof enough. It kills you, yet, you stick to it. Doesn't that make you just like them?"

"You are not a human. You don't, and maybe, will never, understand the delicate intricacy of addiction. I am not defending myself. I am ashamed but leaving it is no easy task."

The alien hummed," If you believe so. You are quite a melancholic person." he says, matter of fact.

"So I've been told." I smiled self deprecatingly, "Look at me, debating about ideologies with an alien."

The alien smirked, as if he was in on a joke I wasn't. Strange.

I cleared my throat. It felt itchy. Must've been the cigarettes.

"Anyway,how does your planet deal with 'evil' people."

"You need not worry your head over it. Our, ah, justice system is very fair."

"Oh. Where is it located? Your planet that is."

"Not here. It is somewhere above all the galaxies."

That most certainly piqued my interest. I have wished for death on my worst days but on my best days, I've always been a curious bug, too curious for my own good. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Why are you here?" I finally cave in to my curiosity.

The alien side eyes me and replies, "I'm here to take one person home with me. Forever."

A thrill raced up my spine and anticipation settled in my bones. I licked my frozen, chapped lips. Perhaps I am being selfish. I spent my entire life looking for an escape, an escape from everything, my depression, my poverty, my disease, that hospital and its disinfectant smelling wards, Linda, this wretched world. That is an artist's curse. Escapism, they say, is an art too and I am anything but unacquainted to art. I always wondered about what was beyond, a place where no man had stepped. The golden threads of time, weaved into the fine fabric of the universe, permitted this opportunity to occur in front of me. I will take it even if my hands bleed.

I have no family that left, nobody who loves me. I'm bitter and alone. I deserve to be selfish for once in my life. To take a big leap, a risk. Yes, I will.

"Take me with you." I begged. "Please."

"Why should I?" the alien replied, staring right in my soul.

"You came for me. I know. If you didn't you wouldn't have landed here." I say, hopefully.

"And if I say that is false? What else would you offer?“

"I can offer you beauty and art. I can create for you."

"We have many of those."

"There will ever only be one like me. Just like there is only one artist like them. Themselves only."

Silence enveloped us again while rejection stung my chest again.

"Allow me to prove myself." I plead.

The alien looked at me, questioning.

"Look in my mind, see all that there is." I say determinedly. And I let him in my mind, let him see the world through my eyes and feel what I felt. I let him see my arts, my music, my poetry, my paintings that I crafted lovingly with my aged hands. I let him see what a human sees, something I know that he had never witnessed. Then I revealed my sorrows. Hopefully humanity would appeal to it.

With a pull he left my head. My eyes burned and I felt a blood vessel burst. I dry heaved on the dead ground but the nausea still lingered. I am glad I was seated or my knees would've buckled and I would've been an undignified heap on the floor. All the while the alien just stared and stared. I am getting sick of his staring too.

Once again, I broke the silence.

"I will paint your skies," I continue, hesitantly, "and your buildings and walls. I will write for the children and even for the old. Just please, take me. I'm exhausted ."

My eyes burned again, unshed tears waiting for release. I avert my eyes and let out a sigh. I feel heavy and my shoulders slump. Unexplainable exhaustion overcomes me and my temperature keeps rising, beads of sweat rolling down my face.

"If," he began,then stopped. It was the first time in our entire conversation that I saw him hesitate.

"If," he continued, "if I were to ask you to scream your wish at me, what would you fear more; your echo or my answer? “

"My echo", I reply instantaneously.

"Why?"

"Because it would mean you have declined."

"Hmm. Recite a poem for me."

I gave a shaky, hopeful smiled and offered him my words:

My river by the oak tree

has turned molten gold again,

as the glowing orb of light and life surrenders to the sapphire sky.

The cotton clouds float in shy, pink circles

While the rush of the river awakens a memory I had long forgotten,

When this same tree once bore luscious flowers,

Their scent wafting lazily into the cool breeze,

While I sat and reminisced about the possibility of other lives in the universe,

Under the wrinkled, silver moon.

Silence hugged us again while the impact of my weakened voice lingered in the air.

"Do you believe in other lives? Aliens and such?" he questioned.

"Yes I do, I mean you are here so that confirms it too."

"You are a funny one. No one has ever mistaken me for an alien." it grinned, crooked, as if a gesture it wasn't familiar with.

My body went cold and tremors shook it to its feeble core, my breath coming out in shallow pants. My eyes shut down of their own accord. The entity then spoke with a voice that might have held the weight of a thousand suns,

"Beyond the stars we go."

Katerina Marchenko on Etsy

The fantasy of the human being is infinite, enjoy the piece that you get.  By Key Monster

I wish to learn the history in your bones.

The Elements

Earth, the element of life, calmness, stability, prosperity, fertility and above all growth. Deep emerald hues, soft with the ever present warmth, the colour of nature itself. Eyes the colour of soil after rain, which glow amber and molten gold as the sunlight pierces through them. So reliable, yet unpredictable, stable but dangerous in its anger. Displeasing Earth would indeed be unwise. Watch as those emerald orbs darken to a shade thought impossible. Watch as those honey brown pools usually offering security turn into black holes ready to swallow you whole. You can't be saved from falling. There won't be any calmness that it once stood for. Its earthquakes loud and destructive with the roar of thunder in its might to prove, to punish those call upon its wrath. It will shatter you.

The wisdom lies deep in its dust. Earth is a metaphor for healing. The ambition to grow and over power weakness, a leader in the making, eyes glinting with the knowledge of a tale older than time itself. A source of reliability, trust and a home to always welcome you back, to hold you.

Earth might break and crack but it will heal in its own time, with beauty, because, oh my dear, Earth, after all, is destined to grow.

Water, the element of purity, mystique, charm, beauty and solitude. Dark sapphire eyes, making you believe that the royal blue sky is enclosed in those orbs, drowning you in their depths with you being a willing participant. Its quiet mystique will charm and call to you, the call of a siren. It will shimmer and glitter in ways you've never seen before, making you sink a little deeper, slowly slowly slowly.

It is the calm before a storm, the false sense of security. It will seduce, waves crashing and cascading over each other, its aroma in your lungs and its whispers of its purity in your ears, making you want to unravel the mystery before you. It will shimmer and shine prettily, as if in shyness, but look a little deeper, wander into the dense darkness and you'll discover the darkness within. At last you differentiated between the persona and reality, but it's too late, you are surrounded.

Dangerous yet graceful in its anger and destruction, its waves roaring louder than the wind, sometimes subtle but so magnificent, quite a sight to behold in all its powerful glory. You never mattered to it. You are one of the many victims that have ventured out to its mysterious beauty only to sink into its claws of deep, dark depths.

It is powerful and heavy and beautiful and it is, above all, aware, confident of its ability. It is unpredictable, sometimes calm and in control, other times wild and terrifying. But this is a ploy to subtly show who is in charge, because, oh my dear, Water, after all, is destined to lure and charm.

Fire, the element of rage, boldness, danger, destruction and raw passion. Those molten pools of lava watching you with smoldering intensity from which you couldn't look away from even if you wanted to. It is untamed, brash and its confidence and boldness outweighs every everything. Its path is set on destruction, it is meant to take over, to conquer. But when handled right, it provides warmth and light unlike any.

Its passion is what drives it, pure fury and anger, overwhelming and blinding in their intensity. Get too close and you might burn. These untamed, passionate beasts convince you in the existence of mythological creatures. It is like a feral animal and magma combined, trapped in a body far smaller than it. You can see it in those burning hellish eyes. Like a Phoenix this fire never dies, the spark might sputter and decrease. Just when you feel like you tamed this inferno of rage only for it to rise from its ashes, burn brighter than before and eat away at everything in its path.

Nothing can stand between fire and its goals. It will go to dubious heights to achieve what it wants. It is undefeated because, oh my dear, fire, after all is destined to conquer.

4. Air

Air, the element of mischief, flight and freedom. That one element that messes with all the other elements. Its mischief is quite often troublesome. That one element that ruffles all the feathers. It will blow away the earth, crack the moist soil, push water to its breaking point and spread the flames with relative ease. The embodiment of chaos.

Greys that merge into silver when alight with mischief and cheerfulness. Rarely do you expect something extremely terrible from them, because while it might be mischievous, it is rarely ever malicious. Its mood varies from time to time. Sometimes it is a force to be reckoned with. Its gales powerful enough to make the mountains crumble, the sea to part and the fire to extinguish. Sometimes or more often than not, it is a light, whispering, playful breeze, tugging at the hems of your trousers. But once in a while, just sometimes, it is quiet, tired and still. There is no sign of it.

It is a traveler, a free, restless spirit in all its childish glory, that is always moving, unable to stay in a place for long. The rules don't apply to it, it creates its own rules. While others are set straight in their ways, the air just doesn't bother with all the frivolity. It will transport and carry the echoes of booming laughter and giggles that were lost. It will carry the scent of sweet summer flowers and it will be the crisp, cold wind of winter. It will transport pollen after playing with it and it will blow leaves around during autumn, creating an artful mess. Air is the child that is left by itself and free to do whatever it wills, so it plays messenger and partakes in pointless mischief and pranks. It will push the clouds just to watch them float and it will create waves to watch them wash over the land. It will give birds leverage to fly, while playing with their feathers, and cooling the rest of the animals that can't fly. But besides all of this, it is the epitome of freedom and flight and, dare I say, the most powerful element.

Air is not held by down by expectations, it will do what it wills, whenever it wills because, oh my dear, Air, after all, is destined to spread its wings and fly to freedom.