Three Short Stories Inspired by One Image (Foxtales #30 Entry)
The eyes she had caught in the mirror were gone. Once she was dressed, the hollows, ribboned in heartache, strands of lonely blue, would not look back at her. The puffy, worn skin, wiped clean of rough crystal tears, would remain, but the sore edges would crinkle in a smile. Her last alarm had gone off, and reluctantly raising her head from the damp pillow, she had dried her cheeks, telling herself she'd feel better if she just got dressed. She hadn't tempted fate with makeup, she could already feel the flimsiness of the resolve that needed to hold her up for the next sixteen hours. Cold air prickled the soft fuzz of her midriff, as she lingered a moment longer, pulling on her jumper. She let the velour fabric drop over her head, the shapeless form caressing her skin as it sank over her, trying to convince herself this was working. Faded gingham pyjama bottoms waited in a heap on the floor. She had to sit on the bed to put them on, barely trusting her legs to support her individually. The weakness had spread through her bones, eating away at her from the inside. She lay on her back, lifting her hips into the familiar comfort of well worn clothes. The small shreds of brave hope she had gathered together like autumn leaves, shifted. A stray thought turned inward sweeping into a gust, scattering the resolve from beneath her. She swallowed, the return of tears blurring her vision. The dark, swaddling embrace of the blanket called out to her. The urge to give in, to crumble back into bed, dug it's sharp hooks into her.
Staring up at the ceiling, into the endless depth of white, she began to count down from ten, delaying facing the world precious moments longer.
Her nipples puckered in her thin bra, exposed to the cold air. Her hands smoothed over her hair as the electric pull of the jumper whispered over her head. The vinegar volcano fizzing in her insides faded from her awareness, this was it. She had spent months, years, worrying about it, and now, in the moment, thoughts were lost to her. A tender hand reached up, gently grazing her waist. A confident grip embraced her, pulling her closer as she let the jumper slip to the floor. She forgot about what she was doing, what she thought was supposed to do, as the rough hand traced its way up her back, guiding her onto the bed, she sank into it. Instincts she never knew she had took over, each kiss sparking, a warm, urgent feeling inside her. Short nails fumbled with her bra strap, looking for the clasp with diverted attention. The silken bra fell away from her, the cold air dimpled her bare skin and she pulled close to the warmth beside her. A firm chest pushed into her, as a strong arm rolled her onto her back, and lifting her head, she chased the hard kisses. There, in that moment, the thing she had feared for so long, agonised over, even, in her most crazed moments of worry - tried to study, suddenly, came naturally.
She pulled the fabric over her head, slipping her arms through the soft folds, sinking her fingers into her hair. The heady, woody perfume, still clinging to the woollen fibres, washed over her, her head swimming with the scent. Light filtered through the material, cocooning her in its warmed embrace. Her breath filled the cavity, heating moist the air around her. She closed her eyes, the scent, the warmth, the soft touch of comfort, overcoming her. She pushed in on the feeling, straining as though eavesdropping on a distant conversation. Gradually, a vague, faraway sensation became more tangible, slowly coming into reach. First, came the heat rising over her skin, the feeling of sunlight washing over her, then the sounds, the snippets of bird song, the gentle gush of water through pebbles. It was there, she could feel it, the forest. She seized the sensation with her mind, grasping it, pulling it into her. She teetered on the edge, feeling the other side wasn't enough anymore. Normally she would pull back, return her mind to her room and get on with her day, but not today. Today, she kept pushing, willing the forest to grow around her. The light, filtered through the fabric, shifted, dappled by the moving leaves. Soft grass pushed between her bare toes, tickling her feet. She had it, she was there, she could feel the branches rustling around her. She leapt, letting go of herself, her life and her room, seizing the magic of the forest, embracing it as it engulfed her.
A slip of fabric, it's secrets sown into the seams, fell to the floor in an empty room. She was gone.
This was a bit of a spontanious post, I stumbled across a post and found out #foxtales was running again, I went over for a look, and was really struck by the image, so here we have three very last minutes, and unedited, stories. I wasn't planning to write or post today, but the deadline was coming up, and even though I have so very much to catch up on (<3) I ended up not being able to resist. Three very different stories from this one, a struggle with motivation, an experience less fearful than expected, and a magical transportation inspired by the ethereal green glow!
This was written for #foxtales run by @vermillionfox - there isn't long left at all this round but with such an enticing image, you may still want to give it a go, but if not, give her a follow to catch the next round!
Artwork by the endlessly talented @vermillionfox - a woman of inspiration and perseverance <3
Thank you for stopping by, love and sparkle
~ Calluna
A lovely three-entry post yah got here @calluna. As yah probably already covered in the end blurb, I need not expound any of the three. However, I feel as if all three were chronologically synced with each other in connection to the bed, sun, catharsis and jumpers. Regardless, 300-word entry #2 (Ironically named first while not being the first entry) and it's ;^ scene was beautifully nice. We need more of the [bleep]ing thing in our fiction (only [bleep] makes sense here because the anti-NSFW nannies patrolling oure perfectly good Xtian communities; lest of course I haven't realized the age demographics and somehow there's a decently chunk of pre-YA or before Youth Adults on here; can't be, but never know). But the third entry feels like a good start to some female (or non-male in general) protagonist SFF (Science Fiction and Fantasy) exploration novella~
I so totally would want a book that opens up with that entire para. Need a fix for some more fantasy in my SFF; otherwise, will gladly wait what yah think o' me entry to the lovely and fair @vermillionfox foxtales contest.
You've found the threads that run beneath :p and yep, this is the order I wrote them in, awww i'm glad you can see how one led to another despite them being separate. Hmmm that interesting, I tend not to post things here with anything like that in them, but more cos my family read things, and it seems weird. It is a part of life though, and to omit it completely feels wrong, eh i figured this was close enough to SFW for most people to be fine, and with that opening line, nice and easy to skip for anyone who wasn't. I had great fun not using pronouns for the second party though, I wouldn't have posted it but then thought you may appreciate that touch.
... now you say that... that is very much the sort of novel I could write. Yeah very much not enough of those (although that said, some of the classic, so well told you don't really notice it) unless you count anime that is ;) but i may well have to save this, and come back to it, thank you <3
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oh wow, thank you <3
Congratulations for your writing and drawing skills!!! You are awesome!!!😊👍
Steem on!!!
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Oh thank you very much, not my artwork though, it is provided as the prompt for the contest :)
Hello @calluna, thank you for sharing this creative work! We just stopped by to say that you've been upvoted by the @creativecrypto magazine. The Creative Crypto is all about art on the blockchain and learning from creatives like you. Looking forward to crossing paths again soon. Steem on!