Thursday, March 8, 2012

New post.....

Here's a little something I started yesterday and thought I would share it with you.  It's going to be a short story, and I'm trying to keep it at five thousand words.  We'll see how well that works out :)  In the mean time enjoy the first part (wow, I don't even have chapters yet).



                                                             Tragedy
                                                                   BY
                                                              M.A. Kastle

Silently, softly as if it was a shadow of silk, darkness slipped in drinking the fading shades of twilight.  Ayniah stood at the window watching through gauzy threads of ice as nightfall revealed a cloudless sky and blazing stars in a backdrop of black.  Winter’s bitter kiss wafted through the labyrinth of fractures in the window.  It’s coming for her, the kiss, and she feels its chill curl around her shoulders as if cradling a lover.  All the while, the bright moon was sitting sated in the sky, casting its silver light on the thin covering of snow.   
Not caring if it was habit, her fingers dug into the soft thick sable blanket and pulled it tighter around her shoulders.  The truth, her truth sat in front her, the ice spreading like webs across the glass was on the inside, not the outside where it belonged.  The house, gray, broken, and battered from years of neglect and exposure to the seasons, lacked light, a fire, and warmth.  It was her tomb, her coffin above ground.  She wasn’t cold, and she could see through the deepening darkness as if was daylight.  It didn’t change the darkness and the cold from bringing crimson tears cascading down her pale cheeks, and a driving ache to her silent chest.  Sinking deeper into the blanket her thoughts and hopes that this night will be different from all the others falls dead.  The belief she was supposed to spend another night in the arms of her master turned her blood cold.  Not being able to stop herself, her lips moved in a silent plea for mercy or a lie. 
This was becoming a habit.  Mercy or a lie.  Hope was the lie.  They were all becoming a habit to fill the empty moments until he called, until he ordered her to find him.  She mumbled for mercy then pressed her fingertips against the glass, praying to feel its bite.  Mercy or a lie, she mumbled again and pressed her palm flat against the spider web of ice.  Slowly she opened her eyes to see the crystal fingers of ice grow around her skin and across the glass.  It’s no longer a window and no longer can she see the outside.  Her reflection stares back capturing her in the prism of her own pitiful gaze.  Her pleas fall to silence. 
Ayniah saw the truth of what she was, of what he turned her into, and again feels his hand inside her chest stealing her life.  With a kiss, he left her hollow.