"I, No More" by Luc
Posted 22 December 2006 - 01:02 AM
Posted 31 December 2006 - 10:10 AM
Posted 22 January 2007 - 07:38 AM
However, this one...Wow. It was great ^^
Posted 05 February 2007 - 08:26 AM
I, No More
Do you remember the moment you met the love of your life? The one you were meant to be with forever? The one that made you complete?
I remember it was winter. I was standing at the edge of the creek. It was running hard, oddly enough—the result of a freakish heat wave that had melted nearly all the snow, even the snow in the highest mountain peaks. The elders looked to the skies and shook their grizzled heads and prophesied doom. They always prophesied one form of doom or another whenever anything unusual happened. I had come to understand over the fourteen years that was my life that it was just what elders did. And if doom came, well, they were right and wise. If doom didn’t come, well, their prayers had successfully interceded with the gods on our behalf. It was a win/win situation for them. It was good to be an elder. But I would never be an elder.
That was one of the things I was thinking about, more or less, as I threw sticks into the water—two at a time, watching them race toward an imaginary finish line. I was fourteen, one year into manhood. One full year…and I had not taken a wife. That displeased my mama, though in truth I knew she was not keen on the idea of sharing our dwelling with another female. Not to mention that she was even less keen on becoming a gra’mama. But it displeased her anyway—largely because it displeased my father. Displeased. That was a bit like saying an angry hornet that kept stinging you and stinging you and stinging you was displeased. My father was livid. A full year into manhood and I had no wife and no prospects of one—not to mention no desire for one. It was unheard of. I was a disgrace. To myself, to my family, to my village, to my species—but more importantly, to him.
But I didn’t care. Not that day. Not any day, really. Though maybe that’s a lie, because sometimes I did care. Enough, sometimes, to think about “the consequences.” My father had a whole list of them that he recited to me almost daily. But most of them seemed only to matter if a person cared about what others thought. I didn’t. Not really. Not usually. Definitely not when the creek was running in the middle of winter and the whole world was poised on the edge of…doom. According to the elders. Except I didn’t feel that. It didn’t feel like doom to me. To me, it felt like potential.
I tipped my head back, closing my eyes, forgetting about the sticks I had sent off to race, and inhaled deeply. The air was odd. The freakish warmth that had melted all the snow and foretold the doom seemed to be coexisting with an iciness that was more normal for this time of year. Normal but not. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. Not for protection from the cold, because I didn’t really feel the cold that much. But because I wanted to hold that feeling inside me, the feeling of potential that seemed to be swirling around me, along with the wind that had just started to blow in from the southeast.
I had felt it before, though never this strongly. It had always felt as if something was tickling at my senses, playing around the edges of my peripheral vision. As if something was there, just out of reach, waiting. For me. Or I for it. Which was one reason why I had not taken a wife, why I would not, could not take a wife. If I did, it would end that feeling, would drive away whatever it was that waited. Then everything that was potential would be gone, and all that would be left would be the known, the predictable, the expected. I was not ready to surrender my life to normal. Not then. Probably not ever. But absolutely with complete certainty, not then.
That was why I knew I would never be an elder—because an elder had to take a wife, had to produce progeny, had to complete the circle. But that circle was not mine and would never be mine, because the other reason I had not taken a wife—and would likely never take a wife—was that it was my own sex that stirred my blood.
I snapped my head forward and opened my eyes wide. The wind that swirled around me now was cold and carried with it small crystals of ice, signaling what had to be the end of the freakish heat wave that had the elders in a twist. Crystals of ice. Snow, by definition, but colder and sharper than any snow I had ever felt before. It sliced into my skin like shards of glass, but I didn’t care because I could feel it. Something else was there, in that wind, in those crystals of ice that cut so sharply and deeply yet drew no blood. Something that had been waiting and would wait no more.
I opened my arms and welcomed it, embraced it, surrendered myself to it. I, also, would wait no more.
It entered my body through the cuts that did not bleed. No, it entered my soul. No, not it. He.
And by and by my Soul returned to me,
And answered â€śI Myself am Heavâ€™n and Hellâ€ť
- Omar Khayyam
I'm a review/feedback whore. I will "do things" if you read . my stories and tell me what you think
Especially if you post something in my discussion forums..
(...ok, maybe I won't actually "do things" because Mark would not like that...but I'll be very appreciative and pleasant and... ok, will shut up now.)
Posted 13 March 2007 - 11:05 PM
Everything you write is so powerful and evocative this is certainly no exception!