Friday, April 6, 2012
and then i wrote this thing
Her robe billowed around her, the morning wind catching it just right. The black fabric, patterned with the delicate gold embroidery that she knew had taken had so much labor, was heavy enough to swallow her. It weighed at her shoulders, the huge sleeves fluttering around her carefully manicured hands. She focused on this, watching the pleated hem of the garment flowing away to her feet in lieu of concentrating on anything else.
If she thought of anything else, she'd surely go mad.
Barefoot, garbed in the light, gossamer pink of the Virgin, the two young women flitted around her. One finished pinning the matching pink streamers to her belt, letting them fall to the ground after the robe, to be detached in just a few moments. The other, her sleeves puffier than her long hair, arranged the robe's hood.
A crown on her head.
Slippers on her feet.
This was actually happening to her. Her hands were taken and she was slowly led forward, step by step, across the lawn and through the belt of trees that hid the Virgins from the world outside. She was led to her future.
- Kyla Denae