Tag Archives: Waiting

Blues Buster: Stars (Waiting on a Dream)


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 Stars (Waiting on a Dream)

From his perch atop the city, it seemed he could see the entire world.

Below, electricity wreathed the ground in a geometric web of light, winking and flickering in the frigid cold, like a supercharged network created by a techno Jack Frost. Twinkling gold lit up the entire spread of community; interspersed with blinks of red and green ruling the roads, and swathes of neon crawling throughout downtown.

The docks rose in the distance, towering cranes, great shadows on the horizon and the harbour lights danced on black water. The river snaked like a python, like a dark chasm amid the lights and city sprawl, and moved silently through the urban spread until it flicked its tail and faded into the glow on the horizon.

He stared intently at the mathematical placement of roads, intersections and buildings, at the strings of lights that threaded the cityscape, before casting his eyes heavenward and releasing a sigh.

Stars glittered and the moon hung in the indigo sky like a silver marble.

He laughed inwardly, his lip beneath his whiskers curling lightly. He shivered and blew into his cold, weathered hands as the dark sky and dotted galaxies sneaked through his coat. He turned his attention again to the metropolis at his feet.

As he drank in the view, he shifted his weight on the park bench and pulled his camel skin coat close. The city had been his for a while, just a while, just enough to make a name for himself, but there was more to life than fame, and more to this city than cold, twinkling lights. There were better things than your name in lights, better things than hard, gold statuettes, better things than this.

He had no regrets, but she’d been gone for a while, and he missed her.

He liked hearing his name on the lips of others, but no voice beat hers. He adored the cheering of the fans, but her smile was worth more. Oscars shone on his mantelpiece, but no accolade was as soft and satisfying as her sweet kiss.

“I’m coming home, sweetheart…” The words barely left his lips, but they whispered in the raw night air and warmed him.

For a few moments his rheumy eyes wandered the city, remembering, and finally came to rest on the small patch of grass before him. He recalled the young girl kneeling there, staring down across the city in wonder, before leaning over to kiss him. He closed his eyes to capture the moment.

The night wind blew across the city, and up the hillside, chilling his bones and messing his unruly white hair, and he smiled. “I’m coming home…”

Snow began to fall. Soft, thick snowflakes slipped from the sky and grey clouds gently moved across the hillside. The morning would come and the city would slumber beneath a blanket of white, and a lone runner, atop the hill, would alert the authorities to the snow-covered mound on the bench. Blue lights would ride up the hillside, despite the snow, and headlines would be made, but it wouldn’t matter to him, because he’d risen far above the cityscape, far above the snow – and had returned home to the stars and to her soft, sweet kiss.

(541 Words)

My entry into Jeff’s Blues Buster over at The Tsuruoka Files. The prompt song is Lee Ranaldo’s ‘Waiting on a Dream’ and my interpretation took a while coming, but I got there!

Five Sentence Fiction: Pirates

The word for Five Sentence Fiction this week is: Pirates and if anyone remembers my Faerypin entry: Waiting, (Please read for full story) they’ll know there’s a pirate story still to be told: This is the conclusion…

He promised to return; he left his gun and blade and she said she’d wait, and as his ship sailed, he watched her standing alone on the shore, wishing he was holding her cheek to his, her salty hair shining with a halo of gold against the rising sun and her skirts, heavy with broad leaf weed, hiding her new, long legs, still shimmering with reminiscent scales…
Unhurried, his ship traversed the waves, the ocean slapping her wooden hull, and he watched as she disappeared behind the cliffs; one last quest and he’d be hers.
As he stepped away from the bulwark his feet froze as her voice, clear and pure rose over the boom of the sea…her song, keen and true…and tears slipped down his weathered face as his band of buccaneers paused, unable to bear his siren’s song.
He could never resist the plaintive call of his lover and moments later the depths had claimed the hearts of all and his boat lay abandoned in the neighbouring cove.
For years she would wait…and sing…until the day the waiting deep would welcome her return. 

Faerytaleish: Waiting…

Just couldn’t help myself…my second entry to #Faerypin: (300 words)

He’d promised to return. He’d left his gun and blade and she’d waited.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, tears of salt and ocean sparkles.
He’d not returned.
She touched her face, tracing the briny trail to her lips with the cold steel of his firearm, and allowed her head to swim in the misery of defeat.
She’d waited a week, two then three…
The gun, heavy in her tightly clenched fist, weighed as much as her heart and a useless sigh escaped disappearing on the wisp of a zephyr.
Three months, three years…or was it more?
She wandered, placing one foot exactly in the recently vacated imprint of her foot on the soft sand and the other in its neighbour. She walked the beach from one end to the other and back again.
When she gave up her water-born inheritance and lost her tail, he said he’d return.
And she still waited, staring across the bay from one rocky outcrop to its twin on the opposite end.
Just one last quest and he’d be back; one more adventure and he’d be hers.
His sword brushed her skirts as it hung at her side, tangled with corded dead man’s bootlaces, and streamers of broad leaf weed slapped her legs as she paced and the ocean snatched at her toes.
Oh how she’d loved toes, squidging them in the sand, and legs, twining hers with his…but now they walked day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, but still he was gone.
But this day, today, the sea urged her on and withdrew further, and her walk took her around the headland usually buried in the deep.
The ship…barely a ship, his ship…lay in the cove, lost and abandoned and she knew he could never return. And she returned…to the sea.