What Do You Want?

"What do you want?" She asks.

He replies, "I want what you want."

She shakes her head and smiles, "But, that's what I want. I don't need anything from you. I don't even need you. I don't know what you want, but whatever it is - THAT's what I want for you."

"It’s not about what I want," he says.

She replies, "Then what do you need?"

“I don't need anything."

"Then, why are you here?"

He shrugs, "To see you." He looks her right in the eyes. "I feel like myself when I'm around you."

"So, who is the real you?"

He shrugs, "You know me."

"Who am I to you?"

"A mirror."

"What do you mean?"

He looks down at his hands. "I can be anything to anybody, but you show me ...me. You don't judge me, push me, or expect me to be anything other than what and who I am. I try to play a part, but you see right through me. The way you look at me, I can't hide." He looks back up at me. "I sometimes hate you for it. Sometimes I hate I can't do the same for you. Your mask is too tight, and your walls are too thick."

"What does that mean?" She asks.

"It means, I want what you want, but you don't have any fucking idea what you want. You're so lost and I can't help you."

With tears bubbling in her eyes she answers, "Then I want to be found."

"You can't."

"Why?"

He tenderly touches the side of her face. "You won't stop running."

"I don't want to run. I hate running."

"You can't help it. That's all you know how to do."

"Couldn’t someone stop me?"

He shakes his head. "You have to stop yourself."

"I have, but there's no one ever there. No one looks for me. No one waits. No one fights. No one tries to keep me from leaving. They're Gone. They're all gone and I'm always standing alone."

He cups her face. "You're not that 5-year old little girl left at the gas station anymore, or the young woman waiting for her soldier that will never come home, or the wife waiting for her ex-husband to grab her before she can run, or the mother watching her children fly the nest. Let her go."

"Then who am I?"

"A smart, beautiful woman, who has overcome some of the darkest hell a person could imagine. You have an amazing mind and a beautiful soul, but you're obtuse when it comes to you. Choose what you want. Then do that. That’s what I want.”

“I want you. Can’t I keep you?”

He shakes his head. “I won’t be your excuse.”

“My excuse?”

“The next reason you run.”

She takes a step backward. “So you reject me?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand.”

He reaches toward her, but pulls his hand back at the last second. “I know. That’s why it makes this so hard.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Then why won’t you stay with me?”

“Because you’re not here.

“Where am I?”

“Lost in a prison of your own making.”

“Where are you?”

“Outside waiting for you.”

She stares at him, slowly shaking her head.

“Trust me.”

“I can’t.”

“Then let me go.” He turns away.

Stay a Little Longer

*Flash Fiction/Short Story by T.L. Gray*

~

The second hand on the clock ticks, ticks, ticks away.

Father Time, make it stop. Keep me in this moment. Hold me in this place and time the way his arms hold me now. How long?

Sensations prickle all over as he runs his thumb lightly over my shoulders and down my back. A steady heartbeat sings to me as my head rests on his chest. He’s so swarm, so hard, so safe, so beautiful. The scent of him makes me dizzy. My whole body worships him, aches for him, even now as our legs lay tangled. How long?

I’m home in his arms. Please stop, clock. Please let me stay a little longer.

Where do I end and he begin? The most delicate flower, so intricate, so complex, doesn’t compare to his beauty. His eyes, more dazzling than the darkest rose. His scent, more intoxicating than the honeysuckle. His beautiful skin, more exotic than any lily. The power he wields over me, more potent than the poppy. How long?

I lay bare before him, more than skin, more than flesh, all of me open and exposed, every deep and secret part of me, my soul, my heart. How long?

I’m lost in his arms. Please stop, clock. Please let me stay a little longer.

When we come together we become one. We burn hot. When we turn away, magnetic polarity ensues and an invisible force comes between us, pushing us apart – life, yesterday, tomorrow. The world dims. I become numb, a pile of cold ashes. How long?

The second hand on the clock ticks, ticks, ticks away.

~

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

One Last Night

*A Flash Fiction Piece by T.L. Gray*


Gray clouds billow above the white foamy surf as fog rolls like a trampling stampede upon the surface of the cerulean sea. The crash of waves upon the rocks reminds me of my lovers tryst; the sea spray our wild release. I stand at the widow, staring out at the cold, magical, monochromatic morning, my chest heavy with sorrow, but no regret.

The view before me blurs amid the hot, silver tears as they fill my eyes. I flush as each warm memory fills my mind’s eye. I wrap my arms tight around me and let the images take me back, take me into our one last night.

~

Dark eyes stared into my soul, undressing me, exposing the deepest part of me, stealing my breath.

Strong, gentle fingers slowly traced the side of my face, moving slowly down my neck, and onto my shoulders, shakily leaving a trail of prickling anticipation and sweet adoration.

I shivered.

He smiled.

I let go.

Two hearts beat in unison as our bodies converged into one, staring into each other’s eyes, feeling the love, forgetting the world outside. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered. Giving. Receiving. Loving. Worshipping. Sharing. No words. No promises. No lies.

My eyes grew heavy as my head rested on his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, feeling the comforting warmth of his arms wrapped around me, his fingers gently caressing me. A perfect moment.

I didn’t look back as he left. I couldn’t.

~

I now stand empty, cold, and alone. I can still hear his gentle breathing and feel the lingering sting of his touch, but only as ghosts and silhouettes. I walk toward those cold, crashing waves, letting go of my will, my fight, my resolve, shedding my earthly shell and the last tendrils of my humanity. I disappear into the abyss.

Death holds his bony fingers out toward me and asks, “Was it worth it, your one last night?”

I take his hand, look up at him, and smile, “What night?”

One Hell of a Ride

This is a short story I posted for a contest. It contains characters of other stories I've posted here, but older. It didn't win, but I thought I'd share it here.  Enjoy.

Pushing through the thick brush, Tammy shivered as a lone wolf’s howl rent the air, causing chill bumps to pop up all over.  The silvery moonlight covered everything with a shimmering film, as a thick, green fog slivered across the ground. 

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Jude whispered behind her.  “Why can’t we just go back to the campsite?”

Tammy felt something strong draw her into the woods.  “I have to do it.” She knew the answer to her escape lay ahead, somewhere in a legend.

Jude growled.  “I don’t understand why you have to do this.  You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone, me most of all.”

“It’s not about you.”  Tammy stopped, turned and faced Jude.  She reached out and placed one of her hands on the side of his strong, bold face.  “You’ve made your choice, now it’s time for me to make mine.”

Pushing forward, the sound of crickets and the smell of stagnant water assaulted Tammy’s senses as she sloshed through the soggy moss and putrid swampland.  Her breath caught as she pushed through a tangle of dead branches and the skeletal giant of twisted, rusted iron appeared before her, like a ghost forming out of the mist.

“Holy shit!” Jude exclaimed from behind her.  “That’s jacked up.”

Feeling her lips spread into a wide smile, Tammy answered, “I think it’s beautiful.” 

“What the hell is a rollercoaster doing out in the middle of a swamp?”  Jude scratched his head.  “This isn’t right.  This whole thing smells wrong.”

Tammy marched forward, walking between the legs of the coaster, which were buried deep into the soggy earth.  She stared at the rusted frame above her.  Jude followed close behind.

“This is the way out,” Tammy said as she climbed a set of rickety stairs to the tall launch platform.

“That’s ridiculous, Tammy.  This is a roller coaster.  It doesn’t go anywhere but in the same loop.  It ends up where it begins.”   Jude stood on the platform and pointed out into the foggy distance. “There’s nothing out there.”

Tammy placed a kiss on Jude’s soft lips and then stepped into the front car.  She sat down and pulled the rusted safety bar into her lap.  She looked back at Jude.  “No, that’s not true.”  Squeezing the bar with her sweaty hands, she said, “Staying where we are, going around in the same circles is where nothing lives.  

This…” She nodded toward the rusted track.  “…this is where living happens.”

Jude clenched his jaw and ran his hands through his hair.  “That coaster is nothing but ups and downs, curves and hills.  It doesn’t go any fucking where.”

“It’s life, Jude.”  Tears welled in the corner of Tammy’s eyes.  “It’s living.”

Shaking his head, Jude answered.  “No, Tammy.  That’s nothing but a rusted track.  You could die out there.  Just get the fuck out and come back with me to camp.”

Warm tears slid down Tammy’s cheeks.  “I’m sorry, Jude, but I can’t go back.  Being in that swamp, in that fog, in those woods …that’s not living, babe.  We’re lost.  We don’t know where we are, how we got here, but I can’t stay.”  She wiped her cheek and nose with her shoulder as she gripped the lap bar. “This is the way out, I know it.”  She looked up into his hazel eyes.  “Please, come with me. I love you.  I need you.”

Jude took a step back and shook his head.  “I can’t.  I’m not ready for this. I need… time.”

Tammy closed her eyes, pushing more tears from beneath her lashes.  “I don’t understand, but I can’t make you choose.”

The coaster creaked and then roared to life.  The metal rollers screeched across the rusted iron rails like the call of a banshee as it shifted and lunged forward into a slow crawl.  Tammy looked back at Jude, “I will love you forever.”

“Please stay.”

The coaster entered the upward climb.  Her legs shook in nervousness, her teeth chattered, and her heart pounded against her chest. She held her breath, not being able to breathe as the coaster reached the top of the summit. 

At the pinnacle, she met deathly silence as the coaster came to a full stop.  She looked over the side and below her a green fog hovered over the ground, exposing only the tallest peaks of the coaster.  She saw no woods, no swamp, no platform, no Jude. 

The coaster inched forward.  She gripped the lap bar as her fear reached its apex.  She let out a long, slow breath, released her grip on the safety bar and lifted her arms into the air above her head. 

The coaster lunged forward and then plunged into an endless dive.  Tammy screamed as loud as she could, releasing all the pain, fear and helplessness bottled inside.  Every moment of rejection escaped into the air, and for once she felt truly free as the coaster raced along the rails.  She would not close her eyes.  She would not grab hold for safety.  She wanted to fly, and that’s exactly what she did. 

The dark green-gray sky turned to a bright-brilliant blue.  The rancid reek of swamp melded into the salty tang of sea spray.  The empty, hollow howls of lone wolves became replaced by the gleeful screams and peals of laughter from fellow coaster riders. Tammy grabbed the lap bar as the coaster came into the bay and stopped at a freshly painted platform.  As she stepped from the car, she felt the dark memories of a beautiful pair of hazel eyes evaporate from her mind.  A lone image standing on a haunted platform faded into a silver mist. 

“Tammy!” A bubbly girl ran up to her and draped her arm over her shoulder.  “So, how was the ride?”

Tammy felt as if she left something important behind, but she couldn’t remember what she forgot.  She smiled. “That was one hell of a ride.”

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Related stories:

http://www.tlgray.blogspot.com/2013/08/want-my-marble.html

http://www.tlgray.blogspot.com/2013/08/tag-youre-it.html

http://www.tlgray.blogspot.com/2013/09/new-friends-part-iii-of-adventures-of.html

Finding Hidden Treasures

I remember a time when writing stirred such an excitement, often keeping me up all through the night as beautiful words swirled in my imagination and then shot out the tips of my fingertips onto the page.  It’s such an erotic moment, euphoric even.  I’m not saying I still don’t have those moments, but I can confess I’ve let the business of writing and marketing take too much dominance in my life that it’s squeezing most of those moments into the land of the neglected.

Not only has my own creativity suffered by being too business-minded, but so has my enjoyment of reading the beautifully written words of others.  As someone who devoured a minimum of fifty novels a year, so far this year I can count five.  My focus is so much on business, survival and meeting basic needs, I just can’t get lost in a good, long novel, not even ones I’ve waited months and even years to be released. 

I can’t express how much I appreciate my writer friends who dabble in flash fiction and short stories, because those have sustained me this year, or else I’d have been lost.  I’ve really come to love and appreciate flash fiction and short story writers like Christian Fennell, Jeff Suwak, Kelly Shackelford, Sarafina Gravagno, Frank Wall, B.R. Asher, Lucien Knight and a few others on Scribophile.  Their stories have fed, nurtured, inspired and sustained me as I work hard to clean up this train wreck of a life. Some of them don’t know how much their words have helped me. I crave them.  I need them.  I look forward to their next blog posts, short stories, and their next flash of humor, romance, satire or tragedy. 

My writer friends have also inspired and pushed me.  My best friend, Jenna Sands, has inspired me more than she’ll ever know.  Those members of my local writer’s group who refuse to let me quit or give up (Denise, Maggie, Kathy, Lorien and Dawn) will always have a place in my heart.

I used to be a novel snob, only reading full length (often epic–sized) novels and never giving short stories a furtive glance.  I’ve grown such a fondness for them now and am sure I will always keep them a beautiful part of my life as I once again focus on my next novel.  I’ve also grown an appreciation for the novella.  I really hope it comes back in fashion and more writers dare to publish them.

What hidden treasure have you stumbled upon lately?

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

Http://www.tlgray.blogspot.com

http://www.authortlgray.wordpress.com

Tag, You're It! Part II of the Adventures of Jude and Tammy

Tammy hung upside down from the domed monkey bars.  She loved the way her arms hung free below her head, with the tips of her long auburn hair almost bushing across the ground as she swayed gently back and forth.   She thought the world looked funny from that angle.  People weren’t as big and scary, and she could never see the angry expressions most grown-ups carried on their faces.  Upside down frowns looked like smiles to her. Her world just felt better from this point of view.

Reaching up, Tammy pulled her favorite object out of her pocket.  It was a beautiful tiger-eyed marble her new friend Jude had given her. It was one of the big ones, too.  Not one of those little marbles nobody really cared about they called ducks. She often felt like one of those forgotten, insignificant marbles; just one of the same among a dozen. But Jude didn’t give her one of those, he gave her the best one he had, the one she admired most.  She loved the way the inside swirls of gold and black sparkled in the sunlight, a lot like the way Jude’s eyes had the day before.

“You’re going to get your hair all dirty hanging like that.”

Tammy moved her focus from the sparkling marble to the upside down form of a little boy.  He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his patch-worn jeans.  “So, dirt don’t hurt.  It’ll wash off.”

“Your mama won’t get mad at you?”  He kicked a stone with his foot.  “My mama gets mad at everything. ‘Specially when I tear holes in my jeans.”

Tammy pulled herself upright and then jumped down from the monkey bars, landing in the sand right in front of Jude.  He stepped back, but kept his hands in his pockets. She closed her little fist around the shooter, and put her hands behind her back so Jude wouldn’t see it and take it away from her.  “What ‘cha doin’?”

Jude arched one of his eyebrows as if Tammy had asked the dumbest question in the world.  “I’m standing here talking to you. What else would I be doing?”

“Wanna play tag?” Tammy brushed a strand of hair out of her face. 

With a shrug, Jude answered.  “Okay, but I do the chasing.  I don’t like girls chasing me.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause they don’t do it right.  That ain’t the way it’s ‘sposed to be.”

“Says who?”

Jude scrunched his brows and crossed his arms over his chest.  “Says me.  Now you gonna run or not?  I ain’t got all day.”

Tammy lightly punched him on the arm and shouted, “Tag, you’re it!”  She took off running, zig-zagging through the playground equipment and then onto the nature trails that webbed through the park.  She loved the trails. She loved the woods.  She loved the thrill of the chase.  She didn’t have to look back to know he was there, she could feel him behind her, keeping pace with her almost step by step, but he didn’t tag her. 

Soon Tammy forgot she was playing tag and stopped at an old fallen log covered with moss.  A fat, black beetle skittered across the top.  She knelt down next to the tree and watched it busily make its way across the moss.  Jude plopped down next to her and watched the beetle too.  They both sat mesmerized at the beauty and wonder of nature.

“Where do you suppose he’s going?” Tammy whispered.

“Probably back home to his mama,” Jude answered and then looked back over his shoulder the way they had come.  “My mama’s gonna be mad when she can’t find me.”

Tammy nodded her head.  “Yeah, mine too.”

“You taking care of my marble?”

Tammy smiled at him.  “You mean my marble?”

With a shrug, Jude answered, “Whatever.”

“Yeah, I got it right here. I take it with me everywhere.” Tammy tapped the outside of her pocket.

Jude stood up tapped Tammy hard on the shoulder and then took off running, yelling back over his shoulder, “Tag, you’re it!”

Want My Marble - Part I of the Adventures of Jude and Tammy

*Here's a piece of Flash Fiction inspired by a conversation I had this morning with my best friend.  I hope you enjoy it.

• 

“I got you now, you evil beast!” Jude bent low, lined his favorite tiger-eye shooter with one of the dozen or so multi-colored ducks surrounding the inner hole.  The knees of his jeans already sported patches from the amount of time he spent on the ground playing his favorite game in the world - marbles.  “You thought you could hide from Jude Singleton, but …” 

He poked the end of his tongue out the side of his mouth, closed his left eye so his right could get a better view, and with his thumb and steady hand, he flicked the large gold and black-swirled marble toward its target.  It shot across the dirt and gravel toward a small hole dug in the center of a large round ring, surrounded by several other smaller marbles.  Jude held his breath and watched as his favorite shooter bounced, bobbled and weaved its way toward the center, knocking the nearest duck closer to the hole.  He opened his closed eye and sat up as the red-swirly edged closer to the rim and slowed to an agonizing crawl. 

Moving more sluggish than a snail, the marble seemed to have almost stopped.  Jude raised his dirty hands, partially covered his face, but through the finger-slats kept his eyes peeled on the marble as it drew to a stop.  His jaw dropped and Jude was about to let out a long line of exasperated expletives when the sparkling-red glass ball moved another micro-millimeter and teetered on the rim of the hole before finally dropping in.  Jude jumped to his feet, arms and fists pumping the air in victory, as he continued his earlier phrase, “…no one gets away from the Marble Mutilator!”

“The Marble Mutilator, what’s that?”

Jude froze. Every muscle in his six-year old body tensed.  He cut his eyes at the source of the voice that invaded his fantasy, and then his head followed.  “That’s me.  Who’re you?”  His voice exuded a crass, irritated tone, but it didn’t match the feelings flooding his little body, or the strange thoughts coursing through his little mind.  He little hands went to his hips and he turned to stand in front of this strange angelic creature he quickly identified as …a girl.

“I’m Tammy Greenleaf.” She smiled at him, revealing a small gap between her two front teeth. She looked past Jude at the small collection of colorful marbles still sitting in the dirt.  “I like all your pretty marbles.”

Jude huffed.  “Marbles ain’t pretty, and neither are girls!” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Tammy ignored his outburst, and though she wore a yellow-flowered sun dress, she dropped to her knees and surveyed the position of the marbles on the ground.  She pointed to the gold and black-striped shooter Jude had just recently used.  “That one’s the prettiest of them all.  It reminds me of my cat, Leo.”

Jude plopped down next to her and quickly snatched up his favorite shooter.  “I said marbles ain’t pretty.  They don’t look like cats either!”

Cocking her head to the side and smiling at Jude, the sun light caught the green, gold and brown specks in her hazel eyes and reminded Jude of some of the beautiful colors he admired while studying his marbles. “Well, I think they’re pretty, and so are you.”

Eyes bulging, Jude blinked several times but found he couldn’t move.  Without thinking, or even under his direct command or control, he held out his favorite tiger-striped shooter to Tammy.  “Want my marble?”

Tammy looked at the marble, then back up at Jude before she leaned in and placed a soft, wet kiss on his cheek.  He stopped breathing.  He sat petrified as she reached out and took the offered gem.  “Thank you,” she whispered.

A few seconds later, but what felt like an eternity to Jude, feeling returned to his body and his mind started to once again turn.  He looked down at his empty hand and immediately felt despair.  “Girls!” he grumbled under his breath through gritted teeth.  “They should all be shipped to Mars.”

Jude shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out another shooter.  This time it was a solid white one he called Snowball.  He bent down once more in the dirt and lined his shooter with his next target, but not before he cast a quick glance at the swing set to notice Tammy sitting there, her beautiful hair blowing in the wind, holding the tiger-eye up to the sun in admiration.  

The Greeting of Equinox

I once fell in love with a tree. I celebrated its beauty, dancing among the brilliant colors of gold, green, yellow and red of its leaves, when the first snowflake fell. I took no note of the gathering gray clouds. Though I shivered, I ignored the cold. Dancing made my heart beat faster, adrenaline rush through my veins, and endorphins brought a sense of euphoria; a semblance of happiness. A snowflake landed on my lashes, melted from my body heat and ran down my cheek; the first of many tears to follow.

The air grew frigid, the skies darkened, and I watched as the leaves fell from my beautiful tree, the object of my desire, the tall glorious symbol of my admiration. Helpless to stop the winter storm, I became lost in despair, numb because the pain overwhelmed me, and frozen in fear as a statue. Before the last of my body crystallized into ice, I watched the last leaf fall, flutter through the air as if carefree, and come to rest on the cold, hard ground. As it touched the earth, my heart stopped beating as I entered winter.

The snow fell and its accumulation slowly buried me with my gaze locked onto my tree, for it no longer bore any fruit. Surrounding it, stood other lifeless, fruitless, leafless trees, and my tree reveled in their company. Its bony limbs served as a constant reminder of the loss of its glorious leaves. Though I knew my tree, it no longer resembled the beauty it once exuded. My mind’s eye remembered, and a small hope remained for my tree to return to me. But as the fierce winter winds blew, my fractured heart became frozen; broken.

Believing the winter would never end, I finally forced my eyelids closed and the vision of my tree disappeared with one last icicled tear. I tuned out all feeling, all sound, all senses, and embraced the darkness; I died inside.

~

A warm wind blew, bringing a soft musical note with it, disturbing my cold, silent grave. My hearing followed the sound, though distant, muffled, and strange. Desolation sharpened my senses, and a desperate need to hear again filled me. Too afraid to open my eyes and gaze upon my tree, I feared the notes came from it. But it did not, they resounded all around me. Some came from the left, some from the right, many from behind, their notes soft, beautiful and full of hope.

I tried to shut them out, but they kept playing their song, one after another, sometimes blended together and sometimes all at once. I felt the ice that covered me begin to crackle and split, and I heard the constant drip, drip, drip below me, adding tempo to the melody. Then I silently screamed in pain as my heart shuddered and let out the first beat.

I felt the shards of ice fall away from my eyes. As fear rushed through me, I opened my statue lids. There stood my tree, its bare limbs full of new buds, ready to bloom, surrounded by dozens of others ready to dance before its beauty. My heart skipped a beat at the possibility of greatness my tree could be, but only one beat. For no longer could I call it my tree.

Something else grabbed my attention – a song, a familiar sound, a beautiful melody. My eyes unfocused on the tree and with great effort, I turned my gaze away, and shook away my icy shell. Flying all around me fluttered song birds of spring, reveling in the warm sun shining down upon me. Their harmonies and melodies filled my heart, and for the first time, after a long winter, with the greeting of the equinox, I smiled.

My song birds called to me, their music mending me, filling me with new life, and healing the hole of my despair. I glanced back over my shoulder at the tree and released one last tear. As I wiped it from my cheek, I turned away, and once again danced.

Pure Notes

I've been inspired lately by my Muse to write a few pieces of flash fiction ...and this is one of the results.  I highly encourage everyone to dabble a little in all forms of writing, regardless of your preferred genre, style, etc.  

I believe that if you only surround yourself with like people, like surroundings, or like influences ...you will lose your individuality and become like ...  

Pure Notes

The winding path beneath my feet is not made of yellow brick or paved asphalt, but earthen clay covered in autumn leaves.  Tumultuous shadows loom behind me, and bare limbs reach out to grab me; to entangle, to ensnare. Chilled winds of uncertainty nip at me, making me shiver.

Bits of sunshine cut through the thick canopy above me, dotting the road, baptizing me in its glory and praise, but its warmth is fleeting. One step away ...once again in shadow, two ...more sun, three ...more shadow, but never sustaining, never sure.

Whispers echo through the pines, those evergreens, always in season, always the same in a forest of changing colors and varying scents. "Come, come," they call, offering a home among the woodland, the accepted majority, kings and queens of their kind. The path is narrow; the limbs push and pull, defining familiar trails.

Into the foggy haze before me, a part of the road lay hidden in the unknown, cloaked in obscurity, and masked with uncertainty, I hear a soft melody. Its rich tone entices me, pulls me, and seduces me with each pure note. My Piper sings to me, "Come, come!"  I long to obey, to fall under his spell.

The Pines, the Piper. A raging storm ensues. The Pines, the Piper. Calling, drawing, making me dizzy, and twisting me in knots. "Come, come," they implore. Spinning me round and around, entangling bits of my hair, ripping parts of clothes, slicing into my skin, till I'm nothing but a ragdoll.

I fall.  "Come, come," I whisper through swollen, cracked lips. "You've taken all I have …sans my heart."  Hot tears shimmer down my cheeks. "Come, come, if you dare. Who will save me?"

The Pines remain quiet, stiff in their pride, but in the distant a single, pure note weaves through the forest. My Piper comes. He appears out of the fog, followed by a gay crew of revelers. He stands before me, holds out his hand, a smile tugging on the edge of his lips, and says, "Come, come, my Lady, let's dance."

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