Winter
03.12.10
She has only to smile at him once, and Spring is her slave. He gives her all she asks for and showers her with almond blossoms. She dances around him and bestows upon him nothing but her playful smile and the twinkles in her eyes. The weeks pass, and Spring feels himself grow weaker as her platinum hair darkens to a soft gold colour, and her playful dance takes on a heat he finds a little disconcerting. She still offers him a smile or two, but the twinkling is now aimed away from him, at something on the horizon that he can’t quite make out yet. As it slowly comes into view over the next few days, the realisation dawns on him. He falls to the ground in agony, and in his death throes he is aware that he lies on a carpet of crushed almond blossoms that were trampled by her pretty feet.
Her golden hair glows so bright that Summer can but be besotted. He warms the streams so that she can swim and cool herself, and chases all clouds from the sky. Her hair glows in sunlight by day and starlight by night and he worships her more than the Sun itself. He lays greens and yellows on every path she is likely to cross, and she gifts him with with the warm smiles he craves. Alas – he fares no better than Spring in the end. As the days race by, her hair takes on a darker, gentler hue and embers glow where fire once flared. She crosses the next divide and throws him one last, scornful smile as he falls dying into the lush grass and fat, warm raindrops fall onto his face, mingling with the tears on his cheeks.
Her auburn hair enchants Autumn so, that he lays her the reddest of carpets for her to walk across. Solicitous as a chill breeze picks up, he throws upon her shoulders a shawl that could have been woven by the Earth herself. Its rich brown colour sets off the tones of her hair and he walks behind her transfixed as she progresses, inexorably, to the next horizon. As time dances away, he notices with despair the darker shades that are taking over in her hair. The nights draw in and he tries to keep her hair burning red a little longer by building bonfires when she stops to rest; what red remains in her hair reflects the flames and he sighs with relief. Soon he can no longer clutch at even this straw; her hair is only a shade or two away from deepest black. She blows him an arrogant kiss and he falls into the sodding carpet of leaves, the pain in his chest etched onto his face in a grimace.
She comes now to me, with a saucy smile and an exaggerated sway of the hips. She sidesteps around me with a coy smile and expects me to come running – offering blankets of pure snow perhaps, or stalagmite tiaras. I turn my back and start walking away; it is such a shock to her that an audible gasp escapes her. I keep walking, in no doubt as to how the events will unfold. First, she will screw up face and pretend to herself that this is of little import. Then she will look around her at the arid, grey landscape that she finds herself in and uncertainty will wipe the pout from her face. She will look in desperation back to Autumn, but he is gone and nothingness takes his place. Finally, the wolves in the distance will sing their eerie song, and the chill of terror will start to make its way along her veins. Then she will call out to me.
Ah! Here it is – the pleading cry. In no rush, I stop and turn to face her. Her hair is darker than a moonless night and her skin is devoid of any colour. Her teeth are chattering and her lips are turning blue; she holds out her arms and offers herself to me. It is all the license I need – I stride to her and shackle her with my chains of ice. She looks at the manacles and finally understands: what goes around, comes around. We start to walk as I lead my prisoner further and further along my territory, to a horizon neither of us can make out. As the weeks pass the blood coursing her veins becomes colder and colder. One day soon it will freeze; she will then crumble into a crystalline powder and I shall stop in my tracks as the Darkness shrouds all once again.
Related Posts:
Tags: Autumn, Fantasy, Flash Fiction, fridayflash, Seasons, Spring, Summer, Winter
At first I thought it was a cycle of seasons, but you ended it much darker than that. 🙂
I too thought it was an annual cycle, but if it was, it was the last one. Spooky.
Hmmm…first of all, interesting take on the seasons being of male gender. Kind of turns my thinking on its head. So, was “she” a goddess of seasons? What ever she was, this was poetic and haunting. Winter can definitely bring darkness to my world, too.
Beautiful.
Wonderful how you used her different hair colors to depict the changing seasons.
Beautiful descriptions throughout.
You’ll have to tell us who “she” is.. otherwise it will just drive me bonkers.
Gorgeous portrait, Mazzz, seriously beautiful.
I knew there was a reason I love winter so much.
Beautiful, love her hair.
It doesn’t matter who she is. Every year dances through and past the seasons and leaves them all gasping as they give it up to the next, until, of course, the year herself gives way to the next. Winter only kills because it’s last. Pretty stuff, Mazzz.
Yup, David’s got what I was hoping to convey 🙂
Oh, how lovely this is. The dance through the seasons, the beginning of the new cycle found within the end, the death, of the old one. Power given is power transformed. Beautiful work here.
Take care,
Jess
No matter how you want to interpret it, this is simply a beautiful story. Where has the narrator been hiding and watching all the time? Or how else does he know about it all?
This is gorgeous and it gave me the chills. A beautiful and violent way to describe a year, starting out so full of itself, ending up the same way, always. I love “stalagmite tiaras.”
Beautiful!
Excellent personification of the seasons and you use such beautiful language. I really felt this one.
“As the days race by, her hair takes on a darker, gentler hue and embers glow where fire once flared.”
What a beautiful striking sentence amid many, many others. This is lovely, Mazzz. Crafty choreography.
One of your best yet. You are so very gifted. I’m speechless as to offer a proper sentiment of how much I enjoyed this piece.
I felt enchanted as I read. Beautiful imagery, pacing, language. Wow.
Well written as always. There is a strong poetic sense to the whole piece.
Beautifully poetic, Mazzz. I always love your writing, but I certainly wouldn’t complain if you decided to write more stories in this style.
This was an excellent story. Beautifully written, and the descriptions were fantastic. Well done!
I loved this story. Haunting and surreal. I loved how she overcame and destroyed the first three seasons, but was herself overcome and imprisoned, eventually to die, at the hands of Winter. Great story on a microcosmic level involving the seasons. Nicely done!
Beautiful sentences throughout. Makes me sad though that winter won so easily. (I’m a winter hater, must admit!)
“He falls to the ground in agony, and in his death throes he is aware that he lies on a carpet of crushed almond blossoms that were trampled by her pretty feet.”
I want to die like this now. 🙂
Very well done!
The graceful flow of seasons,life,age. Wow-this was fabulous. One of my favorites. Brilliant!
Wonderful combination of poetry and prose here. The imagery is lovely!
This is the most lyrical piece of yours I think I’ve read, but it works supremely well. I was swept along by the language and metaphors, which is my most favoured type of writing.
Kudos
Marc Nash
Well, she certainly got hers. I liked David’s interpretation, but I would like to believe that, instead, Winter had conquered the cold, uncaring cycle of mother nature. We’re in for an eternal frost, colder than the heart of the one who left her lovers dead at the roadside when they failed to amuse her.
Maria, this was one of those pieces where I didn’t really understand what I was reading but it absolutely didn’t matter as it was so beautiful. I loved the changing hair too and how she shattered into pieces at the end. To be rebirthed in the spring? Or by spring? Very cool flash (no pun intended!)
oh
My
GOD
That was awesome.
Brilliantly lyrical and poetic, I love how you mix visual imagery (the hair changing colour) with metaphor and suggestion. I enjoy pieces like this that are open to interpretation – always fun to be challenged!
For some reason this feels just like “someone”. That’s awesome. “Someone” too was going into and out of relations and then one day … well one day “someone” fell into shackles and found him/her-self bound and pleading for acceptance but … “someone” was just led to self-destruction.
Oh well …
…
That’s an awesome piece you have there… ???????????? and ???? ??? 🙂
PS: Love your hold over the language. Found myself baffled by some commas but I loved the piece in its entirety.
This is beautifully, beautifully written. Lovely use of colour and imagery, the power of the year gradually fading year till she is trapped by winter in the end.
Quite different from your normal, but stunning and I’d love to see more!
Virginia
This is my favorite thing of yours I have read so far. You really did a fantastic job with the power struggles and the helplessness of it all. A perfect read for me today, as winter seems to be trying to reclaim the ground it has already lost to spring.
I don’t know what I could say that hasn’t already been said. I hope, I love it and can’t wait to read more of your work, will suffice. Take care!
Oh my goodness, I am also speechless. This is beautiful. I was imagining the life cycle as symbolized through a year of seasons. But there are so many interpretations – which is one of the wonderful things. The imagery and use of descriptive words took my breath away. I kept thinking – you must get this published! Wow!
Very different for you Maria, and I love it,(not that I don’t like your usual fantastical worlds). 🙂 As everyone has already said, this is simply beautiful, magical. Just lovely.
Wonderful.
Bravo Mazzz.
I’m going to stop reading now that I have that tasty bit in my head and off to dream land for me.
Thankee.
Lovely words, as everyone above stated I also loved it! Nice to have given it more ways to interpret and then gather the attention back to the story 🙂
Wonderfully done! Excellent use of language in this, providing some keen imagery and a wonderful usage of the seasons!
I picture her to be Mother Nature of sorts. I loved the images and the poetry in this. It is quite a magical piece and the darkness you leave us with is haunting indeed. Lovely work. I can’t wait to read more of your stuff.
Incredible work. I can’t add much to the comments here. Very beautiful, including David’s additional commentary. Great, as always.