Exploits in Literature

 The sun was setting Strings pulled on her heart Pressure against her chest Her breathing rapid and irregular She couldn't catch her breath Waning strength  Exhaustion creating beads of prespiration Pushing against the pain It towered above her small frame  Slowly crushing the breath from her lungs The weight of every word telling her to forgive Forget her pain, experience, and abuse against her. The words that turned to acceptance and Giving to her abuser She couldn't beat against those words They echoed in her mind They told her that she did not matter The words did break her bones They wore down her sinews The ground below her was a bog It sucked her in with little hands pulling her down She couldn't get loose from the words Forgive Forget You can't seek vengeance You are wrong It's your fault You are the problem Give everything to God Forgive him They drowned her in pain Her heart, bruised and beaten,  Continued to overwork It was hard for her to breathe The bog...

She stared into the blackness Horror was filling her as it drew closer But it was not getting closer It swallowed her She searched for its beginning There was none A putrid smell envoloped her It came in waves from the blackness She felt nauseous Her head swam Invisible chains held her suspended  Inside the awful darkness that smelled of death No one seemed to understand She appeared alive to those around her But inside she was not A walking hollow corpse A ghost A mirage A whisp Who was she now?    

 Waves of pain washed over her. There was never any relief.  Just as ocean waves beat against the shore, thoughts of all the trauma she had endured continued to buffet her. She drowned in the physical and emotional pain that stayed with her always. There was no relief. She could sometimes feel as if there was a pause in the storm. She would be happy. Excited about new things. But then something would make her remember and it would come suddenly like a blizzard. She felt cold. Shivering against the icy fingers of thought that crowded and darkened her mind, she wrapped her arms across her chest trying to feel some comfort against the cold darkness. It never went away. It was like a ghost that would one minute be in a known spot and the next waiting to jump out at her when she least expected it. She tried to move on.  The grief was still there. The pain of losing a part of herself. A special part of herself. Pain was made worse knowing that she had never been protected. Neve...

Creeping into the small corners and hidden pathways of her soul, a quietness and emptiness moved. It wasn't a peaceful quietness. Within the darkness inside, she could feel it pressing in on her. Tendrils of emptiness that grasped at her, leaving a shivery coldness behind. The emptiness was like a dark cold desert inside her being. It echoed with the haunting melody of ghosts and whispers. Trapped inside the quietness, she could hear it ringing in her ears. The sound of silence. It engulfed her, knocking the breath from her lungs. She had done everything she knew how but it didn't help the emptiness that surrounded her. Cries resounded again and again. The cacophony of crows cries except there were words. Words. So many words. What did it mean to know them when they did not help. She could see her whole life before her and the dark spots where the memories were dimmed or hidden. She had worked hard in her life but felt like it was useless. She tried and did her best for so long...

Pressing against the walls as they close in, my head hurts from the weight. I am not pure. It rings over and over in my mind. The icy fingers of misplaced guilt, fear, anxiety, and despair pull every waking thought. Even when outside I am sunny, I feel hollow, empty inside. Words ricochet off of me as water off of feathers. They barely saturate the darkness that billows like storm clouds in my mind. At times, it feels as though the brightness of the sun dispels the black depths. It doesn't. Tendrils of ebony continue to seep deep into hidden crevices and cracks. In times of trouble, the whispers of darkness explode into a thunderstorm that threatens to drown its victim in pain and noise. Reverberating against the walls, the hurricane lashes everything in it's way. The noise is deafening. There is no way out. No going back. No way to change the past. It hurts. 

Across the vast sky, the shadows and colors danced. The wind mournfully flew around the trees and edges of the mountains and over the rooftops. A faint smell of spices and the sharpness of ice could be felt as the wind rushed by. Stopping a moment on the valley floor, she looked up. The mountain before her was spread to each side like arms waiting to wmbrace her and give her comfort. She stepped forward wanting to feel the warmth of that embrace, an embrace as of a parent or close friend. Her eyes closed as tears slipped down her cheeks. The warmth from the sun and the mountains embrace filled her with comfort. She felt the emotions and hurt slowly recede with a lightness filling the heaviness of the past. She rested in the comfort. 

  The smell of spices waft from a bakery as the cookies and pies for the Christmas holiday bake in the ovens. Outside, a chill is in the air. Forcefully, the wind sways the trees as it whistles through space. Along the streets, ivy and holly garlands are hung intermittently with festive red bows and glittering red and white candy canes. In the town square, a giant tree twinkling with lights and shiny ornaments stands high above the street. Below the tree, a life-size nativity reposes. The infant Jesus lying in swaddling clothes in a manger with his mother Mary and Joseph kneeling at his side. Surrounding the manger, inquisitive children ask their parents to tell them the Christmas story. The bustle of people, wrapped in coats and scarves, does not slow even in the cold.   In the five and dime store window, little dolls, toy soldiers, and play houses are displayed advantageously for all to see. With noses pressed against the frosted window, children dream of the ...

 Across the vast silver snowy prairie, the wind danced and flitted as a ballet dancer. Great gusts sent up small powdery clouds that settled after a moment. In the distance, the mountains rose sharp and black against the softening blue, yellows, reds and purples of the sunset. Before the mountain and amongst the trees at its base light glowed. A cabin nestled amoung the trees and hillocks. Moving closer, one can see that there is smoke from the chimney. Windows glowing with yellow homey lights, spread warmth into the cold gathering dusk. A little ways away from the cabin is a barn wherein animals reside warm against the gathering storm. On the wind, you can smell the spicy and biting cold of a winter blizzard. A man leaves the barn and firmly latches the door. A rope tied from the eaves of the cabin extends to a ring attached to the barn door. He makes sure it is secure then walks swiftly to his home. As the door opens, his wife looks up from placing the last dishes on the table fo...

 Golden sand shimmered under the hot sun. Figures floated and sparkled above the desert sand. Dust devils bounced and skipped above the barren wasteland. The only moving things that could be seen other then the ghosts of mirages were that of vultures silently winging on the breeze. Their beedy black eyes against the wrinkled red ugliness of their skulls gleamed and scanned in search of prey. Upon closer look, one can see the grey diamonds that mark the ratllesnakes back as it lies sunning on the rocky surface. His tongue flicking out and in as he searches the heat of the desert for his dinner. Nervously, a grey field mouse twitches his nose in search of any strange scents that the wind carries.  Amongst the saguaro, cardon, barrel, and prickly pear cactus, small bright colors intersperse the green of the cactus and gold of the desert sand.  More subtle to these flowers, the sand verbena and fairy duster add pinks and lavenders to the sandy floor. They mirror the pale pink...

Sighs echoed in the empty spaces. Rain beat down creating a cacaphony of sound. Clouds hang low in the sky. The green of the leaves and grass appeared darker. In the storm clouds, she could see melancholy. It matched her mood. She turned from the window. Another sigh escaped her lips, she felt  stagnant. Through the closed windows, she could hear birds singing. The wetness of the forest appeared as if a fairy-tale. The vines clung and draped across the trees like robes and ornaments. Even fallen trees and rocks appeared enchanted with moss cleaving to their surfaces. The wind gently whistled through the leaves and branches. Winding it's way on a narrow track, a stream gurggled and laughed it's way deeper into the trees. The forest was enchanted. A fairy land.  The rain had stopped. The clouds still hung listlessly above the trees. They seemed to want to gather courage to stay. Any moment they could erupt.  The trees reached leafy arms upwards. Remaining melancholic, the s...

 The sky was azure. Flittering and winging above the trees that lined the path, small sparrows and mockingbirds sang to each other. Uneven and rocky, the path felt solid under her feet. The smells of dust, flowers, trees, and sunlight floated around her. Covering her senses and body, the sunlight embraced her in a warm hug. She felt accepted.  The warmth spread into her bones. She felt refreshed.  The path widened. She paused, ahead stood what she had searched for. The canyon spilled out before her. Like a wide riverbed, the valley rolled and sank in hills and clefts. Standing on the precipice, she drank in the many sounds, smells, and colors that wafted upwards. She sat on the edge. Her eyes closed. She allowed the sounds and smells to engulf her. She smiled. It was peaceful. She was safe.  Serendipity

Her eyes sparkled with golden flecks of light. The copper of her shirt reflected in the colors of her eyes. Gently, the breeze swept tendrils of brown hair across her face. She absently brushed them behind her ear. She watched as the sun sank slowly behind the crest of the mountains. Her pencil scratching across paper was the only harsh sound. In the distance, she could hear the faint roar of a waterfall. Close by, the twitter and whistling of the birds echoed back and forth among the trees. As she finished the sketch, her eyes once again rested on the scene before her. It was beautiful. Tranquility. Dusk softened the lines of trees into shadowy figures. The mountain became solid ebony against a lighter sky. Rustling softly among the leaves on the ground, the wind skipped across the clearing. She folded her book and placed it and her pencils away in their cradle. Standing a moment, her eyes drank in the last bits of light that peered over the mountain....

Swiftly, the stream flows. Across the canyon, singing can be heard. Flitting against the sky, birds float on the breeze. Whistling through the trees, Fingers of the wind stir the leaves. Spiciness of fall can be felt on the mistral. Voices of chinook echo against the canyon palisades. Lapping against its banks, the stream gurgles its merry way. Over all, stillness lays its hand. the lonely call of the wild can be heard. Smoky clouds float aimlessly, As the sun's rays beat down. Winding through the canyon, the stream escapes it's confines. Buzzing of the bees can be heard. Through the trees, Mockingbirds sing sweetly. Everything is peaceful. ~Natalie~

Lapping against the shore, the water rushed forward and receded back. Its singing calm as it flowed back and forth. Winging above the restless waves, birds cry loudly. Sparkles mark the path of the sun against the waves. The sand, soft and wet, squashes between my toes. It's grainy texture feeling funny as I walk. The peacefulness wrapping itself around me like a blanket. Pushing away any fears. I brushed at the strands of brown hair that blew into my face. But grinned at the wind's exuberance. The sun began to descend. It was so peaceful. ~Natalie~

 Pressing against the cold panes of the shop window, The gleam of joy sparkled from his eyes. Light danced across the shiny figurines and toy cars. Each with it's own personality. Reposing against the backdrop of boxes or nature. They seemed alive to the young boy. Excitedly, the boy badgered his Mother for one. She smiled at his youthful exuberance and enthusiasm as she agreed. After all, it was Christmas. A time of giving He carefully picked a sleek blue sedan from the shop window. Watching impatiently while his mother made the purchase. Admiring it as they walked, his face glowed with happiness. Just ahead, a young boy in rags watched as they approached. The boy looked longingly at the other's car. Mother watched as her son presented the new toy. Gratefully, the young boy accepted not only the car, but the boy also gave up the candy and sandwich he had. Mother smiled, both boys were fast friends. It was Christmas. A time of giving. ~Natalie~

        The three-masted ship wallowed through the waves, groaning and sighing.  Stubbornly it fought to the crest of a giant wave then came crashing down the other side only to meet yet another one.  The ship, which was small for its kind was like a tiny toy being tossed to and fro to each whim of the terrible waves.  Its very timbers cried out to each other of the need to rest.  Because the wind was so strong the ship continued to be pushed and shoved till the very backbone was shuddering.  When suddenly, there was a calm that settled over it; the wind had died down.  From then on, the tiny ship rested easily and continued on its way with a sigh of relief. ~Natalie~