She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the stars. With the exception of the Looney Tunes bump-on-the-head kind, of late Celestial wonders only existed within her name…
Celeste sensed Sad-urday lurking, muttering sombre remembrances. Dismiss the notion! I will not be the architect of my own discontent! A Sat-urday free of catastrophe had been tardy and delinquent. But somehow the Sat of sitting had evolved into the Sad, of knitting a tortured tangle of illusion.
Her once pristine mind now smudged with uncertainty, Celeste struggled to view through the clear glass panes she once knew, before she’d become un-upholstered, stuffed and stitched with burrowing agitation. She’d been infected with grief, infested with rage, hopelessness, and crusted with frustration. Smoke and Ashes hissed their disgust and offered trunks of memory.
Celeste sealed her psyche and submerged into a serene Alpha-state. Fear and manipulation regarded her Stalwart mind. Their sharp edges narrowed in on her bones, who forthwith rippled with power.
Her bones remembered the prior She: The one before the trauma. Her bones knew where the previous she lived and breathed and had resurrected her from their cell memory. Could She really be free? No longer masking possibilities in the downstrokes: she shimmered with fluorescent hope. She recalled a line from W. E. Henley’s poem.
She plunged into a calm recognition: of a time before the storm, before the sadness worn. It’s merciless thorns now shorn, satisfaction had become her benefactor. A joyous unearthly radiance secretly configured its expansive silhouette. The metamorphosis had begun.
Abundance rolled up her silken sleeves, extended in her hand a bouquet of blessings, beckoning Celeste to the bridge of the Infinite. The moment swirled with urgency. She tingled with hopeful quavers of anticipation.
Celest remembered her grandmother’s words.
She caught a rush of stellar slipstream. The light sparked within her as she played upon the moonbeams, swaddled in euphoria. She bounced on fluffly clouds of joy, and slid on a blush of rainbows.
‘Why haven’t I done this sooner!’
Though it had taken years, finally the Dark gaskets had crumbled, the leather straps were sheared away. Anchors, once chilling, were now brittle; shattered and vanishing, and in silence released.
Her heart fluttered with relief. The melancholia whispered no more. It’s corrupt lava of negativity had erupted and was dusted beyond discovery. Un-promise was elegantly transformed into wonder, glimmering vivid and perky.
Celeste swam deeper into the Alpha, found a home of cherish and sparkle, and surfaced plump with intention. Her happiness glowed till she reached empyrean revelry. It shone until diamond pinnacles floated in the mist and she heard the words, Congratulations, you are free.
Well done! I enjoyed this very much!
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Thanks so much!
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Very welcome!
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Very clever take on the prompts – you could say ‘the storm!’ It has so many layers it made my head spin 🙂 I particularly enjoyed the visuality of the piece.
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Thank you so much. 🙂
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After you said “Looney tunes”, the rest of the story became a cartoon! Also “Anchors, once chilling, were now brittle; shattered and vanishing” is a superb line, one that, in my humble opinion, caries one hell of a punch. Congrats on the great write!
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A cartoon- that’s so cool! Thank you for such a lovely comment.
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Very well written. Love the ending!
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Thanks Marissa.
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I love the poetry and rhyme to this. And always appreciate your careful word choices. Loved “bouquet of blessings, beckoning” “stellar slipstream” and “It’s corrupt lava of negativity had erupted”
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Thank you Nate.
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Wonderfully written. I felt the seriousness and the lightness even before the upbeat ending.
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Thank you so much. 🙂
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You use such beautiful imagery throughout this piece. It reads like a story but feels like poetry. Lovely take on the prompts! 🙂
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Thank you Suzanne.
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There are so many startling images in this piece – I especially like “Smoke and Ashes hissed their disgust and offered trunks of memory.” It has a real sense of dusty, heavy, useless fragments of the past being dragged along by a person as they go through life, feeling more and more weighed down by what they can’t shake off.
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Thank you Blake. That’s exactly what I was aiming for.
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Love the way the rhythm of the piece carried us along – and I especially appreciate your upbeat ending. This was a tough week to read, so much horror and sadness. It was really great to find a positive take on the prompt!
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Thank you for your kind words.
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So glad Celeste has found her way home! The past is gone. It’s okay to remember things but not to dwell. Beautifully written! 🙂
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Thank you so much. I was worried I went a little too poetic with my words. I’m glad it’s able to be understood.
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Well I understood the story fine. And poetic words add to the meaning. 🙂
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