Posted on March 17, 2014 at 07:56:33 PM by Macabre
 learning from what sad cause he pours his tears? Love hears his ladies crying their distress, showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes because villainous Death has worked its cruel destructive art upon a gentle heart, and laid waste all that earth can find to praise in a gracious lady, save her chastity." Macabre was hardly a mare, still a filly in many ways, when she met Midas in the Crossing those years ago. He had been polite, despite finding her in the company of another stallion. She had seen something in him, some kind of good which propelled her to follow him home to the Quarry. The young mare was hardly in a position to be choosy, though in those days a sense of hope still burned feverishly inside her. Despite her privileged and blissfully boring upbringing, she was as timid as a stray kitten on the inside. Lost and alone, Macabre never found her way after losing her parents in the flood. In her weakest moments, she blamed them for not preparing her to live in such a cruel world. She had trusted too easily, clinging to anyone who evenly loosely offered her safety and companionship. And look where it got her. But somewhere along the way, she found Midas. She stumbled away from the shore and the deafening bellows of the crashing waves, nostrils flared as she struggled to calm her burning lungs. With her head hung low she approached the pearl-hued mare who watched her with relative interest, Macabre's hollowed spine pimpling down her back and protruding hips swaying with every haphazard stride she took in the loose sand. It wasn’t that she looked unhealthy. The petite mare’s appearance was merely frazzled - her short summer coat drying unevenly and the hairs clinging together in stiff tufts. Her mane dancing atop her topline in a lackadaisical fashion. She was far from being tone or fit, instead, her lean muscles drooped from the joints of her shoulders, neck and haunches. She truly looked the part of a nomad. A frantic eye studied the kind mare who - even in the dead of night - approached a stranger with a smile and a bit of charm. Good morning. Had a new day begun already? The stars still hung overhead, but they did not shine as brightly as they had when she begun her swim. "I apologize for the hour of my intrusion." She gulped, her voice hoarse as she struggled to stand upright, a slender muscle in her neck spasming in protest. She had always been well spoken, perhaps the only hint of influence from her parents that still remained. "But yes, I am looking for --" He soon approached, the stallion's heaving frame treading toward them in easy strides. He stood near the paint mare, a certain affection spanning between them. Macabre's dampened ears twitched back and forth as she watched their brief interactions, standing as still as possible as the seawater pooled at the bottom of her whiskered lips and at the lowest point of her round barrel, dripping slowly there, back into the sand. "I am not dead. Neither are you." She repeated, her gaze diverting to the sand. She had thought of the moments she'd spent with him occasionally over the years. The days they wandered through the Quarry and neighboring shoreline. The memories had almost all but faded, having been replaced with ones less cheery. "It seems the Quarry is, however." A wet tail spattered back and forth as Macabre whipped it between her quivering haunches. She needed to rest, but of course, owed both of them an explanation for her trespassing. "I don't mean to be a bother, but I have no where else to go." She said, her eyes wide and looking at the mare now. Never once did she attempt to look at Midas as she asked for their kindness. I saw him weeping there in human form, observing the stilled image of her grace; and more than once he raised his eyes toward Heaven, where that sweet soul already had its home, which once, on earth, had worn enchanting flesh." |
Replies:
- Peace isn’t a permanent state. It exists in moments - By Sýlvia March 18, 2014 at 00:10:32 AM
- only miss the sun when it starts to snow - By MIDAS March 20, 2014 at 02:59:04 AM
- Making love to a m e m o r y - By Macabre March 25, 2014 at 02:09:09 PM
- only miss the sun when it starts to snow - By MIDAS March 20, 2014 at 02:59:04 AM
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