Upon the winds to the wild(Red)

[DoS Archive]

From: redsonyaxx@aol.com (RedSonyaXX)
Date: 22 Mar 1998 02:20:31 EST

Brushes lay scattered, disgarded and forgot. Canvas stretched and propped upon a stand, dusty enough that one could trail a path through with a fingertip. Paint jars full of brilliant colors, trapped by lids unmoved for weeks.

A single portrait, half hid by cloth remained in the middle of the silent chaos of neglect. Partial hints of the full features of the subject of the painting tantalized the imagination by showing shadowed eyes that held within them the depths of a soul. Eyes that held the richness of sorrow in full bloom, eyes that looked at the viewer lost.

The wind drifted in through the windows, the shutters locked back to allow the spring breeze to air out the musty rooms of the tower. The wind the only witness to the scene as it flittered through and out into the wilds again.

Beneath the portrait, she sat; knees pressed up against her chest, her arms wrapped firmly about her legs. Her face tilted to the side so that her cheek could rest upon her arm, at the elbow's crook. Her eyes staring into the distance, past the stone walls, past the lands beyond. Her eyes that were the mirror of the portrait, for those eyes were her own.

She felt lost and nothing brought her comfort. She had not touched her brushes to paint for weeks; her muse had flown to some unknown, unreachable place. Thoughts of promises, oaths, pleads; all she would do, not do, give up, strive for if only...

But those thoughts, pleads, oaths went unanswered, drifting with the winds into the wilds.