Just another orchestrated word spewing mind
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Kelpie - A short story

 White…A bright white light. The sound of rushing water beside her. Dazed, unable to regain focus. Each time her eyes come to open, they are heavy. Though she sees him. Wet black locks frame his chiseled face… His eyes…Oh how she became lost in them. She felt his hand upon the side of her face, the touch gentle and caring. Her eyes close again, opening. The white light was gone, and so was he.

 The distant horn causes her to turn her head slowly. Sky blue eyes come to settle to, at first, a blurry animal. Focus comes, and off to the side a magnificent stallion stands by…His mane held bits of kelp, as did his tail. Pelt is as if he were the soul keeper of the night himself. Feathered hooves pivot as he slowly walks over to her. Large head lowers before he comes to lay down beside her.

 Her hand reaches up slowly, feeling the locks of mane and kelp between her fingers. She takes hold, and with what little strength she has, hoists herself onto the back of the stallion. Long strands of honey tendrils drip water onto her already soaked frame. The midnight blue dress tattered and torn. With a flawless motion, the stallion comes to a stand. His ears swivel at the sound of the horn as it draws near. The faint barking of hounds soon follow, and at that he turns and runs alongside the stream.

 She clings to his mane, her body hunched over for her strength is gone. She could hear him, though. Hear his words within her thoughts.  

 "Trust me…Hold tight to me…“

  She did  not understand why she could hear him. Though she does cling to him, feeling the wisps of his mane against her own face as he runs. The sound of his hooves soon come to follow with the splashing of water with each step. A cliff off in the distance where water pours over draws near. She barely catches sight of it, her heart racing. Once more his words come to her, as if he knew of her fear.

 "Trust me…Hold tight to me…”  

  Arrows scream past them, and his pace quickens. The water beneath him crystal clear yet deep. Yet he does not sink. She watches as they draw closer…Closer to the cliff. More arrows fly by them, all missing their target and embedding into the trees or the grass or even the water itself.  

 And then… All becomes still.

 Her breath draws in as she holds tight to the stallion. His powerful haunches launch both himself and the rider over the cliff. Below, a large river awaits them. She had never seen such a clear river before. Oh how beautiful it was to see as the sun glistens upon the ripples. To feel as if she were flying towards it, as if the stallion gave her some ability to fly..Yet the feeling of his mane entangled with her fingers reminds her that she is not.

    Just as it appears they were to hit the water..White..A bright white light.

    The distant horn call and the wailing of the hounds fade. She could hear her breathing, hear the faint rustle of leaves as the wind dances through them in a symphony so tranquil. Slowly, she opens her eyes to see a forest that appears to have never been touched by a human hand. She goes to take a step forward, but a hand gently takes hold of her arm and she turns to see.

 He stood there, black hair framing his chiseled face. His eyes resting to her own gaze as his hands slowly come to slip around her waist as he guides her close. Left hand rises, softly cuffing her chin between his thumb and the crook of his forefinger, tilting her head up as his lips lower to press to her own.  

 They say to be careful by the side of the waters..For the Kelpie always takes what he pleases. Drawing in his victims before drowning them beneath the murky waters from whence he came.

    If this was death…It was the most alive she has ever felt.

 Copyright angelicadvocate 
5/19/2018

Disturbed Waters Still Flow


Upon the sea shall my dreams sail.

Upon the sea unto the horizon that never ebbs.

May sorrow be cast o'er port,

To sink to the unknown.


Set sail, I say.

Unto the horizon.

To where the Sun and Moon

Kiss pristine waters.


Do you hear the sound

Of the gentle breeze against the sails,

And the ocean’s waves splashing?

The perfect symphony for a dreamer.


Alas reality sets in,

An empty ink bottle before me.

The quill runs dry,

Yet the waves continue on.


-angelicadvocate

Speck in the Universe

Don’t mind me..Just read and you’ll understand, you’ll see..

As I look up, the time seems perfect: 5:15
No, there’s no significance in it - at least not for me.

How does the saying go?

Nothing is perfect.

And that’s true in a way. Though the numbers are almost a pattern of perfection, I lay here, being reminded of the time, in realization that it’s been a few nights since I have slept.

It’s the busiest at night. Like a raceway that is on steroids yet oddly organized..Yet too fast for me to pinpoint one thing to think about. Fragments of unanswered questions zoom by.

How’s mom doing? Is she really doing ok? My aunts and uncles.. Have I been a bad niece to not check up on them? Are they all ok? My cousins - when was the last time I had a conversation with them?

Friends..At times, unintentionally, I forget I have friends. (Yay depression..not..) Oh gosh, do they think I’ve unfriended them? What about the cat - food, water? Toys? Did I tell my daughter I loved her enough today? Is there really such thing as too much when it comes to to that?

(That is just a pin pick of the thoughts.)

I can feel ghost tears, the need to cry. Sadly my thoughts sweep me into a wave of various emotions that crying now rests on the back burner to boil.

What am I even crying for? Why can’t I figure it out?

Heh.. 5:35..Time you’re beautifully cruel..

..Please Mr. Sandman, even if it’s just for one night..

Please bring me a dream..

-angelicadvocate

Baubles

Books untouched,
Aligned perfectly.
Unmoving decor,
Collecting dust.

The clock on the wall,
Dead but beautiful.
Picture of flowers,
Unrealistic yet mesmerizing.

An old cobweb,
Vacant yet holding strong.
A glass doll,
With a smile none have complimented.

And then,
There is me.
In the dark corner of memories,
Forgotten, but well used.

-angelicadvocate

Detailed Frenzy

In the midst of a draining battery,
the sudden urge to write becomes adrenaline.
So here I sit
in a race against time.
Yet, all I can say is this..

Words, how you are so addicting.
So overwhelming that you need descriptive words just to describe a single word.

Complex, you are, words.

-angelicadvocate