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Flowering. Approach. Part 21: Connection

by Thavien Yliaster 4 months ago in Series
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Easy to make, hard to maintain.

"Flowering" is a series, just like its artwork, that is a work in progress.

Reader discretion is advised: This series contains death, violence, and sexual content. Flowering is not a lighthearted series. Flowering is meant for a mature audience. It is not my intention to mislead those who read it, thus misleading the perception of the series itself, leading your hearts astray.

Please, "take this lesson to heart." - LaRha and Wetah

By Timotheus Fröbel on Unsplash

As the sky rotated around them, Wetah was the world’s point of origin. The stars, the wind, the clouds, and even the blades of grades seem to twist and swirl around him. Crafting a wooden chain out of a tree limb, gingerly did he pop out the wood, piece-by-piece. Wetah saw the chain as already in there. Now, it was up to him to bring it out of the limb’s body, and into this world. What he crafted with his own two hands, he would birth into this reality. From the initial thoughts that roamed around in his head, to the deftness of his craftsmanship, he would bring the fruits of his labor into the world. As his idea and handiwork was the father, and the material was the mother, providing the groundwork to birth his aspirations into this world.

When he was done with crafting, stoking the fire, and heating some water, the sky started to turn bright past his shoulder. “I should go now, before they get up. They do like the sun, and the sun will come soon.” Walking into the hut, he tapped on LaRha’s shoulder, signaling her that he needed to rest, but more importantly, to connect.

Smiling at the sight of him. She moved gently as not to wake the children, and he took her warm spot on the mat. Wrapping his arm around the children, he brought them close to keep them warm. Xelu was clutching onto Zaria. Zaria was splayed out from the warmth, trying to get cool. Meanwhile Zephyr was closer this time, with his back resting up against theirs, instead of sleeping on the other side of the mat.

As Wetah moved his body closer, all three nudged a little, but they remained asleep. At least, that’s what Wetah initially thought. Zephyr moved his arm to the outside of his Dad’s and said, “I’m sorry.” This took Wetah by surprise, but pleasantly so. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I shouldn’t have done that. I just want you to listen to me.”

Patting his son’s chest, he said, “I forgive you. I’m sorry too. That’s not how I want to treat you as a father.” He breathed, “I want you to be better than me, but I can’t expect that if I’m not a better me first.” Then, with a long pause, he said, “I’m sorry. I love you.”

That day, even though the sun had risen, Zephyr had stayed inside the hut longer. Not waking until his sisters did. He slept at peace with them, though, earning peace was easier than keeping peace.

Throughout the next couple of days the family’s chores started to change to prepare for winter. The harvest was good, but it would not last forever. The rivers would still flow, but they would freeze over in parts. The land would become blanketed in snow unless it was a dry winter. If it was a warm winter then they would have to deal with more blistering winds.

Since the apologies, things have been better within the family. Sleepful nights with sunny days. Yet, the forest called out to Zephyr. He was curious. He wanted to explore the woods again. He wanted to see the deer. He wanted to see the rivers with their shiners, pinchers, and even whiskered fish. He also wanted to see if the tipi tent was still there. He wondered if she was still there.

As much as he wanted to see the sight of her again. When he thought about her, his wrist became tight. It remembered the strength she had gripped him with. His shoulder remembered the strength he had to throw the apple at her with. His ears remembered the scream she made, and how sad she sounded when she cried. His legs remembered how fast he was when he ran.


About the author

Thavien Yliaster

Thank You for stopping by. Please, make yourself comfortable. I'm a novice poet, fiction writer, and dream journalist.



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