Ladybird, black spots on crimson red in the grass she crawls. By contemplating time and the space in which she lives, her future appears to me by denudation; I see obstacles in her way, dangers she will face. Should I permit her freedom to choose her way, even if she chooses the way of hardship and a spider’s web? I attempt to warn and guide her by closing doors with twigs and mud, but blood seeps from her knees as I become the anathema. So I retreat to let her lose or win, and in the grass she crawls away as blood seeps from my knees. God, let her win.
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Pamela Williams /Perthena#2476
"Every little thing's gonna be all right." :)
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Koyi wobbled to her shabby wood and straw kaz, holding her machete and an old burlap bag with some yams. Someone had laid another basket in front of the patched up door—rose apples today. They were a bright reddish pink, looking waxy and crisp, just the way she liked them. The culprit knew her very well. Those would be crunchy, juicy and sweet—she could tell—but she gathered all the will she could muster and pushed the basket aside to enter her home. She had already said no repeatedly and would not be taking bribes.
By Lily Séjor3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Oh my gosh, I love this! "but blood seeps from her knees as I become the anathema. So I retreat to let her lose or win, and in the grass she crawls away as blood seeps from my knees. God, let her win." Damn. I've never felt so much emotion for a fated bug before. I cannot imagine how you pulled this out of your lovely imagination; it's such a small thing, such a forgettable occurrence, yet you blow it up larger than life, and so utterly beautifully. You capture the God-like ability we have to hinder or help a small creature's path toward life so well here, that question of, "Should I let it continue as nature would intend in my absence, or does my presence assume my help too?" I adore how deep this micro story is. You're so talented!