Forgotten, but not Gone Through the thickening fog, a glimpse of a phantom, a shadow--another wandering lady by the side of the sea. As the waves bow low at her feet, their icy lips kiss her ankles in an attempt to soothe her soul. Not so long ago she held it--a precious orb of the most fragile glass, blown by an angel and placed close to her breast. But now all that remained were the shards, sparkling amongst her hair like stars, and holding out her hand for you to touch her one last time, you see the blood, forever flowing, forever reminding her of her sin. Katse

Woah. Short, yet really deep. Definitely makes me wonder who she is and what happened. ^_^ If it were the teaser for a book, I'd buy it in a half-second. It's beautiful prose.

This stirs up apprehension in me...it's beautiful and tragic. I want to know more.

Katse, You going to share? We want more!!!

Eloquent and emotive as always Kat! You know, I always thought you had the soul of a gothic romantic....er...with the sensibilites of a porn star. *grin*

I guess this means I have to figure out exactly what the hell I was talking about then! The second I come up with a story for it, I'll post it. Ít's now on top of my to-do list! Thanks for all the positive comments--most times when I write, I just pull stuff out of my ass. And this is an example of such. I guess my ass is quite creative. Katse

Shame you dont move it often enough to come up with more literary genius ona frequent basis!.. Move this piece to top priority on your to do list Kat...I dont know what it is...the fact that it actually hides more than it reveals, which makes ya want to know whats going on! a beautifully flowing surreal piece.

Thanks for the positive commentary! Actually, your reactions have prompted me to write more on this. It's actually the first piece I'm writing using the old pen and paper method in years. It's odd, because I found the start of another story in my files that fits perfectly with the idea I have for this one, so it's more like putting pieces of a puzzle together. I had forgotten how much I enjoy writing--how could have I forgotten? Katse

Some things escape us. Like the joy of needle and thread and canvas, rediscovered recently, after being set aside when the eldest child discovered joy in the same things.