Picture it & Write VII

Every fortnight the fantastic ermiliablog hosts a photograph suggested by contributors. People are urged to join in, comment with their paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. Poems, stories, even comments by readers are welcome.

He came to me in a dream. I felt his spirit hover above my naked body, moving languorously… sheathing me with a desire that burned so hot that every fiber of my body ached to respond… I kept my eyes closed knowing that I couldn’t — shouldn’t — look at him, fearing that the pleasure would abruptly end the moment that I do. He didn’t take me against my will… no… but he might as well have. I was powerless… and I wantonly gave in as his hold became stronger, his kisses more demanding… There were no words spoken and I dared not break the silence of the night. As if on cue, I spread my legs open… welcoming him… He poured the warmth of his desire in me as I writhed , my lips parted, and my breathing seemed to have ceased… I felt like I was a tiny bubble floating softly in the air… insanely happy… fragile… but inside filled with an intensity that rose higher and higher, threatening to burst… Then I did. I was blown into smithereens… infinitesimal fragments of gold and dewdrops and silvers of fire… and everything beautiful in this world… Rapture.
I awoke to find a golden egg safely tucked under my pillow. It was nothing like I have ever seen; it felt cold and heavy in my palm, with a luster bright enough to blind me… It was a gift… and I dared not sell it. Not even as my barrels went dry and I was left with nothing but a piece of stale bread. There had been many more presents from him that I discovered every morning. And I held on to them dearly for they were the only pieces of proof that he had been here the night before. Then there was that one night… the last one that we were to share. He revealed himself to me in full splendor and I shielded my eyes from the blinding light. My heart was filled with indescribable joy and he brought me to heights of unparalleled ecstasy. When he left, I ran after him… barefooted, with nothing but ivory sheets to maintain my modesty. Modesty… I sneered at myself. I flung myself at his feet… I wanted him to take me. But he ran his hand across my tear-stained cheek and lovingly told me that tonight, he has given me the most precious gift that he could ever give. With that, he raised his hand and I watched in awe as red, golden and blue rays carried him home. I was left there on my knees, staring at the purple, star-studded sky.

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My trembling hand rests on my flat belly. The wheels of my head turning. I could feel the life inside me grow stronger with each passing moment. I live in an era where people no longer believe in gods and goddesses. Having a child out of wedlock would cause me to be stoned to death. I fear for my unborn child’s safety and for my own. From underneath the bed, I pull out the wooden chest laden with godly treasures of gold and precious stones. I study them as they look back at me, sparkling obscenely. A plan has to be made.

© 2013 K.Z. Morano

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