Saturday, November 11, 2017

Revisit: "Dancing Near The Fire" by Minda Peyton


Please, Do NOT PRINT



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Dancing Near The Fire / Fai- yah by Minda Peyton


Chapter 1

My grief was black like the starless night, and heavy.
It hung in my belly like runes, tossed upon a cold, stony floor.
All day my grief consumed me, crushed and squeezed me, until I could barely breathe, then slowly, my grief melted like ice turning to water.
It turned into a burning pool in my belly, a burning hotness that spread outward fanning into a flame burning beneath my skin.
This heat pulled me, like a magnet being pulled by the poles of the Earth.
It pulled and I ran, free and wild, chasing the shadows in the dark night.

It was raining. My clothes clung to me like a second skin.
I chased the shadows through the woods, feeling the slap of branches on my cheeks, feeling the sting of thorny vine. I ran mad, letting the burning carry me.
I ran until I saw a fire in the distance. Although I was burning, I was also cold, wet flesh.
I neared the fire, hiding behind the trees.
I saw a tall figure hidden beneath long flowing robes.
I would have turned away, and ran back...but I heard music...Music?
Through the rain I could hear the soft, high whine of a violin, and the rhythmic steady beat of a drum.

This music enchanted me. I know no other way of describing the sounds...like air mingled with earth. It was like the wind playing upon your face while your fingers dug deep into the ground, like roots, downward branching webs.
Where was this music coming from?
I wanted to dance, I wanted to glide on my toes and shake my hips wantonly.
Within minutes I was dancing around the fire.



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