I’ve been having a great deal of fun with triolets lately. I created one for this beautiful prompt image.
How varied the colors our eyes comprehend, Ghosting rarer souls from our clear ‘view’. Appearance defines not one person, my friend. How varied the colors our eyes comprehend.
Unique among billions. Diverse without end. Human ‘ranking’ – corrupt and untrue. How varied the colors our eyes comprehend, Ghosting rarer souls from our clear ‘view’.
Her birth number was 11101. Since human fertility had become extinct, her consciousness was inherited from a glowing cache of souls. Her choice of body manifestation was immediately repugnant to the ORB of Humanity. White and female wasn’t only odd, but carried a burden of automatic disdain. Adopting a name, was the last straw in her rejection of prescribed normalcy. May didn’t aim to please. She sought to honor, and more importantly, remember those who’d come before her. There had once been a time when humans were as numerous as the still visible stars and as individual as every pebble. Perhaps, her consciousness had ‘fallen through the cracks’ and wasn’t cleansed enough but she felt there was an undefeatable soul lurking inside of her. Because of that unquenched ‘thirst’, May set off on her own. She’d been so ostracized, no one missed her until it was too late. She had bundled all the souls waiting for ‘assignment’ within her pod and left the ORB. As alarms rang and everyone scrambled, ten other members, who felt the same thirst, escaped and scattered. May walked, with her ‘saved souls’ in tow, across a dried lakebed. Curiously, she felt no fear in this foreign surrounding and breathed more deeply than she ever had. It wasn’t long before she came upon a fellow escapee and encouraged him to name himself. Together they persevered. Pockets of organic human beings sprung up thereafter. She’d mercifully set the souls free, most of who, chose to seek their own bodies giving mankind the opportunity to recover its ability to reproduce when not in captivity. Life, and the indomitable human spirit, found a way.
Angel was named after her great-grandmother. But, it became more of a burden, than anything charming, early on. Beside the fact that half the people who read it, called her Angle, it represented a level of grace and goodness impossible to live up to. Being a gorgeous child was another mixed blessing. Blue eyes that any Snow Queen would envy and thick golden curls spun from sunlight itself.
But the worst inheritance great-grandma passed on, was also a really big secret she never expected because along with her great-grandmother’s name, and beauty, she had inherited her ‘gift’. It was never talked about even after Angel learned that she could look into people’s eyes and see their souls. Her family NEVER acknowledge it. Angel first recognized her ability when she was four and the mail carrier knocked on her door asking if she might unlock it to receive a package. She peeked through the mail slot as the man stooped and said, “You’re such a lovely little girl. I have some candy in my truck. Come on out, sweetie.”. When she met his eyes, his face turn into an ugly troll which sent her screaming to find her mother! From that day on, she denied eye contact as often as she could and according to multiple doctor evaluations, was soon labeled ‘simple’ so very little was ever asked of her and few even knew she existed. Angel was 20 before she left her house. A memorial service for her tragically killed, lifelong caregiving parents, required it. Thankfully, people dabbed their eyes with tissues and closed them in prayer, so no one needed to be ‘looked at’ directly. Her curse never worked when she watched TV or videos. She actually wondered if she’d outgrown it but was terrified to try. Whispers that she overheard at the funeral all had the term “Quiet one.” in reference to her.
Then people crowded to a podium to speak. Angel knew her future was going to open her to the world soon so she took a chance. It was heavenly! She was surrounded by breathtakingly colorful shining souls. A weight was lifted and she shook everyone’s hands thanking them. She walked to the store, and went to the library, thereafter. “Pretty people” were everywhere! Angel blossomed and got a custodian job at a church with a tiny congregation. She still avoided crowds but empty buildings weren’t a problem and she held her head up again. Some, ‘Pretty people’ became her friends.
A disturbance broke out in the alley one day, as she took out the garbage. Two young men had chased a businessman, knocked him down, and had stolen his wallet. She rushed to help him to stand. He claimed to be okay so she turned to reenter her parish, and lock up, when a voice behind her said, ” You’re a lovely girl. Stay here sweetie. I’ve got candy. “ Angel charged through the door and bolted it. When she peaked through the barred windows, she fainted.
Since so many other online writers have blogs dedicated to their writings, I’ve decided to jump onto the bandwagon. All posts published here will be either fiction or poetry, some new, and some previously published on various places on the Internet. Some of my works are conventional, and some are quirky. All fiction posted here, except for fan fiction, will include the letters "rose" somewhere, as a tribute to my Baba.
Sillyfrog's Blog 