The sun scattered freckles of light through the arching canopy of trees. Lifting her face to embrace the rays, our Princess rides at full speed. Immersed in the pure sensation of movement: her hair dancing behind her; the sound of wind thundering past her ear drums; the gentle slap of the air on her cheeks; eyes shining brightly in her up-turned face as she watches the light play between the leaves & branches over-head. She feels the purest joy of movement, a sensation of complete oneness with her own universe. She is the princess, escaped from her castle to run free. Her faithful hound loping rhythmically by her side.
She doesn’t worry for her own safety as she urges her mount forward, peddling faster and faster down the natural tree formed cathedral. Nothing can touch her as she runs free to worship her own religion. She has flowered to be the magical creature she always believed herself to be. Here the rules of mathematics do not apply. Here the real world isn’t allowed in and she can create her very own mythology.
From behind the trees the Wolf watches her with hungry eyes; the eyes of a hunter mentally devouring his prey. Her happiness tortures him with the razor-sharp knifing pain of longing. Her youth casts a twisted spell over him, creating desires that bubble under the surface of his skin. He can feel his fingers tingling with the urge to reach out and touch her light-soaked cheeks. Just one touch would alleviate his pain and distract him, if only for a moment, from the disease eating him from the inside out.
The Princess slows, exhilarated and breathless as she nears the end of the path. She prepares to turn back, to go back to her castle home. Dusk has started to leave her velvety fingerprints across the air.
Turning to her dog sitting panting by her side she exclaims “I’ll race you back”, leaping forward with laughter frothing in her throat.
Hurtling forward through the cooling and darkening air she sees the Wolf step out of the trees ahead. She slows as she approaches him, stopping barely an arm’s reach from him.
“We were racing” she explains slightly breathlessly
“I can see that” the Wolf answers “but now it’s time to go home.”
Smiling the Princess dismounts to walk beside the Wolf, pushing her bicycle as he turns in the direction of their home. Walking along, he reaches out his fingers to touch the smooth skin of her arm.
“I hope dinner is ready, I’m starving” the young girl says innocently turning to smile at the old Wolf that she knows and loves so well.
“Me too” he answers, a glimmer of sadness in his eyes “me too”.
She doesn’t worry for her own safety as she urges her mount forward, peddling faster and faster down the natural tree formed cathedral. Nothing can touch her as she runs free to worship her own religion. She has flowered to be the magical creature she always believed herself to be. Here the rules of mathematics do not apply. Here the real world isn’t allowed in and she can create her very own mythology.
From behind the trees the Wolf watches her with hungry eyes; the eyes of a hunter mentally devouring his prey. Her happiness tortures him with the razor-sharp knifing pain of longing. Her youth casts a twisted spell over him, creating desires that bubble under the surface of his skin. He can feel his fingers tingling with the urge to reach out and touch her light-soaked cheeks. Just one touch would alleviate his pain and distract him, if only for a moment, from the disease eating him from the inside out.
The Princess slows, exhilarated and breathless as she nears the end of the path. She prepares to turn back, to go back to her castle home. Dusk has started to leave her velvety fingerprints across the air.
Turning to her dog sitting panting by her side she exclaims “I’ll race you back”, leaping forward with laughter frothing in her throat.
Hurtling forward through the cooling and darkening air she sees the Wolf step out of the trees ahead. She slows as she approaches him, stopping barely an arm’s reach from him.
“We were racing” she explains slightly breathlessly
“I can see that” the Wolf answers “but now it’s time to go home.”
Smiling the Princess dismounts to walk beside the Wolf, pushing her bicycle as he turns in the direction of their home. Walking along, he reaches out his fingers to touch the smooth skin of her arm.
“I hope dinner is ready, I’m starving” the young girl says innocently turning to smile at the old Wolf that she knows and loves so well.
“Me too” he answers, a glimmer of sadness in his eyes “me too”.
3 comments:
Loved these lines "Here the rules of mathematics do not apply. Here the real world isn’t allowed in and she can create her very own mythology"
What a terrifying evocative story. Could be read on so many level.
What a heartbreaking story... like Brenda says it can be read in so many ways. Personally I read it as the Wolf hankering after this forbidden flesh which is made worse because he's known to her. I suppose on a very deep subconscious level it could be referencing paedophilia but as I say that's just how I read it!
Definitely evocative and I love the blurred vision of this fairytale. I especially adore the line, "Dusk has started to leave her velvety fingerprints across the air". It's just so ornate and textual, love, love, love it!
Brilliant lingering pathos at the end as well.
Kx.
But surely mathematics is the language of nature ?
Rest assured I am reading and am intrigued by what I have read so far.
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