Sunday, February 6, 2011

For Trees Have No Tongues - (Muse 3)

First Muse Part 1
First Muse Part 2
Deep Sleep, Deep Space, Deep Shit
Reluctant Titans Part 1
Reluctant Titans Part 2
Fuck Origami

How poignant to pass beneath a weeping willow and its cool cascade of green. Secluded beneath the sighing curtain, Crossan's daughter is ill. Barely does their sojourn begin and her rasping cough gives way to spasms and fever.  She begs him to slow down and they rest on the riverbank beneath the embrace of the willow fronds, she is on the point of collapse. "Take it," she gasps and hands him a neatly folded paper package.

"Fuck the gold . . "  he says, thrusting the tiny parcel back into her palm and folding her frail fingers around it. "You're the precious one," he whispers, "Stay with me!"  She strokes his youthful countenance and stares deep into his eyes. "No, you have it. It's yours. You've brought me joy and friendship. You're my sweet companion, take it . . start a new life. There's no spending this trifle where I'm going." And once more presses the parcel into his hand.  This time he accepts and sits.  "There's more . . " she rasps "I have land in Windsor, the deeds are in the dilly . . ." Her words wash over his sad eyes as he can see she's dying. He doesn't want her land or her gold he wants her to survive. Tears well and he holds her in his arms and looks intently at her ashen face.  "Do you know what they do in Japan to ensure good fortune and good health?" The question seems so shallow given that she's mortally ill but he continues, "They make 1000 origami cranes all in a long string." She musters a wan smile and lets him continue, "Japanese legend promises that anyone who folds a thousand cranes will be granted a wish such as long life or recovery." He wishes he had the paper to fold ten thousand cranes but it's all too late. No wish will be granted as she slips away quietly beneath the verdant branches.

Now he sits, almost afraid to untie the string and press its gentle creases back. Folds she made with her own hands. He undoes the treasure chest with heavy heart. "Oh Maeve," he sighs, "I'll do you proud my girl."  He digs a shallow grave and lays her soft beneath the tree, the pain of covering her frailty sees salt and dust combine. He takes the wrapper from the nugget and folds a tiny crane and places it between her clasped hands. "Fare well my lovely angel . . my sweet and faithful friend."

He's a alone now, travelling light and heading south. His gold exchanged at the survey, he's cashed up and ready for adventure even if with a heavy heart.  He's had time to visit the barber and is now neatly trimmed and shorn, a new shirt on his back and polish on his shoes. Quite the sartorial city slicker as he waits for Cobb and Co, carpetbag at his feet and the moleskin under his arm. Night falls and the familiar triangular lights loom orb like in the distance, he sees them long before he hears the clatter of pacing hooves and the pall of dust behind the wagon.

Posted for Tenth Daughter of Memory, River of Mnemosyne Challenge

Continued at:i
Ein Plein Air Part 1


  1. What is it with you can killing people under trees? Or was that me? I forget. ;)

  2. Haha . . oh you started it, I'm just keeping the tradition alive.

  3. kill me under a tree. a pretty tree, please

  4. You had me at, "She strokes his youthful countenance" ;). Can anyone blame her? Seriously, I was hoping she's stay around.

    Love how you added pictures to these. Really nice touch.

  5. All of this dying and leaving someone to continue with the story is quite nice, like taking a fresh path each time. -J

  6. Hadn't thought of it like Harnett-Hargove said with someone to continue the story. Great way to connect all the parts.