Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Samantha Lee Week 52: Out in the Open

WEEK 52! We made it a whole year of Daily Picspirations!! Thank you to all the contributing authors that have made this possible, both current and past. Here's to another year of Daily Picspirations!!


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Samantha Lee’s Picture Choice: 2

Title: Out in the Open

I was not meant for forests; I am a city boy, through and through, and I made my peace with this a long time ago. I prefer prowling the night clubs, running the roof tops, and blending with the crowds to trees, dirt, and wildlife. Fortunately, I fell in love with a woman who, in her own words, thinks cities are "where humanity thrives, where all its vibrancy and potential and wildness is brought to bear in a thrilling explosion of darkness and light; what's not to love about that?" Unfortunately, though she loves cities, Savannah possesses the sort of wild, free nature requiring frequent trips to forests and jungles all over the world. I asked once how she could stand them both with such uninhibited joy. She laughed and told me, "Darkness and light come together in thrilling explosions in a variety of forms, Tru, not all of them at the whim of humanity."

Of all the females in all the world in all the years, I had to fall for the Fae.

This is how my luck is.

Today's trip, however, is not for Savannah's pleasure. We stand on a wide trail that cuts through the heart of a dense evergreen forest. A thick carpet of browned pine needles coats the ground while a veil of white clouds shields the sky, allowing only a faint glow of sunlight to seep through. Savannah is pacing back and forth, careful to keep herself close to me in spite of the frenetic energy keeping her in motion. I lean against the rough trunk of an ancient pine tree and try not to think of the sap no doubt sticking to the back of my jacket.

"It could be worse, you know," Savannah says, "Delilah could have requested a meeting in a mine or a cave or underground or...you get the idea. At least this is open."

"Open is not always a good thing, lumina mea," I point out and try not to scowl as I think of all the potential threats lurking in the forest's shadows.

Savannah smiles over her shoulder, her eyes, as pale and cloudy as the sky above us, sparkled with mischief. "Don't fret so much, Tru; you'll give yourself worry lines and mar that pretty face of yours."

"This is not funny, lumina mea," I tell her, glaring. "This place is unfamiliar to us, its potential dangers unknown. We must be vigilant, be cautious, especially with Delilah herself being such an unknown."

Savannah grins and comes close, wrapping her arms around my neck and drawing herself close to gently rub her cheek against mine. "You worry too much, Tru. Whatever danger there is in the dark is not going to come into the light, come out into the open."

"I do not like it here, lumina mea. The pine scent is thick and masks too much, robbing us of yet another sense. We should go and - what is that phrase? - reschedule with Delilah."

"Delilah is the last of her kind, Tru, and the Hunters are keen to have her hide. Right now, she's out there somewhere, all alone and frightened, while the baying hounds are at her heels. Can you really just abandon her?"

I do not even need to think and I do not hesitate. "I would doom the world and all its life if that is what it took to keep you safe, lumina mea. They mean nothing to me and you are everything."

Savannah chuckles and presses her lips to mine in a quick kiss. In the next instant she has pulled away and twirls, her arms spread wide like a bird's open wings. "I love you too, Tru, but some things, like Delilah, are worth a little risk. Besides, with you here to protect me, what do I have t-"

The pain flares bright and hot. It radiates from my stomach and blazes up my spine like an inferno chasing oxygen and I cannot contain my gasp.

Before I can inhale, before I can catch the breath I need to scream, the vanishes as swiftly as it arrived. I blink, trying to clear my blurred vision, and slowly raise my hand from my side to assess the damage. There is none, however; my hand is clean, my side whole. Confused, I raise my head and look to Savannah for answers.

And that is when I learn the pain I felt I was not my own, but hers.

I hate the fucking woods.


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You can read my blog - Calliope's Domain - over at calliopedomain.blogspot.ca


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