The Riff Raff

   ”He loves me,” she plucked a petal from the daffodil and it flittered gracefully through the air.

   A subtle breeze picked it up and carried it through the grain fields who’s stalks waved gently like the rolling seas. The sun drifted lazily down over the horizon to make it’s bed among the distant pastures.

   ”He loves me not,” with a tug, the last petal danced in the wind. 

   She cringed as she watched it go.

   She dropped the stalk to the dirt beneath him. A single tear welled in her eye.

   ”It’s okay,” he said from her side with a reassuring smile, “Here’s another. You should try again.”

   He pressed another daffodil into her fingers and stepped closer to wipe away the tear.

   ”I promise one of these will tell you the truth,” he said as his fingers cupped her cheek.

   ”How do you know that though?” she choked out.

   ”Because I know that I love you, it just seems the flowers haven’t quite learnt that yet.”

   The blazing sun overhead bombarded the clear rolling waters, sending diamonds of light in every direction. The sea stretched out around him in every direction, like a plane of crystals. The heavy heat was mellowed by a light breeze, which carried the mist of the water in its gentle wake. The seagulls called in melodic succession as the bells tied to the lines tinkled softly.

   The ship had already gone to work. Hardy men lined with hard worked muscles and tanned skin worked the ropes of the large clipper as they glided through the water. The men hauled crates, and luggage, and sacks, and boxes while the captain shouted orders. Women lounged about in groups on the aft of the vessel, chatting away as they feasted on exotic fruits from the latest port.

   He stretched from the doorway of the cabin, taking in the pleasantness of the scene. He spotted her lying out on a pile of freshly woven lines towards the bow, basking in the sun. She flashed him a brilliant smile as he strolled down the small deck and settled in to lie beside her.

   ”Good morning,” She said in a singsong voice, as she arched her back. “It’s gorgeous out here.”

  “Yes, you are,” He replied, never taking his eyes off of her.

   She laughed, her eyes sparkling.

   ”So what would you like to do today?” He inquired as he yawned deeply.

   ”We could go mess with the first mate, maybe see if we can get someone thrown overboard,” she suggested in a mischievous 

tone.

   ”We did that yesterday. Besides, I’d rather just mess with you,” he commented, smiling slyly.

   She belted out a short burst of laughter and turned her head to his ear.

   ”I love you,” she whispered. She leaned over and pecked his cheek as she crossed an arm over his chest. She sank into him with a sound of satisfaction.

   ”I love you too,” he whispered in return. 

   He wrapped an arm around her, and the world around them faded away.

juiceboxchaos asked: I love you. Just gonna leave this here now.

I love you too. Leave it everywhere.

   He stood in the doorway and looked upon his friend.

   She had aged slowly these past few years, staying as beautiful as she had always been. Her skin glowed softly in the morning sun. Her chestnut hair framed her slender face in a cascade of messy hair. And as they had been for the past four years, her eyes were closed.

   The hospital bed she lay in was standard. There were the usual counters and medical equipment, a single broad window, two chairs for visitors, and a single wilted rose in a vase.

   The man stepped quietly into the room and replaced the rose with a fresh one. Then he turned to her.

   ”I’m sorry I couldn’t make it yesterday, love,” he whispered.

   He kneeled at her bedside.

   He sniffed quietly, choking on his words. “I miss you.”

   The man fought his tears as they fell from his face to her sheets.

   She remained quiet and stonily still.

   ”I miss you,” he repeated, louder. “I miss your voice and I miss your stupid cheesy jokes. I miss hugging and kissing you and holding you in my arms as we slept. I can’t remember the last time I heard you tell me you loved me, but miss that too.”

   He brushed his arm across his face to clear his eyes. He looked up to her face again.

   ”I miss looking into your eyes.”

   He placed his hand over hers, and didn’t move, wondering what it would be like for her hand to come to life and grasp his again.

   He took a moment to compose himself and stood again.

   ”I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

   He set a note  beside the rose with the pile of hundreds of others he had written her over the years.

   He turned back, bent over, kissed her gingerly on the cheek, and left.

By Gerthew

From triumph’s reign will Heroes fall. Lies revealed. Promises broken. Their Children take stand.

Poised neath virgin flags We stand. Weapons raised. Banner lifted. The Legions cry out. From these Ashes shall we rise.

An old Cherokee man stooped down beside a downed doe to pull an arrow from her flesh. With a quick yank it came free. He pressed the arrow into his son’s hand and clasped a hand to his back.

“It was a true shot son, you’ve done well.”

The boy nodded and grinned, proud of his accomplishment. In the distance a wolf howled. His father shifted his gaze to the forest around them. 

The wind sent leaves of autumn scattering about the clearing they stood together in. The moon overhead cast silver light upon them.

“Son,” He began, “there’s a battle of two packs of wolfs raging in every one of us. The first is full of evil beasts whose mouths foam with lust and greed, lies and hate. The second are tame wolves, who hunt with pride and dignity and bring joy and peace to the forests around them. Their battles can be brutally violent and leave scars upon our hearts. Their deaths come at great costs to us.”

After a moment the boy spoke, “Which pack will win?”

The old man turned his eyes to meet his son’s, “The one you feed. Choose wisely, for you are the prey over which they battle.”

By Gerthew

The boy sat on the edge of the porch and dawdled in the dirt with a stick. His grandfather sat behind him in his creaky rocking chair.

“Grandpa, how can you stand living here? It’s so boring!” the child exclaimed.

The old man gave a hardy laugh and a great smile, “Son there’s nothing boring at all about this place at all! Look around! This place is a world of it’s own and it’s inviting you to come and see what it holds for you.”

The boy turned to face him, “What do you mean? It’s just a bunch of trees and dirt!”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong,” The old man stood and offered him his hand, “This is magical world kid, let’s go exploring.”

By Gerthew

She reached out timidly into the open air, and with a gasp she drew a hand back and shrieked as she spotted a scaled beast flitting amongst the clouds.

“What is that?” She demanded, backing away from the ledge. The burly older gentleman standing not far off let out a bark of laughter.

“That my dear, is adventure!” He said with a toothy grin.

“Well make it go away!”

“Oh come now dear! How do you expect to become a great hero if you can’t even face a little old dragon?”

He placed his hand on her back and looked her in the eye. “Now look here. Even the greatest of heroes have to face their fears. That time is going to come for you some day. When it does you need to be able to believe in yourself, and take that leap.”

Her lip quivered in fear. She bit down on it.

“I don’t think I can,” she whispered.

“Nonsense! That’s why I’m here!” He said.

Without prompt or warning, he gave her a mighty shove and sent her over the edge.

By Gerthew

“Do you ever wonder if the person in the puddle is real, and you’re just a reflection of him? That maybe you could fall through to where he is?”

He stooped down and reached a hand out towards the water. At his touch it rippled and the image on the other side faded away.

“Sometimes I can’t help but hope that my hand will touch his, instead of cold water. I wonder if he could pull me through and show me a world full of laughter and joy.”

With a heavy sigh he stood up and turned away.

“But then I think that he’d probably be wondering the same thing.”

By Gerthew