So you're here, too?
I think it charming to say that metonomia and I often meet in the limbo of day/night -- quite late for her, and quite early for me. On one such occasion the other night, we read a short story by Eileen Chang, titled simply, Love. I was led there by one of Roger Ebert's tweets, which instructed his followers "Don't cry" upon reading it. Funnily enough, we didn't. Instead it sparked some very interesting discussion. It was a sweet story, but we were disappointed in the (lack of) resolution and the idealization of the single moment. It needed more weight to be significant, so the fabulous Meto suggested we season it up with some Lucian spice. It turned out to be harder than I thought! Mine came out kind of AU, and was inspired by the work of rthstewart and fire_and_a_rose .
There was once a girl of many stories and many names. She lived many lives, and journeyed on unknown paths and endless waters. In this journey she was taken for a slave, for she was very lovely, with shining golden hair. The King who desired her was righteous, but also young and foolish. He thoughtlessly sought her freedom by declaiming against slavery.
Afterwards there was a grand feast in her honor. The King who had freed her noticed that she was not among the celebrators, so he went outside seeking her. He found her sitting in a peach tree, where she was staring at the moon. "So you're here, too?" he said softly. But the girl who had lived many lives and knew many things did not answer, and after a while he went back inside.
Later in the night, the cruel men who had been her slavers crept into the castle and stole the girl again. They also slit the throat of the young King who had foolishly believed that words and laws alone could halt deeds, and never dreamed of treachery. The girl was sold as a concubine in some far-off town, and knew fear and hate and humiliation for all her days. When she journeyed on, she often thought of that brief moment of freedom, the moon, the peach tree, the young King, and wondered what might have been if she had answered him.
Among many days and many lives, across seas and stars, you may meet the glimmer of hope, the dream of love. But some things are not to be.
Yeah, so kind of depressing, but there you go. Check out metonomia's much more hopeful response over here.
There was once a girl of many stories and many names. She lived many lives, and journeyed on unknown paths and endless waters. In this journey she was taken for a slave, for she was very lovely, with shining golden hair. The King who desired her was righteous, but also young and foolish. He thoughtlessly sought her freedom by declaiming against slavery.
Afterwards there was a grand feast in her honor. The King who had freed her noticed that she was not among the celebrators, so he went outside seeking her. He found her sitting in a peach tree, where she was staring at the moon. "So you're here, too?" he said softly. But the girl who had lived many lives and knew many things did not answer, and after a while he went back inside.
Later in the night, the cruel men who had been her slavers crept into the castle and stole the girl again. They also slit the throat of the young King who had foolishly believed that words and laws alone could halt deeds, and never dreamed of treachery. The girl was sold as a concubine in some far-off town, and knew fear and hate and humiliation for all her days. When she journeyed on, she often thought of that brief moment of freedom, the moon, the peach tree, the young King, and wondered what might have been if she had answered him.
Among many days and many lives, across seas and stars, you may meet the glimmer of hope, the dream of love. But some things are not to be.
Yeah, so kind of depressing, but there you go. Check out metonomia's much more hopeful response over here.