Feb 22, 2012

Letter of the Lost

Write On Wednesdays,

Communication that always seems to release the deepest revelations,
through the seriousness of ink.

The palms shifted restlessly in the cool breeze as the early sun rose, illuminating the sky with warm pastel hues.  I hadn't noticed the night pass from the raised veranda where my stunned body had sought refuge; where I still sat huddled against a wooden deckchair.  The letter rested between my fingertips, those damning words spooking my thoughts into such chaos that they seemed to overflow.  The urge to discard the folded papers twisted my will, telling me to dispel the ink that was tainting my mind.  The aching injustice that another person could put such things into writing, someone who had meant so much, and leave me here with those thoughts.  After so many hours trying to contain it all, I felt the horrible grief finally rise like an eruption, tearing through my chest with fearful sobs.

Frustration shook me from my immobile state commanding my body to move as I stomped across the weathered floor, remembering too late the glass I had expressed my wrath upon last night.  Unseeable shards and a sticky substance assaulted my feet where it had burst against the wall sending shrapnel down in its place.  It only incited my determination further.  I began to strip my hut of anything useful or necessary, stuffing clothing and tools into a backpack.  He was not going to disappear like that.  I would find him, track him to the edges of the amazon if that is what it would take.  Roughly wiping away the sleep and tears from my eyes I re-read the lines describing the research he had been undertaking; where he had been working and the location of the main camp.

...lost contact with his team due to serious conditions...
...deemed unsafe to search until further notice...
...sincerest apologies...

Hearing the engine of the jeep outside I lept through the door and down the steps, tossing my bag into the back seat before settling into the passengers side and asking to be taken to the air strip.  Lucas just sat where he had been about to turn off the ignition, running confused eyes over my dishevelled appearance and the letter I still clutched tightly in my hand.

"Where could you possibly need to go this early and looking like that?" The amusement was evident in his voice until I handed him the crumpled papers, watching the laughter in his eyes subside as they flowed across the words.  "I'm coming with you," he announced halfway through.  "Get yourself into the shower while I pack and make arrangements.  We'll leave at midday."

"Lucas-" I began, feeling the strain and exhaustion gathering like a weight in my body.

"You are not going alone," he declared craddling my face in his warm hands.  "Serena, we will find your father."  The reality of that letter now stared intently at me from those blue eyes, causing my defence of taking action to collapse leaving me tired and griefstricken.  I allowed myself to be carried to bed, watching the palms dance outside my window and dozing to the sounds of his movements, the letter settled beside me.

Jaq xx

Feb 12, 2012

Tomb Stone

Five Sentence Fiction:

The ancient stone lay in wait, carved centuries ago with the images of forgotten gods and unknown rituals.  Preserved within this tomb of dust and stale air it had remained hidden from those who seek to uncover the mysteries of other civilisations.  Here it had been safe from those who would want to excavate it and reveal to the world this new evidence of past mythology.  When the people were respected among their own, midnight sacrifices were made to the earth, and it was the age of blood and darkness and survival and life.  Here it had mourned the passing of its era and escaped the teachings of the modern world.

adventure awaits...
Jaq xx

Feb 4, 2012


Some ideas in rhythym for gentle contemplation,

To bed with all these thoughts and visions,
of tiresome life long delays,
of serving for the hope of peace
and doubting your own missions.

Jaq xx
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