A Fragile Short Story by Matthew William Elsbernd

Tearing my eyes away from the intricate wiring holding my shield above me, I looked out ahead. My path still apparent to me, but now more mud would lie in my path. My legs without the help of my impromptu cane, were feeling the wear of age, and so my already slow progress, became ridiculous.

The flash signified his arrival, and the immediate roar of thunder let it be known to all. As if showing their fear, the wind picked up speed, and the sheets of rain grew thicker. With each drop, my legs were being pounded into the ground, and with every gust of wind, my forward progress seemed to be nullified.

From my left came a soft, pleasing sound. So quiet and delicate, yet I could hear it say over the pounding rain, and roaring wind, "Hello! Welcome back."

The voice being familiar, I turned. Standing beside me stood a striking woman. Draped in a dress of powder white, a summer deal, blowing gently, as if the fierce wind turned into a purring breeze around her. Her feet, in white slippers, in virgin condition, as if the mud turned into a royal red carpet under her step.

Bringing my weary eyes up to her face, I was not disappointed, because the beauty was total. She had shoulder length hair, blowing behind her. Her eyes burned with a blue, a sharp blue, that burned through my chest, and brought steam to rise from my heart. Her skin clean and natural, a peaceful canvas, for that only touch of color, those eyes.

I awkwardly cleared my throat, and in an ancient, raspy voice said, "You grow prettier with each time, young girl."

In her angelic tone she whispered, "Why have you been away so long? It has been so lonely without you to play with."

"It has been a long journey child, it is no longer easy for me. I'm afraid I'm not much of one to play anymore, I'm sorry!" I said, the age of my voice coming out with every word.

"Come, I wish to show you something." she said as she ran on ahead, beckoning me to follow.

"But child, I cannot run anymore!" I cried, but she had run too far ahead to hear.
Last PageCopyright 1990 Revised January 1997Next Page