From Imaginary Ripples · Stories

Ripples of a Darker Nature II: A Stitch

Sonya’s hands flowed rhythmically up and down, the white flowing dress seemingly coming into existence, into life, beneath her measured cadence. Had it been possible for an onlooker to follow the course of events, they would have watched the fabric of the dress weave itself into a pattern of sublime perfection. A pattern of utmost beauty destined for utmost horror.
The dress seemed to weave in synchronised harmony with the soft, angelic melody that subtly filled the glade within which Sonya sat. The soft touch of the damp grass beneath her bare, green-stained legs, the sweet fragrance of a gentle rain and the blissful aroma of fresh cut grass. The silent rustling of the leaves of the eucalypts that guarded the circular glade, the ever-present face of the silver moon bringing tranquillity and peace to the mother’s glade. Every sensation overwhelmed the absent onlooker, reason was impossible, all that existed was the ever-growing peace and calm.

Beneath the calm and the peace, conflicting emotions battled for control of the onlooker. Reason demanded they remember their purpose, remember their need, remember the desperate determination that brought them to this most impossibly dangerous place. Desire and emotion fought need and determination. Animal lust and primal instinct thought reason and knowledge. The sweet vanilla scent of Sonya, the unblemished skin of her bared thighs, her perfect nature, her perfect innocence consumed the primal onlooker. The preternatural attraction fought reason for all control. Ultimately, both lost to the overwhelming sense of calm, peace, and sedate tranquillity that suffused the very atmosphere of the glade.

The onlooker sat beneath a eucalypt and watched with rapt expression the sublimely rhythmic manifestations of Sonya and the white dress. In the subliminal peace the universe revolved through eternity in the space of a single heartbeat. Time lost meaning and the onlooker watched, oblivious to their failure to fulfil their desperate need.

One of the manifestations of Sonya stood gracefully and smiled sweetly to herself as she regarded the primal onlooker. She walked calmly and slowly out of the circle, past the onlooker’s tree. As she stepped beyond the onlooker, her hand barely trailed along his shoulder. He quivered and lent back against the tree, closing his eyes as his life left him. In the merest instant his body collapsed, the flesh taken by nature, the bones fell to dust and there was naught left to speak of the onlookers visit to the green glade.

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