Irena's Tale - Part 2
Disclaimers may be viewed in the previous posts or accessed here: Disclaimers.
Sharp tingles ran through her, building until they blocked all thought. After an eternity they began to fade and as they did she saw an outdoor landscape instead of her bedroom. Ahead of her was a steep rock slope, to her right a sea of cloud floated beyond the edge of a sharp cliff. To her left a peak sprang up from behind a small stone hut. Thick, luxurious mossy plants, warmed by the late sun, cushioned her bare feet. The air was warm and scented lightly with pine and something unrecognizable. Only a faint, warm wind broke the stillness of the place, sighing through the small trees, bushes, and stone.
For a moment, she was at peace, then a slow panic welled up. She spun, trying to find how she had arrived, and how she would get back. The cloud sea surrounded her, empty, with no sign of her room. A small weight bumped her right hip when she stopped. Hanging from her belt was the small green book from her room. She grabbed it, flipped it open and stared at the tiny picture of where she stood. She almost missed the small fold on the lower right edge of the page. She pulled at it the instant it registered. On the next page was a small image of her bedroom.
She thrust her hand against the picture and waited. After what seemed like a very long time the tingles built and faded again, depositing her back in her room, standing at the foot of her bed. The clock radio showed she had been gone four minutes.
She dropped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling for long moments. Her right hand stroked the small book at her side, stopping only when she noticed the motion. Opening the book again, she stared at the picture, debating what to do next.
She stood, crossed to the phone, and played her sister's message again. When the numbers went by she grabbed a pen and tried to write them in the green book. The pen slid across the page, leaving no mark. Playing the message again, she wrote them on a scrap of paper and stuffed it into her pocket, then flipped the green book open and hesitated. She closed the book, darted back into her bedroom and grabbed the digital camera from the bottom of her desk and dropped it into a pocket. It wouldn't take great pictures and it hadn't seen any use since the last time she had tried to sell something online, but it would help her remember what she was seeing.
Feeling slightly more ready this time, she opened the book and touched the cloud island image.
Sharp tingles ran through her, building until they blocked all thought. After an eternity they began to fade and as they did she saw an outdoor landscape instead of her bedroom. Ahead of her was a steep rock slope, to her right a sea of cloud floated beyond the edge of a sharp cliff. To her left a peak sprang up from behind a small stone hut. Thick, luxurious mossy plants, warmed by the late sun, cushioned her bare feet. The air was warm and scented lightly with pine and something unrecognizable. Only a faint, warm wind broke the stillness of the place, sighing through the small trees, bushes, and stone.
For a moment, she was at peace, then a slow panic welled up. She spun, trying to find how she had arrived, and how she would get back. The cloud sea surrounded her, empty, with no sign of her room. A small weight bumped her right hip when she stopped. Hanging from her belt was the small green book from her room. She grabbed it, flipped it open and stared at the tiny picture of where she stood. She almost missed the small fold on the lower right edge of the page. She pulled at it the instant it registered. On the next page was a small image of her bedroom.
She thrust her hand against the picture and waited. After what seemed like a very long time the tingles built and faded again, depositing her back in her room, standing at the foot of her bed. The clock radio showed she had been gone four minutes.
She dropped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling for long moments. Her right hand stroked the small book at her side, stopping only when she noticed the motion. Opening the book again, she stared at the picture, debating what to do next.
She stood, crossed to the phone, and played her sister's message again. When the numbers went by she grabbed a pen and tried to write them in the green book. The pen slid across the page, leaving no mark. Playing the message again, she wrote them on a scrap of paper and stuffed it into her pocket, then flipped the green book open and hesitated. She closed the book, darted back into her bedroom and grabbed the digital camera from the bottom of her desk and dropped it into a pocket. It wouldn't take great pictures and it hadn't seen any use since the last time she had tried to sell something online, but it would help her remember what she was seeing.
Feeling slightly more ready this time, she opened the book and touched the cloud island image.
posted by Absynthe Grrl at 8:31 PM
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