The LakeA Story by CyaliOriginally this was a short story based on my poem The Lake, but now it's twice as long because I used it for an english assignment. This is based off of my happy place in my mind.I walk along in the twilight with no true destination in mind, traveling wherever my feet take me. The night is so clean, so pure; so new. It's a rebirth of the day; a second chance for every opportunity not taken, or path not traveled. I can easily lose myself in this night; a raven-black and seemingly endless abyss. The moon, a solitary glowing orb amongst the darkest hues of the sky, casts its soft, yellow-tinged light across the lake I had come to love so much. As the charcoal clouds move through the sky, I begin to see millions of tiny pinpricks in the heavens, my view unhindered by city lights and smog. As I turn my gaze down to the crystalline water, I see the light skipping along small ripples in the otherwise undisturbed water.
My favorite spot lay on the opposite side; a small semicircle alcove of weeping willows bordering the lake. I close my eyes, and there I can see those majestic trees swaying above me in the wind as I, in my mind's eye, repose in my little haven. I can hear the soft rustling of the leaves as they brush together; that is truly the best sound in the world. A wonderfully pleasant smell drifts through the air -- the smell of nature; the clean water and unpolluted air, combined with the soft scent of the rose bushes scattered around the shoreline. A slight breeze blows and the gentle, steady croak of frogs and chirping of crickets join the chorus of the weeping willows. Sinking deeper into this sublime hallucination, I become oblivious to my movements. I wander, in my divine dream-state that eclipses reality, closer and closer to this lake that had always forsaken all of my pain, anger, and sorrows with its absolute serenity.
Sometime later, I slowly awake to the shrill call of the blackbird heralding the morning. Rising to my feet, I see the first sharp rays of the sun, turning the once starry nighttime sky to crimson. I can hear the rapture of the twilight chorus being replaced by the piercing songs of other morning birds. Looking around me, I can see the dead brown leaves marring my beautiful willow trees; I can see patches of dirt in the verdant grass, and layers of algae just under the surface of my beloved lake. I run away, back to the trash-littered dirt path to take me away from this place. Halfway up the path, I stop and look back on my lake for what I believe is the last time, but to my surprise the distance has erased all imperfections, restoring it to its nighttime splendor. I admire the incredible, unnatural beauty of the once again still waters of the lake, and in an instant I realized that nothing could keep from my place, the lake. © 2008 CyaliAuthor's Note
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5 Reviews Added on October 1, 2008 AuthorCyaliILAboutMy vampire story is going to be a total scrap and re-do. Twilight kind of killed vampires for me... On top of that, going back and reading it years later made me realize how poorly it was developed an.. more..Writing
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