DivineA Story by AnonymousA dream.
“What is the matter?” said the boy.
“I’ve no answer,” I replied. With his raven hair against a white cheek, the phantom breathed with no mist to follow; I feared that my heart, with a beat so eager, would burst from my breast. “Have you been wronged?” said he, with a voice like the wind. “As have us all,” I stated tartly. I had begun to involuntarily grasp the hem of my frock with my slicked palms. “What of it, aside from that?” “Your heart,” the ghostly boy breathed, outstretching a hand to me, “it has been tested. Can you not see the toll that it has taken?” “Enough with your vagueness,” demanded I, “why do you come to me under these unfamiliar skies? What are you?” The white boy’s eyes were as a harvest moon, orange, and with character as such portrayed. Beside his feet were withered roses, graying and shriveled with petals resembling the skin of age. The smell of death was upon them; the stench of mortality; human flesh. The ghost’s eyes gleamed as he locked an amber gaze with mine. “To err is human;” said he, “to forgive, divine.” And with a flick of the wind’s tail and a gust of wailing snow, the white boy had returned to the sky, leaving my anticipation full to bursting. I parted my lips and inhaled the crisp frozen air, clutching at my heart. “I forgive.” © 2011 AnonymousReviews
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Added on March 25, 2011Last Updated on March 26, 2011 AuthorRelated WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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