Welcome back to another Wednesday Brief. This one is short and I hope you like it.The prompt is in bold.
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Who am I?
The slate colored clouds rolled in from the distant mountains where they had gathered throughout the day. Little by little they left their home in the valleys and peaks, leaving behind dark paths across which others would follow.
The sun, which up until that moment had touched upon the earth with its warm andn inviting glow slowly vanished. The gentle, white cotton candy globes suspended above it, rose higher, escaping the mass of grey that charged in.
It wasn’t long before water droplets raced to meet those below. Flowers and plants raised their green arms in a wild dance that fueled their lives. Ducks and other animals splashed about joyously, refreshing themselves in the coolness of the weeping sky.
Yet, the gentle spring rain was nothing more than a rouse. Beyond it, a dark mass stormed through.
The wind which at first had been little more than a gentle whisper, raised its voice. Louder and louder it cried among the leaves, quickly becoming howls of distress. It was coming.
The sprinkle of rain became violent as thick globs of water fell from the sky. Flowers and plants trembled, their bodies no longer thirsty, but frightened as they fought against the oncoming darkness. The animals ran for cover, their victory dance long forgotten by the fear that made their spines tingle. Light faded.
Thunder made the world tremble just as lightning flashed against the inky blackness. Nothing could be seen, except for her. A figure in the distance, naked, pale and white under the light of the storm, it walked slowly across the grass.
She was not afraid.
Her hair, normally golden, was dark by the water and plastered to her cheekbones. Water rolled across the bridge of her nose and tumbled over her full, rosy, lips. Drops clung to her dark lashes, making the blueness in her eyes stand out.
She walked with determination. Her body lithe. Her limbs strong. She was round in all the right places, attractive by most standards. Except, here and there, she bore marks. Scars. Wrinkles. Signs.
Thin red marks zigzagged across her hips, as if she’d once carried a child or had lost and gained weight repeatedly.
The veins on her hand stood out blue and green, translucent in the light of the raging storm. The pale flesh was flecked with marks of old age. There was nothing beautiful about the slender fingers with bony knuckles.
She stopped for a moment and cocked her head. Her lips spread into a smile. Lightning erupted above her head just as the wings attached to her back snapped open. She spread her arms and beat the appendages. The fury of the storm seemed to increase, the trees bending over with fear and the rain splattering on the ground with violent anger. She remained unmoved. Water slid across the delicate black feathers of her wings, as if they were precious lovers kissing each other farewell one last time.
Her lips parted.
“I know who I am, do you?”
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