Slowly, I crumpled the letter in my hand. "Dear Love," it said, "Meet me when the Night Jasmine blooms under the watchful eyes of Aphrodite. There I will make myself known to you on June 19th."
In Aphrodite's presence stood a man drowning in disappointment as the rain washed over him. Clasping the knife in his hand more tightly, he stabbed it into the heart of an old oak tree. He wondered why his newest love had stayed away. He wondered if he was truly the man who could offer her salvation from the putrid world.
*** Daily Writing Practice ***
This seems that more needs to be written. There is a back story and a continuation that is screaming to be written here.
ReplyDeleteSadly, or perhaps happily, it did not scream loud enough to pull at my writing muscles.
ReplyDelete