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ctowen
Member Elite
since 2001-10-18
Posts 2286
Green Mountains of VT

0 posted 2003-06-22 04:07 AM


   I like to try new things, please tell me your honest opinions.
   This was written for a creative writing course on folklore, have to write our own Myth in 1000 words.
  
           Hope you like it.


Why Love Storms


   Each time a severe storm takes our village by the sea, the elders are heard telling their children of why such storms came to be. Always told in a calming voice, each word rolling from lips like the waves of an outgoing tide. For generations the story has never changed.

   There was a young maiden. Katrina was her name. She was gifted with the beauty of a blooming flower, the innocence of her first day born, and the wisdom of age-old prophets. The night before Katrina's birth, her mother was visited by a mysterious woman. Rumor had it that this woman wore tattered and torn cloth, fastened loosely about her giving her the impression of a poor and unfortunate soul. The woman said nothing but instead raised a single bony finger, crooked and wrinkled gray, at Katrina's mother's womb. Upon the finger it is said to have been a magnificent gold band that sparkled in the light like a thousand stars were shining. Katrina's mother, feeling the warmth from such light, was said to fall into a relaxed deep sleep only to be awakened by her newborn daughter's cries as the stars faded and the day began to break.

   As a child Katrina was taught the good life, respect, help others, and her mother's dream of marrying into a stable family. Katrina's father had disappeared sometime before her birth, a wanderer and a dreamer of sorts. Some believed that Katrina had the dreams of her father. She could always be caught daydreaming of true love and being whisked away in its arms. To Katrina, no noble name or countless gems could hold a light to unconditional love.

   Katrina learned that she could do something other children could not. She could hold her breath for long periods of time. As she grew older, grew more beautiful and more wiser, her ability to hold her breath even grew as well. Katrina tested herself whenever the chance was given, amazing even her self. Time grew and grew.

   One day a horseman came to Katrina's home. With him was a letter sealed with a gold ribbon. Katrina's mother grew red with excitement as she read the letter quietly to herself. Other such letters came, by horseman and by foot, sealed in variuos ribbons of reds, browns, and deepest blues. Each time her mother's face would go red with excitement as she would quietly read them by the fire in her chair, never saying a word about them.

   Katrina was practicing holding her breath under a shade tree on a day after such a letter had been delivered, daydreaming of what true love would be like. Suddenly she was startled, she stood straight up as her eyes flashed open. A dozen wildflowers fell to her feet. A young boy stood stunned before her, trying to catch his breath. The boy, Thadeus, had seen Katrina from a nearby knoll and was instantly taken by her beauty. He placed the flowers
upon her breathless body thinking she had passed from this life, never to chance knowing her. Thadeus had no idea she was very much alive. He found himself speechless, barely able to breathe. All he felt he could do was to kiss Katrina, incase he may never find his breath again. Thadeus kissed her ever so lightly on the lips to be sure she was really alive. With this one kiss, this one shared breath between them both, Katrina knew she had found her true love. She felt the tenderness and calm in Thadeus, his desires, his secrets, his heart. And Thadeus? He was very much taken by Katrina, her beauty, her softness, and her elegance. Katrina's very soul. Lights flashed around them as they kissed, a thousand lights like bright shining stars.

   Katrina left Thadeus standing at the shade tree, rushing home to tell her mother of what had happened. Katrina raced the familar path to the house, flung open the old wooden door and ran to her mother's side in her chair by the fire. Katrina rambled on about how her heart was beating and the boy's kiss before noticing her mother silently slumped in the chair. Her skin was icy cold, and her eyes surely closed. And on her mother's lap laid but another letter with a crimson ribbon lined with the color of the sea. This letter was opened and Katrina fought her tears for the loss of her mother as she took the letter in hand to read.

   As Katrina read the letter she grew hurt. Her mother had accepted her daughter's hand in marriage to someone Katrina had never met. Katrina's own flesh turned cold from the memories of how her mother turned red each time she received such a letter, all the time bartering for a dowry to fill her own needs. For gold and gems, nobility and good keeping, all the things Katrina did not believe were elements of true love. In the letter it read that a noble, a man of good standing was sending his son to pay the dowry and would take Katrina's hand .... he would arrive that day.

   In a flood of emotions Katrina could not catch her breath. Tears poured from the depths of her empty stares. What was she to do? Her mother gone, a man she knew she could never really love coming for her. And a moment she lived and dreamed for, a single kiss that changed the path of her heart so lovingly, a heart so genuine, full of life and love. Waiting for her return. What was she to do?

   Katrina rose from the floor, turned swiftly towards the door without another thought. Over the path she raced breathlessly before, which now seemed unfamilar to her, straight to the tree that bared love's fruit. Katrina circled the tree. Frightened in disbelief, the boy was gone. As Katrina slumped against the bulk of the tree, she saw a letter in between two low brances. It had no ribbon, slightly torn and poorly written. It read:

          To My Love -

               To this day I have wandered
               never truly finding myself
               that is, until I found you
               under this tree

               I was captured by your beauty,
               tortured by your lack of breath,
               and released by your lips

               You have taken my breath
               and in return given me life

               My heart is now yours ....
               only yours

               For this reason
               I must take the tide
               to my Father's home
               in hopes to persuade him
               not to force my hand
               to another

          
               I swear my breath to you


   For days Katrina waited for Love's return. Days circled hours, seasons swept by and Katrina's world began to change. Her beauty faded, slowly at first. Her attire grew torn and tattered to match her lonely heart, still no Thadeus. Wisdom lost all meaning and innocence was but a moment lost in the past. Then, one night, years later, an elderly woman in black pointed a bony finger towards the sea, and the stars darkened. With a releasing breath of the woman, clouds rolled and a strong wind grew as the night sky released shattering rains. The woman fell to one knee and lightening creased the sky. Her body slumped forward as the finger curled to her palm. The wind became ferocious, ravishing all of life of which it kissed. The words of the dying woman could be heard upon the rushing wind ....

               ... I swear my breath to you.
                       the end

© Copyright 2003 C. Thomas Owen - All Rights Reserved
Midnitesun
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647
Gaia
1 posted 2003-06-25 08:23 PM


Craig, I just discovered this one, and unfortunately I only have a few minutes before I have to leave for work. But I'll be coming back to this tomorrow, I promise. How cool! A creative writing course assignment that you are sharing with us!
Midnitesun
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Empyrean
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647
Gaia
2 posted 2003-06-28 11:44 AM


What a story! Poor Thadeus and Katrina!
I've always enjoyed Mythology tales. They often have a sad ending such as this, and a moral to the story we can't help but acknowledge. Star-crossed lovers, ill-fated romance...always a good theme for a tale.
You do have a few sentences that are 'rough' and could be tightened up a bit to make the flow smoother.
***tiny edits:
Each time a severe storm takes our village by the sea, the elders are heard telling their children of (how) such storms came to be. (The tale is) always told in a calming voice, each word rolling from lips like the waves of an outgoing tide. For generations the story has (not) changed.

   There was a young maiden(named) Katrina. She was gifted with the beauty of a blooming flower, the innocence of a newborn, and the wisdom of age-old prophets. The night before Katrina's birth, her mother was visited by a mysterious woman, wearing tattered and torn clothing fastened loosely about her thin limbs, giving her the impression of a poor and unfortunate soul. In silence, this woman raised a single bony finger, crooked and wrinkled gray, at Katrina's mother's womb. Upon her finger was a magnificent gold band that sparkled in the light like a thousand stars were shining. Katrina's mother, feeling the warmth from such light, fell into a deep sleep, only to be awakened by her newborn daughter's cries as the night stars faded at daybreak.

***
Craig, I think it will have greater impact if you tell the tale as if YOU were the elder speaking directly to the listener.

Enjoyed this, and have a few more ideas to come back to after a cup of java and a shower. My daughter has a horseback riding training session today, then we're going to the Denver Cherry Blossom festival to immerse ourselves in some traditional Japanese cultural activities (Sara is half Japanese) so it may take a day or so before I can get back to this write. I'd be interested to know how your professor responded (my nosey curiosity)

[This message has been edited by Midnitesun (06-28-2003 11:48 AM).]

RedOz
New Member
since 2003-06-29
Posts 4

3 posted 2003-06-29 05:52 AM


i love it! it's great!
but I agree with midnitesun about the writer needing a voice to tell the tale. goes with the whole history of how myths were carried on, makes it seem more of an event happening than a retelling of past events....
stars and a tick!
chan

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