Blue space explosion

BluMoon

United States

A high school writer looking to improve her writing and get feedback. A fan of fragments and commas,,,

Message to Readers

There is a plan to extend this piece, but that won't happen until I finish another big writing project I'm working on.

Broken Strings

March 4, 2016

FREE WRITING

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    “I’m going to disappoint you. But you knew that already.”  I said without looking up.

    “Just because I’m omnipotent doesn’t mean I’m omniscient.”

    “Does too…” I muttered.

    “I heard that, Fabia. Don’t ignore me.”

    “I’m a little busy, in case you hadn’t noticed.” I still didn’t look at him, giving my full attention to the loom in front of me.

    “I thought you’d be difficult, so I brought a little… persuasion.” I heard the slight sound of paper against fabric and assumed he’d pulled something out of his suit pocket. I didn’t lift a hand to take whatever it was, instead taking a thin blade and slicing a thin, dull, fraying thread out of the loom.

    I heard him sigh and place his ‘persuasion’ on the side table.

    “I can’t do it, Crow. I can’t alter the strings; only complete them. You can’t change the pattern halfway through the tapestry.” I spat out the words as I roughly tied off the severed thread.

    “I do it all the time.” For the first time, I stopped what I was doing and looked at him. His slicked-back hair, perfect black suit with a golden tie, and self-assured grin made me want to punch him in the face.

    “And who cleans up your messes, Crow? Hm?” I folded my arms and stared straight into his black eyes. “Who has to tie up all the loose ends and cut out all the broken strings? Do you have any idea the damage you do with your meddling?”

    “One thread. That’s all I’m asking- save one thread.” For all his perfect composure, he couldn’t hide the slight coloring of desperation in his face.

    “You think you can save a doomed thread?” I kept a firm lock on his eyes, refusing to blink. He stared steadily back and answered;

    “I can’t. But you can.”

    “Get used to disappointment.” I turned back to the loom and continued weaving.

    “Fabia, please-” I lifted one finger to silence him.

    “My answer is no.”

    “For now. When you’ve reconsidered, you know how to contact me.” He turned and walked out of the cave opening, melting into shadow.

    I stopped weaving and let out a pent-up breath of frustration. I stood and stretched, cracking each of my fingers individually. Striking a match, I lit the lamps hanging from the ceiling. The cave I called home was comfortable, at least; undisturbed by mortals and furnished with hand-woven rugs and tapestries. I was kept warm by my own clothes in the winter, and cool by the depth of the earth in summer. If I couldn’t feel the seasons resonate through the stone or see them in the loom, I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference here in my cave. For example, I knew it was a particularly bitter winter when the stones started shivering and too many young threads had to be cut alongside the old and thin. The loom took up an entire wall from floor to ceiling. The light from the lamps made the strings shimmer as the chaotic rainbow tapestry was woven. Half of it was unfinished. It would always remain unfinished until the End of Days. Long shadows cast from the lamplight danced over the cave walls as I paced back and forth in front of the loom.

    I wanted to shout, or maybe throw something. I couldn’t believe Crow’s nerve, coming into my cave and asking for a favor he knew was impossible. It was just common sense! You can’t mess with the loom- you can’t change the strings once they’re woven in place without cutting them out. One weak string put the rest of the tapestry in danger. Crow’s proposition could unravel centuries of work and endanger the entire world- all for one string. If I agreed to this, I would be responsible for all the damage that came after it.

    In the midst of my thoughts, something on the table snagged my eye. It was an envelope. Crow’s ‘persuasion’.

    My first thought was of Pandora’s box. Gods above, what a mess that had been to clean up- thousands of years later and the leftover taint still lingered in the loom.

    My second thought was that I should get rid of it. Burn it; throw it out; hide it in a piece of meat and feed it to one of the monsters that roamed the caves deep in the earth.

    My third thought was that I should open it. I should see exactly what Crow was so confident would change my mind. Then I could throw it away to make sure he could never use it as a bargaining chip or hang it over my head.

    No point in denying it; I was curious- a trait I thought I’d quashed a long time ago.

    I picked up the envelope and turned it over in my hands. It was a blank, official-looking envelope with no address and no stamp. Holding it up to the light, it appeared to contain only a piece of folded-up paper. I held it in my hands and reconsidered my options.

    I retrieved the thin blade from the loom and used it to cut open the envelope. I unfolded the crisp paper and read Crow’s scratchy handwriting.

        I know where your sisters' strings are.

    A piece of blue thread was taped to the paper, less than half the length of my smallest finger. I hadn’t seen a thread so deeply colored blue since I cut one out myself.

    My hands shook and my heartbeat pounded in my ears as I recalled unwinding two threads, one blue and one gold, from a dark crimson one. I remembered the cold blade in my hand as I severed them both. I remembered how my chest ached for decades later, weakened and lonely.

    At that moment, I knew I would do anything Crow asked of me. I would rend the tapestry to shreds if he demanded it. I would rewrite everything if it meant fixing my greatest mistake.

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