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Βία; Φυσικά
Σεξ; Όχι που δε θα είχε
Αριθμός Λέξεων: 610
Αυτοτελής; Ναι
Σχόλια: Δείτε το quote για την αρχική έμπνευση. Αν και Naer Mataron άκουγα όσο έγραφα... Thanks to Dain for his valuable assistance.
Quote
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
And I kissed her goodbye, said, "All beauty must die"
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
. Nick Cave and the bad seeds - Where wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
And I kissed her goodbye, said, "All beauty must die"
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
. Nick Cave and the bad seeds - Where wild roses grow
The creek was narrow but calm. It ran tranquil tearing the hillocks with its snake-like body. Its cool water sprayed as it hit the rocks surrounding it. Its bed, visible through the clear water, was strewn with pebbles.
The couple was standing by it. They were hugging.
"It is beautiful here," she said. She was ecstatic.
"Yeah, nice place you brought me to," he replied, the admiration clear in his voice.
Around them was sprawled a blanket of blood red roses. They were like her, he thought, wild and delicate, calm and passionate, blood red and innocence united.
"I really love it here," she said, "the roses, they are so beautiful."
"There is a song about a guy, a girl and a bank full of wild roses," he joked, "but you will not like it's ending."
"Really," she asked him, her voice betraying her interest, "why is that?"
"Because…" he paused, collecting his thoughts. Telling her "the girl dies" was not the ideal pick up line for their second date. "because it is a rock song I guess," he told her instead.
"Maybe I should listen to it."
"Another time maybe, singing it would ruin the mood." He knew how to dodge an unpleasant conversation.
She sat by the river, amidst the bed of flowers, throwing pebbles at the bed of the river. He was still standing, taking in the view. He was a city boy and this little trip to the country was uplifting to say the least. It helped his mind wander away from all the troubles his carrier offered him, and they were far from few.
"Do you like them?" she asked him, gazing at the flowers.
"I do," he said, "they are so like you, so lively and beautiful."
"You know how to flatter a girl, don't you," she told him, her cheeks as red as the flowers. She stood, breathtaking as always, her expression lust veiled as innocence. She drove him crazy.
He went by her, grabbed her hands, kissed the tips of her fingers gently. "I love you," he confessed. She kissed him.
They lay among the flowers, half-naked and panting. "It was great," he told her, his breath on her hair.
"Yes," she purred.
His arms were around her shoulders, her legs tied around him. "Their colour matches our passion, doesn't it," he remarked.
"Do you know what they say?" she asked him, "a red rose only grows were a dead body lies. It takes the colour of the blood shed."
It was a Japanese legend about cherry trees. But he was not going to argue with a wonderful woman right after sex, not about such trivial a matter.
"It was worth the sacrifice, such beauty, don't you think," she continued.
"I guess so," he answered, while dismissing the absurdity of her saying. A person to die for some flowers to bloom, it was plain stupid to say such thing.
"I'm glad you do," she told him and kissed him hard on the lips. "You understand the price of beauty, my love," she cried out.
He fell back, surprised by her reaction. Was she right in the head? He was not so sure about it.
"I think it is time to leave," he told her, "dusk is falling." He got up and started putting on his clothes. She stood beside him, half-naked, a rock held tight in her fist.
"For all this beauty you must die," she mused and planted her solid seed of death on his skull again and again.
The roses lay unmoving, sprayed blood red by the latest offering to their unparalleled beauty. It was where blood red roses bloom, where death and beauty unite.
This post has been edited by Nihilio: 22 December 2005 - 03:37
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