The greaser eyed the still white maiden of the vineyards with
        contempt.  His hatred deepened even as she grew yet more pale
        before his eyes.  He had come under her spell once, long ago.
        His memory reached back to the pain.  Sure she's beautiful,
        he thought, but so what?  I wish to see her beauty framed by
        a coffin.


                                ---------


        The bird landed on the twig, but lightly, so that it did not
        break.  In the lake I could see the perfect reflection of the
        sky.  Spring shot in like a bullet, galvanizing the flowers
        of the fields and orchards into the fullness of bloom and
        scent.  I peered out of my tent and saw her standing there,
        meeting my gaze.  Then she was gone, my eyesight dimmed, I
        grew blind.  All that was left was the memory of her image.

5 responses total.

I really like this. Perhaps because it is somewhat of a reality check in my
opinion...The first part we see the person's thoughts and how he feels about
the subject. The thoughts are written, 'as were' if you will...
In the second part, we see both subjects yet again, only this time, imagery
is used to describe the scene. This is the way feelings sometimes tend to be...
Sharp and instantaneous without thinking....

I like the part where spring shoots in like a bullet, galvanizing
the flowers and orchards.

        My opinion probably matters little, but you should expand upon this,
it has the makings of an interesting story.

I agree with you, slandis. It would make an intersting story. But it is also
good the way it is...

        True, but it will have more meaning if it is expanded upon.
        (I just hope you are not agreeing with the first part !:).)

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