Steph: "I would like you to write a short continuation of Stockton's story, not necessarily in Stockton's style, feel free to make it your own, of course. Perhaps reveal what happened when he opened the door, and where you think the story would go from there."
...
As is often the case with love, the heart can crowd the lines and tables of order that the mind places on the real affairs of life. Young lovers, caught up in the fire of their mutual passion often cast aside reason and pursue the flames of their desire, even though it may be obvious that this path leads to burning, and pain.
The Princess was in every way her father's daughter; equal measures of his barbaric charisma and also the semified expression of this, as well. As with all younger generations, she took more to the nature of the place, being born here, than her parents did.
So in her we have both powerful whim, and reason. Her passion in many ways unbounded, tempered by forethought. Shrewd enough to discover the answer to the doors' riddle, sly enough to gesture a choice.
As the depth of their love grew, she without question saw pain on the distant horizon. Being her father's daughter, she knew well that their love would never be allowed to bear fruit beyond the moment. Each interval of time they spent together was a gift, and with the passing days that gift grew more expensive; not a shade of doubt in her mind that at some point, the price would have to be paid.
Part of her would rage against this inevitability she saw; her father's fiery and barbaric nature broiling inside of her. Fury adding to the passion already stoked by forbiddance and taboo. No love burns as hotly as that which, by circumstance, clearly cannot survive. Reason may not be sufficient enough a mentor to dictate a lesson in avoidance.
But it can provide a plan for what part of the drama they could control; how it would end.
They could not help their love, though they knew it was destined to end in pain. They could not turn off the road once they'd started upon it. They knew every rendezvous was a gift from fate, and that in time fate would come calling. They could however control what would happen after that fateful moment.
The deliberately passionate people of the this kingdom knew risk and danger intimately; they understood from a very early age the definition of consequence. Today in softer times we rationalize our actions and seek to avoid the results, surprising or not. We turn blind eyes to our choices, and the pain they often lead to.
But the princess and her lover were not of this time. They entertained no illusions of living happily ever after.
...
She gestured to the right.
He looked to her and stepped right, according to their pact.
The most powerful calm he'd ever felt washed over him when he realized the fierce sound of the tiger was silence, next to the roar of his passion for her.
The crowd on their feet and agape as the man walked into the onslaught of sinew and fury, hands up and out as his sides as if to proclaim he had power over this choice, that it had been his to make, on purpose.
The splash of blood, the swiftness of the tiger's strike surprised no one but perhaps the king himself, as he watched.
The princess watched, too. She owed that and more to the lover she would see again, in time. She owned the pain.
...
This is the only possible outcome. She could not deceive him, her love. He could not love another after having known the heart of a princess.
Destiny had a place for lovers such as these; the price paid here and now solidifying that futurity. She would take a lover and continue the line of her father, her torment over time at least equal to his last moments.
True love is about rising beyond the boundaries of circumstance; about knowing the terrible price, and paying it, gladly. It
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Pete,
Poetry? Awful.
Okay, not really.
I applaud how adventurous it was of you to attempt to duplicate Stockton's style. I certainly did not bother with that feat.
Likewise, you supplied depth and motivation to the princess that went beyond, "I can't let any one have him." Her feelings, as well as those of her lover, meshed well and expanded upon Stockton's story.
It will be interesting to see if the rest of us pick the tiger.
Damn you and your keen understanding of human emotion!
*shakes fist*
Really, though. Outside of like, one or two questionable word choices ('though' instead of 'that', that sort of thing), this was -- as usual -- flawless. It's always a pleasure to read what you've written. I wish I could be more critical of it, but you pack so much emotion and -- dare I say it -- intellect into so few words, I'm kind of at a loss.
You put real depth behind archtypes, and examined their character in an insightful way and showed well what consequences would be brought about by possessing such characteristics. Good story and good ending. I held back reading others until I was pretty much done with my own entry -- I was afraid other's would influence me too much, and if I had read yours, I'm sure I would have gone with the tiger too.
Post a Comment