Story on a Sunday

Traditions are wonderful creations.
Sent forth by gods, manifested by their mortal patrons.

I decided that if this blog is every going to be well, a blog, I need a tradition. I mentioned that I liked to stalk blogs and one that I enjoy perusing from time to time is Merry Sisters of Fate. It is manned by three writers who are published and who write beautifully. So, if you're looking for free, well-written fiction to read, check it out, leave a comment.

Well anyways, I thought I'd do something like what they're doing here. I usually don't write short stories anymore but every Sunday I will churn out something that is inspired by a picture that I see. And if you want, you can join in too! The more the merrier.

This prompt is focused on Natasha, the main character of one of WIPs Under the Jeweled Sky

He doesn't have a heart.

I knew this before I stood before the Fates, and gave him my hand. I knew this when I first looked into his dark, perilous eyes.

The leaves, once vibrant reds and oranges and yellows are frosted over with snow. An ivory light from the moon shines down on the forest, blanketing the earth in diamonds. It is a beautiful night, and yet, I don't want it to be.

The day I married a heartless man should be filled with rain and gray clouds and thunder that rips through the sky like a herd of stampeding cattle. It should be hell, not blissful and beautiful, like heaven.

I pull the curtains close, and sink to the ground. The moonlight is enough to light a thousand galaxies, but I feel like I am drowning in darkness. I feel like it's gnawing at my bones, devouring every inch of my being.

A tear slides down my cheek.

I feel like I am gone. My body is still here on this earth, but I am gone. I am dead. I am destined to be an occupant of a place so empty, so cold.

Roman is my Fate. His heart is my prison.

Something soft and warm kisses my arm. Two emerald orbs stare at me, somehow understanding my anguish. I pulled Szeja close and let her murmur lullabies in my ear.

Her voice was the last sound I heard before I drifted off to sleep.