Sandalwood and Vanilla (654 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: Fiction
Rating: 1.57 on 14 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by kaos-king (antius777) (View user info) at 2006-01-09 19:32:35 EST
Her dark eyes swept across the landscape, drinking in the dryness of the shallow valley. It was early still, the sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains to the east and the moon still fought it's way to stay visible in the western sky. The night was slowly being replaced by day, the bats making their way for buzzards, a bitter cold for the scorching heat.
She moved down the trail, her bare feet softly rubbing against the fragile dirt. It had not rained in this particular valley in months upon months, and a small cloud of dust leaped up behind her in wake. A slight breeze came through the gorge, blowing it out behind her like a bride's gossamer wedding train. She did not notice.
Nor did she notice the almost silent sounds of droplets hitting the barren earth beneath her swaying hands. Had a god been listening to this valley at this moment, it may have heard these crimson splashes being sucked up by the dirt, it's thirst forever unquenchable. Indeed, as soon as these drops came in contact with the ground, the red meeting the brown, they vanished. Absorbed by a hunger you and I could never fully understand.
White. Her dress was mostly white, except where stained with the blood that dripped down her arms. A white that looked even more pure set off against her skin, that which was pale and near flawless. All of this purity of color, then the crimson, which of course appeared black in this light. And there was her hair, just as black, just as long and as streaming as the rivulets of blood that ran down the length of her arms.
She moved further into the valley.
The sides rose up to her left, to her right, the path growing more narrow. The width of two cars, maybe three. Less of a valley, and more of a crack in the world. A scar on the face of the planet. A jagged reminder to Mother Nature of misdeeds and miscommunication.
Silence. All you heard was the soft echo of her feet stepping gently on the dirt. Not the sounds of predators howling at the ever retreating moonlight. Not the insects buzzing away at the remains of things once living. Definitely not the sound of any human presence, the ignorant brutal grunts and thumps that they made while clamoring about. No, you heard none of these things.
And then she heard a sigh from behind.
She closed her eyes and smiled. There behind her eyelids, in her own darkness, she let the sent of him come to meet her. He smelled of sandalwood and vanilla. He had the aroma of something hidden underneath that. The sound of children laughing, of whispered secrets, of fading rainbows. Yes, he managed to smell of all those things.
"You have come early," he said.
"I couldn't wait any longer," she replied, opening her eyes.
"Please, turn and let me see you."
She slowly spun herself around, her feet first, then her torso, last her head. Finally she brought her eyes to meet his. He was as pale as her, but clean shaven on both face and head. He wore black slacks and a black dress coat, which was unbuttoned to show he wore no shirt beneath. Barefoot as she, he made no move to come near her.
He clicked his tongue. "Such beauty and yet such a terrible vision at the same time."
She smiled again, and wiped her hands across the front of her dress, soaking it with blood, it's thin fabric quickly clinging to her delicate body. She looked back up to him to show the wounds on her arms were already healed.
"I wish there were another way," he said.
Feeling bold, she began walking up to him. "So do I, but there is not, and besides," she said, now standing directly before him, "I am tired."
He bend down and kissed her, his hands trembling as they ran down her shoulders.
"It has been too long," he said pulling away.
She smiled yet again.
"What did you call yourself this time?" he asked.
"I was Nicolette."
"So I shall be 'Nicholas' this time?" he said, finally smiling himself.
"If you wish."
He turned and began to walk up out of the valley, the crack, the scar. His bare feet shuffled slightly more than her's had, his size more massive, yet he was still graceful. Still no sound, still no sound. He glanced back, the light of the new day banishing shadows even in this place.
"I'll return soon, my love," he said.
Nicolette just closed her eyed and remembered the scent of sandalwood and vanilla.
User Reviews
Submitted by crx (user info) at 2006-01-13 18:55:16 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Love the initial imagery...
but like all your pieces, there could be more plot/development.
*cough* go back to your Edward Sands stuff *uncough*
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2006-01-10 14:00:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-01-09 21:16:37 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2006-01-09 20:33:25 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2006-01-09 19:38:19 (#)
Ranking: 2
Thank the Uber gods you're back.
-----------
Yay!
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2006-01-10 12:10:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
hmm..... interesting. Is this your view of reincarnation?
your imagery is still good.
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2006-01-10 07:34:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice to read some of your work again. Did you write this a while ago or did you find the time to write something in between creating the zombie boardgame?
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2006-01-09 23:05:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Where the hell have *you* been?
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2006-01-09 21:59:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-01-09 21:16:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2006-01-09 20:33:25 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2006-01-09 19:38:19 (#)
Ranking: 2
Thank the Uber gods you're back.
-----------
Yay!
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-01-09 21:04:38 EST (#)
Ranking: -1
Is this the script to one of those HORRIBLE "Scent Stories" commercials that they aitr on Lifetime?
Submitted by Ferretnose (user info) at 2006-01-09 21:03:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2006-01-09 20:33:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2006-01-09 19:38:19 (#)
Ranking: 2
Thank the Uber gods you're back.
Submitted by Lisa (user info) at 2006-01-09 20:05:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
How old are you? I want to give my honest opinion even though it's patronizing. I thought while reading that if you are in high school, you could ultimately be a really great writer. But if you've been out of school for a while, maybe not.
Submitted by Barnymeinhoff (user info) at 2006-01-09 20:01:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Solid, reminded me of Jerry Cornellius for some reason.
Submitted by ripple (user info) at 2006-01-09 19:44:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
sorry, i thought this was too contrived. you also switched from being an omniscient narrorator to including yourself and the audience in the story, which annoyed me.
Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2006-01-09 19:38:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Thank the Uber gods you're back.