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| Literature Please come visit. People get upset, write poetry about it, and post it here. Sometimes we also talk about books. |
09-24-2006, 07:29 PM
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#1
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Join Date: Sep 2006
Posts: 23
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the crying angel
The Crying Angel
Eve sits on a decrepit, wrought iron bench in an aging cemetery in downtown Philadelphia. Pompous, ancient trees loom above her and her friend Maxx like the skeletons of life that emerge with the ending of autumn. Dry, dead leaves swirl about their feet in the wispy breeze of the chilly October afternoon. Pigeons peck at the shells of sunflower seeds that Eve has discarded. Despite the day's chilliness, the sun shines brightly down from heaven. Eve turns her face towards it to catch some of its warmth. Somewhere in the distance, church bells resonate with the passing of the day…
They have spent the morning wandering through the graveyard, admiring the decaying monuments that honor the dead. Names of the city's founding fathers, eternally etched in stone around them, will haunt their thoughts for days to come. They are seated to the right of a rather lifelike, elaborately carved statue of a mourning angel. The angel's head is laid on top of a tombstone and her arms dangle lifeless over its edges. Her wings droop with the sadness that only an eternity of loneliness can provoke. Weathering of the years has dulled the creases of her gown. Even the stone she is composed of seems to sag under an invisible weight.
"Do angels cry?" wonders Eve out loud in her lonely, dreamy, staring-off voice.
Maxx doesn't answer, but merely grins at yet another of Eve's childish observations. Over the years, he has heard her ask answerless questions about every subject, all the wile when she thought nobody was listening.
Her hair is getting grayer, he thinks to himself, I wonder if that is my fault.
He rests his hand on her shoulder, gently squeezes as if to show her that he is near, and moves to position himself between Eve and the statue. There are times when the adage "out of sight-out of mind" comes into play with Eve; maybe he can make this moment one of them.
A chill runs through Eve's body. She shudders, hard enough to shake herself back from the edge of nowhere that she had been staring into. She reaches up to her right shoulder and hugs herself, swearing she had just felt someone touch her. Turning around to make sure she is alone, she carelessly knocks the last of the sunflower seeds onto the ground at her feet. The pigeons swirl, fight and dive-bomb, screeching at each other in competition for the day's special treat.
"I knew you were here…I knew you were with me…" she whispers to empty air, "Please come back and sit with me…I miss you so much…"
Maxx's throat tightens as he hears the desperation in her voice.
She can't see me! She has never been able to see me before…how can she feel my touch?
He slowly rises and walks around in front of Eve, gently turning her face to his as he kneels before her. Her crying eyes and heaving chest cease as his touch warms her skin. She is looking right through him, but Maxx knows that she can feel his caress. The sunflower seeds under his feet would normally be crunching under the mass of a man of his height, but Maxx became weightless the day he passed and rose to reside in Heaven. Tears well and pour from his own eyes as he stares lovingly into the face of his own earthly angel.
If only she could see me…
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09-24-2006, 07:54 PM
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#2
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Join Date: Aug 2006
Location: the concrete and steel beehive of Southern California
Posts: 7,449
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Wow, that was beautiful.
You let the reader assume that Maxx is her living companion, which makes a great tug on the reader when you pull the rug out from under us and reveal he is an angel.
I love your description of the cemetery angel monument too, how time has worn the edges, as if it is weighed down by an invisible burden. Many other parts were well written too.
The only constructive criticism I would offer is to run it through a spell checker first before posting, because the misspellings can interrupt the dream flow of the story.
But it is a lovely cemetery story. I look forward to reading more from you.
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09-24-2006, 08:08 PM
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#3
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Join Date: Jul 2006
Location: Georgia
Posts: 797
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HEY!!
My name is Maxx....It's even spelled like that on my birth-certificate.
__________________
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord to tell everyone about that time at Ronnie's house when I smashed the beer bottle over my own head.
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09-25-2006, 04:05 AM
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#4
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Join Date: Aug 2006
Location: the concrete and steel beehive of Southern California
Posts: 7,449
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Quote:
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Originally Posted by cradle
HEY!!
My name is Maxx....It's even spelled like that on my birth-certificate.
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So all your posts
are ghosts?...
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09-25-2006, 06:01 PM
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#5
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Join Date: Jul 2006
Location: Georgia
Posts: 797
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Yes... XD ...
__________________
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord to tell everyone about that time at Ronnie's house when I smashed the beer bottle over my own head.
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09-27-2006, 06:36 PM
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#6
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Join Date: Sep 2006
Posts: 23
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thanks for the kind words...
there is not place in my writing classes for this work. nobody there seems to understand passion and death intertwine and not necessarily in a decaying, bloody kind of way...
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09-27-2006, 07:02 PM
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#7
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Join Date: Sep 2006
Location: Canada
Posts: 22
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That was chillingly beautiful. Awesome piece.
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09-28-2006, 09:33 PM
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#8
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Join Date: Sep 2006
Posts: 23
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i often wish i could take myself back to the moment of inspiration for that piece...
it seems to come so infrequently--and i think being out of touch with my dark side is to blame...i can't remember the last time i went to a goth club and closed my eyes and just danced...
....nostalgia junkie shooting up with dead can dance and beborn beton...
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09-29-2006, 04:33 AM
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#9
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Join Date: Aug 2006
Location: the concrete and steel beehive of Southern California
Posts: 7,449
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Just wander through your friendly neighborhood cemetery. That's where I get my inspiration. 
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09-29-2006, 05:49 PM
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#10
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Join Date: Sep 2006
Posts: 23
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i used to do that....i would sit and paint there for hours...then i went during the day once and noticed syringes and the other crap lying around the grounds...kind of turned my stomach a bit...
maybe i should find a new one...
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09-29-2006, 05:51 PM
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#11
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Join Date: Sep 2006
Posts: 23
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Quote:
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Originally Posted by cradle
HEY!!
My name is Maxx....It's even spelled like that on my birth-certificate.
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such good fortune with your name! how cool were your 'rents to name you that? my friend maxx is actually philip. philip butt to be exact...
i guess he picked a good name to change to!
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11-07-2006, 01:47 PM
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#12
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Join Date: Jul 2006
Location: The Icy Forest of New England
Posts: 2,535
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Wow, I loved your piece. I just read this today, wow.
__________________
"Tigers love pepper, they hate cinnamon."
-Zach Galifianakis
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