Summary: 155 Words…Post EP for Nothing Important Happened Today.
Love Lies Hid
By Shelba B.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Borrowed. Given back.
Post EP. Nothing Important Happened Today.
Archive: IWTB, Gossamer. Anyone else, just drop me a note.
Feedback: Cherished, honored, replied to and given a home on my HD.
The honeysuckle is red on the rock;
The willow floats over the brook like a feather: ††††
In every shadow some love lies hid.
by Mary Eleanor Wilkins
Late Spring, 2002
Night flees as dawn wakes the forest. Life stirs, sleepy and as eternal as the Redwoods. In the near distance, the Rockies reach for heaven.
Two years before, demons who’d flogged him with memories of Samantha had vanished here in starlight and hope. He’d escaped his own demons and returned, nurturing his own hope.
Mulder lay, breathless from calling out his love in his dreams. Was that why he’d awoken, his skin feeling prickly, as though thunderstorms raged?
Barefooted, he padded to the doorway, absently scratching his bare abdomen, then grasping a seed bucket, stepped outside, smiling at the avian cacophony of hungry birds chasing squirrel thieves
from their breakfast.
Nearby, a stream murmured morning greetings to the greening woods, and drifting honeysuckle sweetness evoked thoughts of Scully.
Muscles, taut as anchor rope, uncoiled. Whatever woke him had disappeared.
From two thousand miles away, love raced toward him at the speed of light. His phone’s insistent beeping broke the still morning.
“Mulder? It’s me.”
Poetry excerpt from:
Now Is the Cherry in Blossom By Mary Eleanor Wilkins
Thank you to Cyndi (Pbear) for looking this over and to Char for pointing out some oops. I’m afraid I can never leave well enough alone, so any errors are not the fault of these ladies.
Accept my apologies if Redwoods don’t smell like Pine, and if honeysuckles aren’t found wild where they grow. ‘Cause, you know, they should be.