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tamingthemuseTitle: Girl Among Graves
Author: Guardian Erin
Rating: G
Summary: Inspired by this photo on Flickr.
The moon had crept high overhead. It seemed like only an hour ago, when Yanna wished her grandmother goodnight and blew out the last candle in her room, the moon had just risen. She had tried to go to sleep in her bed - - really, she did. It was easy to sleep in the pitch black, alone in the woods, with the sounds of night crickets and owls to keep the air gently thrumming. Maybe that was strange to some people, but it was what she was used to.
Warm nights were expected, which was why Yanna always slept in a thin night gown to keep herself cool. Tonight, however, the air seemed heavy and made her clothes cling to her in the most uncomfortable ways. She couldn't sleep for the longest time, constantly turning over and over again to find some sort of relief, but only finding damp sheets from her own sweat.
Finally, Yanna sat up and realized that she was no longer in the dark. The clouds in the sky had vanished, and the moon was stretched up high in the lonely blackness that arced overhead. It was not a full moon, but the light was as radiant as it could be, regardless. Yanna found no reason for hesitation when she slipped out of bed, except to take care not to wake up her grandmother.
The wooden planks of the house were quiet under her feet, but she was highly aware of the ones that would creak loudly if she placed any weight on them. She took care to tip-toe, slowly and gracefully, until she reached the front door. On this night, they had only shut the screen door to keep out the insects that would chew them to death. There was nothing Yanna could do to help diminish the creak of the spring on the door, except to open it as quickly as possible - - she had found that opening it slowly only drew out the creak, but one big motion only produced a smaller noise, if any. She then let it shut about as fast, but held onto the handle so it could not slam. The spring creaked softly, then, as she let the door go back into place. Yanna lifted her hands as if she had just finished a house of cards, and crept away slowly. Then ran.
The grass was soft and damp under her bare feet. The moon light was sufficient enough that she didn't need to carry a torch. Fortunately so, because she didn't have one and hadn't planned on bringing one. Yanna felt light on her feet, inspired to flit and dance around as she went. There were no neighbors except for the many quiet residents that were laid to an eternal rest just south of her home. They had beautiful markers, and Yanna knew most of them by heart, especially the very old ones. In her childhood she frequently visited them and adorned their ancient head stones with wildflowers and ribbons. Now as she moved down aisles of the graves, Yanna fancied that she herself might be mistaken for a spirit.
That would just be absurd. Yanna laughed to herself, a light, windy thing, and then vanished into the air.
Author: Guardian Erin
Rating: G
Summary: Inspired by this photo on Flickr.
The moon had crept high overhead. It seemed like only an hour ago, when Yanna wished her grandmother goodnight and blew out the last candle in her room, the moon had just risen. She had tried to go to sleep in her bed - - really, she did. It was easy to sleep in the pitch black, alone in the woods, with the sounds of night crickets and owls to keep the air gently thrumming. Maybe that was strange to some people, but it was what she was used to.
Warm nights were expected, which was why Yanna always slept in a thin night gown to keep herself cool. Tonight, however, the air seemed heavy and made her clothes cling to her in the most uncomfortable ways. She couldn't sleep for the longest time, constantly turning over and over again to find some sort of relief, but only finding damp sheets from her own sweat.
Finally, Yanna sat up and realized that she was no longer in the dark. The clouds in the sky had vanished, and the moon was stretched up high in the lonely blackness that arced overhead. It was not a full moon, but the light was as radiant as it could be, regardless. Yanna found no reason for hesitation when she slipped out of bed, except to take care not to wake up her grandmother.
The wooden planks of the house were quiet under her feet, but she was highly aware of the ones that would creak loudly if she placed any weight on them. She took care to tip-toe, slowly and gracefully, until she reached the front door. On this night, they had only shut the screen door to keep out the insects that would chew them to death. There was nothing Yanna could do to help diminish the creak of the spring on the door, except to open it as quickly as possible - - she had found that opening it slowly only drew out the creak, but one big motion only produced a smaller noise, if any. She then let it shut about as fast, but held onto the handle so it could not slam. The spring creaked softly, then, as she let the door go back into place. Yanna lifted her hands as if she had just finished a house of cards, and crept away slowly. Then ran.
The grass was soft and damp under her bare feet. The moon light was sufficient enough that she didn't need to carry a torch. Fortunately so, because she didn't have one and hadn't planned on bringing one. Yanna felt light on her feet, inspired to flit and dance around as she went. There were no neighbors except for the many quiet residents that were laid to an eternal rest just south of her home. They had beautiful markers, and Yanna knew most of them by heart, especially the very old ones. In her childhood she frequently visited them and adorned their ancient head stones with wildflowers and ribbons. Now as she moved down aisles of the graves, Yanna fancied that she herself might be mistaken for a spirit.
That would just be absurd. Yanna laughed to herself, a light, windy thing, and then vanished into the air.
