Time Within Time

From an image born

Hello. I thought you might be my Pearl. I am surprised  that you see me, no one else does. No, do not be afraid. I beg you, I am no one to harm you. Please set, enjoy the view. My name? Hester. A ghost? I suppose I am. I have been sleeping for many years here above the township of Boston. Strange how time is nothing when you are a ghost sleeping. It seems to stand still, blend and just meld into one long day. You would like to know my story? If you have the time I will tell of it.

Long ago, though it seems only yesterday, as I said time seems to stand still. Yet things are so different when I look down at the harbor and see lights that never go out. I hear sounds I have not heard before so I know time has not stood still . When I was living I fell in love with a man that I did not and shall not name for fear of ruining his good name among the townspeople, all good Puritans they. I tried to resist the temptation but love has a mind of it's own . We fell in love. Out of this love I bore a child. A daughter. I named her Pearl as a rare jewel she was. Because I would not name the father and will not  I was forced to stand upon the towns scaffold holding my Pearl against my bosom. I was ridiculed, called many horrible names  that I shall not say as we are ladies . The final punishment for my sins against God and man is a letter. Such a beautiful color the letter was. It is still here , do you see it? Time has faded the letter I am sure yet it is still there. I can feel it there. It stays with me and is a part of me.

The letter? A- the letter A for adulteress. Emblazoned upon my bosom for all to see. Such a color this A. Scarlett as red as the hottest fires of hell. Blazing. It is embroidered with golden thread.

Were it not for the shame and stigma it carries it would be lovely to look upon. But there was and is the shame. I did not say that when I fell in love with the man I shall not name I was a married woman. My husband was to come, I did not wait.

The people forced my Pearl and I to live far from the township. We lived in a rickety cottage in the woods beyond Boston. We stayed to ourselves yet there were times when we had to go into the town. Those times were so hard to bear. As for me I could withstand the pointed fingers and names but my Pearl , an innocent was subjected to the pointing and name calling .. she paid for my sins and indiscretions . My sweet Pearl who once asked me when she would get the letter on her bodice. The poor child thought it was a sign of womanhood. I wonder where she could be? She always came.. The year is what? Two-thousand-ten? How can this be? If I have been sleeping for over three-hundred years, my Pearl sleeps too. My poor Pearl. I wonder where she sleeps? I wonder if I have grandchildren? No, please stay. I will tell you the rest of my story.

Pearl grew into a fine woman, a lady. Though she had no friends or beaus she seemed happy to share her days with only me. When Pearl was eighteen I became ill. She nursed me like a mother. She became my mother. Without medicines and doctors I fell to this illness and have been sleeping since. Pearl begged the townsmen and Pastor to let me be buried beside my parents in the town cemetery. They refused telling her I would not be allowed to taint the ground  of those many good men and women .

This is where they told her to bring me .. here atop this hill overlooking the Boston Harbor. She placed me inside the tower kissed me and closed the door. I could hear her. She said, 'Dear mother the sun never shone upon you. Here it shines bright and will shine down upon you each day'. She planted flowers. This did not set well with the townspeople.They said I deserved no beauty.  They ordered them removed and placed a fence around my tower. Pearl stopped coming. I didn't bother to wake.

I see you are looking at the two flowers outside the fence. They are beautiful. These flowers have survived all this time that has passed. The people did not see them as they were only seedlings when they pulled the others from the earth. She planted one for me and one for her. No red, she said only gold ... Gold like the sunshine shining down upon us at this moment. Gold like the love of a mother and a daughter.  Those are the last words I heard her speak.

You are leaving? Why are you crying? Please, don't shed any tears. I sleep well. The letter and the sins I committed  against man and God they are forgiven. No tears for me.
I am Hester Prynne and I sleep peacefully. I do wish I knew where my Pearl sleeps.
A mother worries. Please come back another time.
Goodbye.

Author's Note

Of course this is written from my imagination based on one of my favorite books.. The Scarlett Letter .. when i first looked at the image that book, story sprang into my mind .. gold flowers, not red, a tower.. a fence .. i waited to see if i felt anything else , didn't so i wrote this story of sorts. You will hear only one voice but I am sure you can imagine the other voice and questions and reactions ..Sorry it is longer than a poem .. also it isn't that good .. it is just what i was feeling

Reviews

[Truly Ross-Wisehart]

This is absolutely wonderful. I must agree with Dev in that I am glad that you kept the conversation one-sided. It gave the feeling that Hester was speaking directly to me.

The story itself has a haunting (pardon the pun) sadness. A woman harshly judged and made to pay for it all her life. The sad fact is that there were likely many more who had done as she had. They just had not been caught! Yet, I am sure, they pointed their fingers right along with the rest of the town. Sad.

I liked this very much. I am glad you shared it given your thoughts about it not being 'that good'. It is good, Ms. Chloe. Very good.

~True

[Gomer LePoet]

The sun shines brightly oh this piece and on you my friend. It is your TIME.

[Tony Russo]

This was written very well. I like the pace and the flow of the writing. I also like the tone, as you can detect the mother in her and the worrying but the peace despite the regret. The regret isn't seeded in what she did because she got such a beautiful gift from her sin.

I also like how you were able to keep it short without any loose ends

[Wolfwind Words]

This was fantastic Chloe! I loved the emotions that came across. You woven your own essense with the picture and created a masterpiece of feeling and story. I think that being able to understand the tragedy of the piece made it powerful and large on the heart.

Great Ink!
Hugs!
Wolfie

[See_What_Unfolds]

I love the interaction between Hester and the reader. It is both happy and sad in a way. I especially like how Hester, despite her problems, made the best of what whe had and is content with herself and the way she lived. I hope to read more of your writing soon

[Desert Dreamer]

Your story is very well written and very good...I feel as if I am standing near her grave and she is speaking to me. You do a great justice to this book. I think with this story you can encourage many people to read "The Scarlet Letter". People are capable of doing such terrible things.

[Gandré]

oh Chloe, this was just wonderful! We desperately need tales! They keep our imagination alive. Amazing how you can be inspired by an image. I actually never do that, I write a poem and then I was looking for a picture which goes with the poem, when posting here. This is also a great help how to manage mourning, when we lose somebody by death, the sorrowful process includes shock, denial, guilt, anger, depression, resignation, acceptance and finally hope.. I liked this a lot!! 100 points

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

Well I never saw the movie but found your story riviting... personally I think this could be turned into a fine artsy film that would be Oscar nominated... I think you need to do more storytelling, you are very entertaining.

[Elizabeth]

This was good... I love that book, and so this was a special treat.

[Devons]

I thought this was a very sad, moving and tender short story, and written with sympathetic gentleness. I find the paranormal to be a very fascinating subject, and ghost stories almost always capture my imagination. The decision you made not to show a two-sided conversation was a good one; the voice of the ghost then appears as though it is speaking somehow to the world.. or maybe even to deaf ears... Which adds to the poignancy of her fate.
The only thing I think that I don't quite like is the epilogue at the end where we are shown the person to whom the tale is told. I think that takes the sting out of it a little. The mystery is better let alone.
A very well-told story and quite affecting.

PS. I have a copy of The Scarlet Letter... I really must get round to reading it...!!