Harrowing the Soul

Em tries to comfort Trev.

Trev tensed, involuntary as shallow breath. Em combed her fingers through his short hair, her thumb harrowing the shar pei furrow above his brow.

"Talk to me baby." She worked rows as a farmer before the coming rain. (Squishing one flat and two more sprung forth like weeds.)

"Nothing to say."

Em started to speak; silence slow as china falling between hand and floor.

Trev turned his back, throwing his feet to the floor as rocks over a cliff. Em nestled to his warm back, her arms draped like vines over his shoulders, her head heavy as stone beside his. She kissed his ear, suckling his lobe as her fingers intertwined on his chest as if he were in danger of falling.

"Baby, I don't know what you're feeling." Her arms drew tighter. "But I tell you this mister pampus got my tongue. I'm here now and I will hold you till the twelfth of never. You see this?"

Em held her brooch in front of Trev's silent face.

"I was strong then and I am strong now and if I have to carry us both, by Janus, I will."

As if the throb of her heart were a hammer upon his back, tenderizing pain not seen, a tremble rolled from his diaphragm as a wave, spilling forth in tears harbored too long. His body went limp and Em pulled him back into the bed, his head in her chest, her hands on his head.


Camera zooms out. Screen fades to black. Tracy Chapman's All That You Have is Your Soul plays. As the credits roll and the audience walks out, Chapman's Baby Can I Hold You plays.

Reviews

[AutumnStorm]

Outstanding metaphors. Not to be misunderstood, for outstanding metaphor is your forte, one among dozens, but within this chapter, spaced as it is through much of it, they are noticeable in a way that is slightly different, an enforced pause coming thereafter rather than the one that happens of it's own accord, which of course given the loveliness of these would have happened anyway. Shar pei and farming and vines and rocks, so rich in imagery, direct could never hope to be as explanatory as your gloriously vivid and inspired metaphors. All of the above is a tongue-tied attempt to express the great sense of wow at the cleverness. The heaviness is palpable, the feeling of being entrapped, of sinking, the movement that really is not that, very powerful, incredibly well-written, clutches the heart with the same intensity of his need to escape and hers to not let him, to help, to connect, to be open, all the way, if only for a moment. How tragic it would have been had it ended any other way. How utterly beautiful it is to watch, as her heart tenderizes his, as the two fall back, as the tears flow upon her chest. So lovely it's taken a long time to write this short review, so lovely, so touching, it's not going to get any better. :-D