She was a stiff dark mass.
Breathing, existing. Not quite content, but in a quiet place. Watching the world whizz past herself, peacefully.
Yet, this lull was not to last.
In the neighbourhood was the centre of the earth. She gave off a luminescence. Her eyes shone with fierce vitality.
The stone, curious at first sight and utterly helpless about it, was pulled closer. The flame singed her hair. As the fire-core’s heat grew on the stone, she became enchanted. And then she changed into something else. So close to intense heat, the stone mellowed and was molten.
And she revelled in her new state of firehood, in its deep embraces and magnetic kisses. The nights spent in the womb of Hades, the days passed in magma glory.
But Earth can be with Fire for only so long. A keen fear clutched at her heart every time fire-core forgot to touch her, or kiss her goodnight. And then it happened, as was written in the stars.
When the land moved and the mountain shook that night, she was thrown around in a tumultuous rage and with a sudden jerk, spat out.
Out of the warm ardour of the deep underground that was fire-core’s embrace into the stark bright desolation. What used to be solid unrelenting stone is now thick meandering lava. She does not know how to be fire. She is alone in the cold bright world. She is scared. She is helpless. When she was with fire-core, she was home.
She wants to go back home, but fire-core is not calling out her name. For a while, not knowing what to do, she will stay put, dazed. But staying is not in her nature anymore. She doesn’t know if she has a nature anymore.
So she moves.
Gingerly at first, afraid she will miss the turn that takes her back home. Slowly, grieving, she weeps and flows. After an epoch elapses in this dribbling misery, she starts to feel as though that turn doesn’t exist.
This serpentine melancholy is ceaseless.
The thought of never seeing fire-core again fills her forlorn heart with a silent rage. Thickening despair brewing with bitterness spewed questions in her still ablaze veins.
What had she done to be treated this way, when all she had done was love?
Why was fire-core not calling her name?
Does fire-core not love her back? But she had said she did!
FIRE-CORE!
Being unwanted is the loneliest feeling earth-lava had ever had. Anger and helplessness coursing through her heat, she will surge ahead, on a rampage, burning everything in her path. She will want to rush headlong into anything big enough to hold her down that will tell of a way out of this mindless pain.
Chances are, there won’t be a thing to rush into, and ‘ere long she will get tired of being so strong and hopeful, enthusiastic even, for nothing.
She will give up this heady movement and gradually solidify again. As she sheds her last hot tears, she thinks that maybe there will be layers and sedimentation from the time she used to flow.
Nothing will remain, though, of the time when she lived with her only lover, and thought it would never end. Perhaps except her smoothness, which will serve as a reminder of the time when it got burnt and got her form changed from Earth to Fire.
To Earth.
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140,292 Literary Works • 673,076 Reviews
Hi there! Che here, for a quick review
This piece was really beautiful. The imagery you used was so strong and poignant, a mixture of somewhat erotic/lustful fire and anger. At least that is what I got from reading it. You personified it really well, and I can tell you took such care over your words.
My only slight criticism would be that so much description can get a little tiring. Sometimes, even in a very short descriptive piece, it could help to add in some action and feelings etc. that aren't beautifully laboured sentences full of imagery. It can just help create an overall picture of where this is set/who is being written about.
Though I love this sentence, it is a little long. I would suggest maybe splitting it up or adding in a comma.
Thenk you for stopping by. Your inputs make sense to me. Tone down the imagery and make it flow by action and feelings in shorter sentences is my takeaway.
Cheers, will keep writing.
Hey ZaffranGrey!
My name is Elinor. and I thought I would drop by to welcome you to YWS and to give you a quick review. I enjoyed this piece, and how experimental it was, even if it took me a few readthroughs to get what you were going for. Just a friendly tip though, I wonder if you meant to put this in "Art", as usually that category is where people put visual art on the site.
If I could give you one comment, it would be clarity. I think the idea of this piece is strong enough, but I'd like to see you perhaps personify the (it's a volcano, right?). You already do to an extent, by giving her feminine pronouns and describing how she feels about the constant change. Since humans rarely get close to volcanos, what does she make of that? The Pixar short Lava, while different from what you're trying to do, is a great example of this. Beyond that, are there little clues that hundreds of years are passing for the humans? Their lives come and go but she remains the same? What's relationship like to the earth? How does she feel when she inevitably damages it?
I think this a solid start, but maybe consider these questions when you revise and I think you could have something special on your hands. Hope this helps! Feel free to reach out if you have any questions.
Keep writing!
Cheers,
Elinor
Thanks Elinor. I can always use more clarity in my writing I feel.
My idea here was to take human experiences of attraction, longing, grieving and take them away from humanity. So I used geological metaphors, personified. I like to think that in this metaphorverse, humans don't exist. I will try to create a more structured way of telling such tales in the future though. Should help with clarity.
Cheers.