hollow_song

Eleanor paced in the silence of all that seemed with nothing to penetrate the dreary still-life before her. It seemed like a painting, empty of all life yet powerful enough to move the grains of timelessness so boldly one could stare - stare as their eyes swam crystal cold beneath a fire of movement stirring ineveitably in the shadows of all that seemed.
A distanced figure stood by the lake. His figured stained the skyline with his presense. The earth beneath him quivered but no sound could be heard. He seemed gentle, from a distance his skin appeared to hold the sun-deprived quality of dampened wood on a rainy day.
The surrounding branches swayed and curled themselves around the bitter frosted air and the distanced lake seemed stripped of any outstanding colour. The air seemed drowned and heavy with her thoughts. From beneath her shadowed branch very few rays seeped through the hanging grey.
Children's laughter and screaming whirled about her senses, their soft unblemished bodies dangled carelessly in the breeze - the swing-sets creaked with their presense. She couldn't read their intentions, like being part of the audience in an aging stage - a mime filled with playful scenes and hidden meanings.
Eleanor remembered the first time she had come here, a child at that time - running to be free from the insurmountable fear-filled flame which had consumed her shaking body.
Her mother had barely managed to meet her eyes as her tightened fingers clenched themselves around the kitchen benchtop. Eleanor remembered focusing on her mother's lifeless eyes in disbelief - almost losing herself in the courseness of her mother's age-lined face.
"It's the only way." Her mother's voice firmly stated.
Eleanor had found herself running from the scene into the welcomming evening atmosphere. Eleanor recalled her mother's shocked face as she'd held her close, tears on the surface of her skin - and she remembered her sister Amelie's defiant glare - her eyes had shone like overheated lamps still visible against the wrapping darkness.
Eleanor gripped the softened earth beneath her as the past memory temporilly blanketed her mind from the present.
The sky grew slowly yet fatefully darker, the moist air now clung to her skin in the growing dampness. The weather raged in an indescribable roar that shattered all feelings of loneliness. Eleanor supposed it was only in such a heartfelt rage that she could never think herself alone.
All remaining traces of life ceased to penetrate the chilling atmosphere. The park was deserted - from the dripping swingset, the frosted treetops and all the way down to the surface of the stream-lined lake - not a soul nor a trace of a figure to penetrate the gloom hanging around her. The moon was wavering, flitting in and out of view behind a curtain of low-slung clouds as Eleanor rose delicate away from the beating rage of the weather surrounding her.


Her hair hung thick on her shoulders, draping over her back like a curtain dripped in darkness. The porch light sung with warmth and she reached calmly for the front door. A sweet scent filled her instantly, coaxed by the baking lounge-room chairs in all their skin-wrapping comfort.
She felt enveloped, smothered the way one always does breathing luxuriant flames after a chilling sleepless cold. Croissants were draped across the cream-colored table and the tv hummed too softly for voices to be distinguished.
Her sister wiped back her dyed blonde hair and stretched full-length across the sofa. Ameilie’s face was cupped by the greasy hands of her lover who reguarded her as one would a painted vase.
His legs, so close to her sister’s were stretched in an over-relaxed position. The skin on his smug childlike face seemed to cuddle itself, a stretched regurgitation fo the slickness within. Darren murmured a greeting without removing his sweat-filled hands from Amelie’s face. Amelie maneuvered her hands across his chest then gently pushed him away.
“Letter for you..” Her sister’s words were as revealing as a painted white wall, any emotion lay hiding behind far away curtains - it was not worth the bother of trying to reach through this stage she had locked around herself.
Eleanor sighed and nodded, grasping the letter and moving off outside the loungeroom. You never really taste warmth, she thought with a bitter laugh - until you have drowned yourself in coldness.
The pair had always been distant, since the argument between their mother even more-so. The argument began when her mother had idly commented for days in regret of Amelie’s choice (of lover). The tiny brushings had got to her in the end and it had been behind tightly knitted veils the two had argued - eventually resulting in her mother’s departure.
Her sister’s eyes had sung of such betrayal upon realising Eleanor had been listening to their arguments. A silk bound hatred was just screaming to be released - the train kept rolling and rolling through her sister’s eyes.
Neither had mentioned it since and though her mother’s hospitalisations had increased she’d never thought to settle the matter.

The letter slept on the table, peaceful and dull yet the only object which drew away from the monotonous kitchen walls. Amelie and Darren were evidently still in the loungeroom, the tv now increased to a volume she found difficult to block out.
The letter was most certainly from the orpahanage but she barely had strength to look at it, not so much out of fear but simply because - it was new. Annother object added to her home which seemed only to bring suspicion and perhaps - the ability to raise ebbing memories only to bring them crashing down.
The rain danced in a sorrowful lament just outside her window - dancing raindrops, almost like that of a ballerina replaying the only tune the music box knew.

A shrill piercing reached her thoughts but her mind was far too idle. The musicality of the weather was slowly diving through her insides from a board too high to be seen. Her hands lay graced by her sides and her eyes sat dazed with frosted thoughts, an amber lamp hung loosely by her side.
“Thankyou!” A well-known anger resounded like a heartbeat she’d only just realised was there. Amelie’s fingers tightened around the receiver, her face contorted by unspeakable feelings. Their eyes met and she felt a powerful rage surfacing within her.
“I do everything for you! All you’ve ever done is sat there dreaming, never doing any work - not even answering the goddamn phone!” The desperation in Amelie’s voice seemed for once to be winning against the anger but her body was stuck as ice.
Her sister smiled smiled in a taunting way, familiar lights still stalked her eyes.
“Anything wrong?” Amelie questioned sarcastically in a careless tone.
Eleanor shook her head, attention fully diverted to her sister’s striking behavior.
“Oh, no there wouldn’t be in your little world would there? Cause there is in this one!”
“What - ?” Eleanor’s patience with her sister’s dominating behavior was diluting - she truly wanted to be left alone again.
“That was them on the phone again - it’s about our mother, she’s gone..” the control in her sister’s voice was fading and without waiting she swept to the edge of the room then turned back coldly, “and none of this would have happened if it weren’t for you.”
The next moment Amelie’s fine figure vanished behind the wall in an exceptionally controlled manner.
Eleanor sat still, letting the beaten waves of words wash delicately through her mind.
Gone?
Gone - where? The answer seemed so obvious but she wanted to hear it all. Who from the hospital had she spoken to? The thought of her mother made her picture the rounded perfection of those soft wrapping arms, a comfort she had forced herself to be cold to.
A lash of thunder beat a violent punch at the darkened cloud-swept sky that from the window seemed like dyed cotton dripped in a deep ocean-destined flavor. She moved towards the cordless receiver and hesitated - she had known this moment would come but such a realisation brought no such comfort as tears.
Her sister still conversed in the next room and she had no will to enter her presense. Eleanor’s eyes rested on the window, the freshness of the grass showered in temporary liquid seemed to pause every growing motion whilst revitalising a destructive strength in the breeze outside. She glided to the door, silently as she could and stepped barefoot upon the moist-filled grass.
She could leave all this behind, she realised suddenly. She could abandon these closed boxes of undiscovered thoughts and see where this night would take her -
And she thought suddenly of the children, she wanted to see them again - swinging peacefully together and reminding her of a forcible sense of freedom she’d never had - but the only light came from the diminishing glow of the few faded streetlamps, no such children would be out this night.
Eleanor found it something of a sanctuary to be found in the ongoing stretch of night before her - nothing to keep her alive yet nothing to take it from her.



A violent screech whooshed and raged about her senses and her mind suddenly jerked itself back to consciousness. The pulses of the weather screamed like a warring heartbeat struggling against itself. The beginnings of rain drops echoed repetitively in the diminished night.
Any sense of time seemed lost in itself and she wrapped her frozen arms about her knees as the chilling rage took it's toll on her body.
Vague outlines of figureless objects lay stirring in a colorless manner and the night-filled breeze seemed to silently age as it caressed her mind and wavered across her hair. She felt as vulnerable and open as the large tree she sat next to who's branches swayed and shook in the penetrating growl of mist-thick air.
Carefully the reflections of Ameilie's confrontation wore over her as though she were watching from a mirror. She wanted to reach through the glass and make alterations. A quiet glistening stream swam about her insides but a container seemed to stop them from escaping as passing as real.
Her mother, she recalled - had always seemed more like a grandmother, always have a place to listen yet never anything to give.
A wave of tiredness carried her grains of thought and she felt a strong urge to flow along and loose all sense of consciousness but the moment held firm in her mind. The wind still scurried amidst the shaking treetops and small patters of rain spotted the ground indecisively.
A beaten yawn escaped her at the same time as a sudden violent gust caught her throat driving a gust of tears in it's wake.
The saltry warmth slid between her lips and she savored their lasting flavour. These were not what she considered real tears, real tears came with a vibrant hot flush as the emotions swirled uncontrollably as they splashed across the face. These tears were like stone, a cold seeping that wore from her heart down her cheeks - more like a tap dripping with no purpose and no-one in need of the water.
The volume increased and the rain reached a sudden fortitude as it splashed down over the skin on her arms and wove it's way beneath her clothes. She fought to hold the quivering warmth inside of her as prickles rushed through her veins. The icy water refreshed her and her thoughts no longer had place in the raging darkness of the weather about her.
Eleanor felt a streaming warmth quiver on the edge of her arm and a rush of surprise wavered through her mind.
She stared in a quiet detached boldness at the stranger before her. An owl-like furnace incensed his eyes which vaguely shone like faded streetlamps struggling to hold on to a moment of warmth within their closure.
His clothes grasped about his skin - wrapping over any colour within and enabling him to camouflage perfectly into the darkened rain-filled surroundings.
He held his hand to her - in an indecisive pause she reached for his and climbed unsurely to her feet. He nodded without speaking and led her slowly into the deepened night.
The lake in the distance streamed like a flowing blanket of sky stretched over the land and the continual rush of violent white water fell gushing into it's swirling abyss.
The howling of the forest seemed only matched by the constant gush of rain spurting from the edge of the sky. The cold seemed beyond her now and she followed blankly through the stranger's tracks...



Warmth crisscrossed over the intricate designs paving the footpath, illuminated by a silver ray fazing across the ancient stone path before her.
He led her through the darkened golden hallway, great pillars hung in the corners and she noted stained glass windows bearing ancient images she barely recognized. Confusion laid down over her thoughts and the edge of her eyelashes were still moist from the outside rain - a bitter sigh escaped her at the realisation she had no idea where was - she let it pass in the distanced auror hanging about the fading hallway.
Despite the cold she smiled slightly in all her confusion and a great sense of longing swirled inside of her. A constant avalanche of emotion slipped and danced across her mind like a ballerina on a closed and breaking stage..


She hesitated a moment longer before the lightless wooden door then pushed the softness forward with her hands. Something about the room seemed to grasp her like a reaching claw that resided on the edge of her mind.
An almost pleasant dust-brushed auror played about the murky room. A fading glow flickered from a miniature lamp by the wall which allowed a gently warmth to faze over the creaks on the tearing distanced curtain.
She moved towards the sofa and turned towards his half-hidden figure caught by the absense of colour in the shape of his shadowed eyes.
He appeared almost selfless - an unchanging expression of forgotten longing covered any sign of movement behind the skin glossing over his lined face. The stranger's isolation drove a cool chill of desperation seeping through her skin that resided somewhere in a deep corner of her mind.
A morose tear wore away from her untiring eyelashes and landed like a fluttering section of paper against the musted floor. The discoloured teardrop clunked repetitively through her ears and her mind began to wander to the point she forgot where she was standing. She was listening and watching in such a way she could almost disappear into this colourless shadowed room forever.

His light touch softened her trance-like state as he placed a thick covered jacket round her shoulders and withdrew.
"You can rest here until the storm passes." His words were firm but flowing almost like melting snow gliding as it gently disappears. She sat watching the musted room about her until she realised with a soft rustle of surprise that she was alone.
Large flocks of amber leaves drove about the air outside in furious circles and the rain still crashed form the sudden onset of purple-black sky which created a mysterious blanket about the world. All sense of time dispersed and she felt a sudden swooping sense of loss as she stared - her eyes enclosed in the dust-like frame of the window.
She felt like a child who's wishes had been denied as she stared icily out the window. Here, in this room, a sanctuary seemed to hold itself about her and the world outside seemed like her raging emotion world - shadows from the unfelt breeze outside danced across the wooden floorboards.
What a day, she murmured to her sleep-filled body as she rested in undisturbed stillness on the sofa before her.


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Amelie stared at the markings on his creamish skin a moment longer - her decision weakened and uncertainty wrapped itself around her once more. His clamped hands grasped her waist on either side and pulled himself closer to her - she felt vaguely robotic as she stroked her hand across his cheek.
The dust of these lies, she felt, seemed to be growing and she felt somewhat suffocated beneath her mound of foolish uncertainty.
"Where is your sister?" Her disgust deepened and she turned icily away from him. Had she herself been gone - would he have asked about her this soon?
She swallowed the question.
"If her leaving bothers you then - " her eyes glided towards the door.
"Oh for goodness sake!" He slammed his hand against his side and crossed the small hallway to the front door. He didn't slam the door as she'd expected but closed it softly in a resigned finishing gesture.
Amelie wrapped her hands around the cool metal doorknob and stepped outside as the flowering scent of air greeted her face. She felt oddly shaken but the feelings of loss weren't new to her - she kept going each day with simple routines in order to keep her in place; cooking ham and toast in the mornings, a long shower followed by coffee at Riverside's and afternoons of magazine crosswords as she indulged herself for hours before the tv. Her mother had owned a banking firm and the family lived off the wealth from it.
Morning was transcending to noon so she began her journey to Riverside coffee shop.
The consistent rumbling sensation of the road beneath her and the feel of the gear-sticks held her in place as she wove her way about the streets.


The walls of the coffee shop were dimmed - light sparkles of sunlight wafted in through the half-hidden window sending prickling steaming warmth pattering across her skin. The reassuring scent of freshly brewed coffee danced on the top of the air and she thanked the uniformed waitress who carried across her coffee.
It seemed the staff had not only memorised her order but also the time she came. She gently sipped the subtle perfection of correctly measured coffee - she wouldn't have it any other way.
A familiar figure roughly pushed open the glass doorway and Amelie felt her throat tighten.
She felt as though she resided in the tip of a well-composed wave that was destined - at some point - to come crashing down. He leaned against the cream table and his tanned blonde hair spiked against her face as he pecked her lips with his.
She shuddered involuntarily swallowing the kiss as though it were an unpleasant memory and he pulled back whilst staring at her.
"Somehow I knew you'd be here." His shimmery blue eyes attempted to capture hers but she looked away, focusing instead on the cream-toned window to her side.
She heard his groan of frustration, "Look I don't know what I can say but I'm sorry okay?" She shook her head almost too quickly and his oceanic eyes and mouth widened in bewilderment.
"Forget it Dan -" She knew how he hated this name, "I don't want to go ahead with any of this - not with you." She finished softly and knew she had said too much.
His eyes narrowed in anger, "You're just like she used to say you were! Have it your way then.." She could taste the anger on his breath as the table shook and he stood up suddenly. She listened to his footsteps clunk against the wooden floor.
You're just like she said you were - she recalled his words and sat back in silent thought for a few moments then paid for her coffee.


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(all I have so far)

teflon

The following are either puzzling Britishisms or typos:

auror, absense, saltry


It would help an online reader if the story was paragraphed into blocks of 30-60 words, separated by an extra carriage return, as you already have in
Your narrative is rich in classic and easy-to-read passages. Against that as the background, the adverbs such as these

sound amateurish.


This makes for elegant, admirable voice:

Oracle

If you leave a line between paragraphs I, and many others, would be more likely to read it. It's easier on the eyes that way. Just thought I should let you know.

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The bubble is round.

horrorcrafter

too many beautiful words, too close together. I love all the word choices but putting them this close together makes the work seem wordy. You have to spread out all those pretty descriptive words like crystal and put more normal words in between. Do you know what I mean? You'd reach more folks if they didn't have to work so hard to read your stuff. Just trying to be helpful. Keep up the hard work,
Horrorcrafter

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Canadian Lynx are beautiful sensitive creatures which are very good mothers and they make a wide variety of sounds such as meows, purrs, cough-barks, growls, and screams like a woman. She is the next mammal to become extinct in North America largely because we waste so much paper. Please reduce, reuse, and recycle. Cheers, Horrorcrafter

hollow_song

Thankyou all who commented. All suggestions / critique will be paid close attention to as I begin work on a re-write.