The word of the day is Wonder.
"It won't be long now, Emily." Cressida smiled at her little sister. This would be Emily's first time to attend the yearly gathering, and she danced her enthusiasm as the two of them walked. They had all heard the stories, the legends, the myths. Each year, only on this day, the Phoenix was supposed to sing. No one knew why anymore; the oldest legends said that the bird sang to regenerate the world for another year, heralding the arrival of spring.
It was said that the song of the Phoenix was the purest form of music ever heard. It was as if the entire host of angels opened the heavens to sing, those who had heard it said. Only some people were chosen to hear the song, and those who had were said to be blessed. Those who actually saw the rare bird were doubly gifted. Cressida had never known anyone who had seen the bird, and only her father had ever heard the song, according to their mother.
They rode the waves of the people flowing toward the protected area. Hushed and expectant, humanity lined the hills surrounding the tiny circle of trees. As crushed together as the people were, there was no pushing; all were raptly staring down into the trees, waiting. The sun rose slowly over the world; wonder engulfed the masses until it seemed that everyone was holding their breath, straining to hear a single note.
It was said that the song of the Phoenix was the purest form of music ever heard. It was as if the entire host of angels opened the heavens to sing, those who had heard it said. Only some people were chosen to hear the song, and those who had were said to be blessed. Those who actually saw the rare bird were doubly gifted. Cressida had never known anyone who had seen the bird, and only her father had ever heard the song, according to their mother.
They rode the waves of the people flowing toward the protected area. Hushed and expectant, humanity lined the hills surrounding the tiny circle of trees. As crushed together as the people were, there was no pushing; all were raptly staring down into the trees, waiting. The sun rose slowly over the world; wonder engulfed the masses until it seemed that everyone was holding their breath, straining to hear a single note.
Cressida felt her sister stiffen, her muscles tightening. The sisters shared their anxiety in a quick glance, as a look of astonishment fell over Emily's face. As Cressida stared at her sister, Emily began to smile, her eyes looking nowhere. Then her eyes rolled up into her head, and Emily fell over backwards, her convulsions causing her to bite her tongue. Cressida's heart jolted, a sharp sense of envy, as she realized that her sister was hearing the song of the Phoenix.
Nice story - enjoyed it :-)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful descriptions. You crafted the scene very well.
ReplyDeleteOoooh! I love this. And that only some can/will hear it.
ReplyDeleteA story of a chosen one... it comes at a cost that maybe we're willing to make. I could see it all through your description. Nice flow, nice story.
ReplyDeleteVery interesting story. Beautifully descriptive.
ReplyDeletevery Earthy and light moving for such an emotionally impactful work. Great job, Tina.
ReplyDeleteO__O
ReplyDeleteI think I don't need to hear the song.
Yeah, I'm good.
Great piece! :D
Very fascinating!It left me wondering whether Emily was really hearing the Phoenix sing or was she having an epileptic fit-& the people were ignorant about it-the reference to her Dad having heard it too,was a nice twist-possibly cos Epilepsy is hereditary?:-)
ReplyDelete