Under the blood red sky, Tsura danced. As the world crumbled to conclusion, she danced. She danced for her people. She danced for love. She danced for her dead husband. She danced for her dead daughter. She danced for the child who was not her own. She danced to praise the gods and to call upon the stars. She danced for Magic. She danced for Life.
And to her steps, the heavens sang.
Joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure, in the flash of her hands, the patter of her bare feet, the jingles of the bells upon her wrists and ankles, the swirl of her skirt, and the sway of her hips, all that was human and glorious and honorable and worth holding onto erupted in rhythm and grace.
In the ugliness of the world’s end, she was beautiful and rare and more precious than anything could ever be.
In the face of death, she was defiant.
But her heart broke.
Even as she smiled, a tear rolled down her cheek.
The curse of precognition was in her blood.
The time of sacrifice drew close–and someone was about to die.
– Clarisse, Daughter of the Gypsy Queen, Chovihanis-in-training –
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WIZARD'S WORKSHOP 
Such a beautiful description of movement …
Thank you, Sara.
So sorry to read about your grandfather. My best wishes to you and your family.
And … I too am not a Hemingway fan. As a journalist, Hemingway wrote for the average reading level of his time (roughly 8th grade). If one were to write now as a “Hemingway”, you would have to write down to a 5th grade reading level. I don’t believe in “writing down” to my readers nor do I believe in contributing to thinning the rich stew that is our language.
His language surely wrote down to his audience, but an 8th grader would NEVER understand what the guy was trying to say. I’m not sure I ever understand haha … Hemingway’s success and fame is something of a mystery to me when there were so many others in his time who deserved more acclaim.
Reblogged this on bearsgoatsandstrawberries.
Thank you! I love to be shared. 🙂
Thank you! I love my work to be shared. 🙂