As the evenings grew dark and the cool of the night brought her close to me. I would sit there with my arms wrapped around her and tell her all the stories I knew.
I told her of how I'd made this world just for her. I told her of all the plants, animals, mountains and rivers I had spread across it for her to name.
I told her how I'd created a sun to shine on her and rains to wash away the dust of the day. I told her of the moon and stars up in the blackness of the night for her to wish upon and wonder.
I told her of all the birds I'd made to sing to her of the morning. The sweet fruits I'd grown for her long slow afternoons.
Then she'd turn to me and ask why she was the only one. I would look at her and smile, saying that every world needs a goddess. She would be that one, the one to make this whole world turn. I told her that soon she would have worshippers and priests, priestesses and followers all begging her to intercede and save their souls and lives.
But, until then I wanted her only for myself.
[Books by David Hadley are available here (UK) or here (US).]
No comments:
Post a Comment