Shiri Eneas (pensivxpression) wrote in olympian_rewind, @ 2011-05-26 19:19:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | polyhymnia, shiri eneas |
Who: Shiri (solo)
What: It’s not the end of the world and someone doesn’t feel fine.
Where: In a park near her and Adam’s home
When: May 22, 2011. Early morning.
Warning: none
It was a beautiful Sunday morning. The world always seemed to have beautiful weather when it failed to end as scheduled. The birds always seemed to sing louder, the trees always seemed to sway more joyfully, the flowers always seemed to bloom more brightly. It always seemed to her like all of creation sang a song in taunt of man’s desired hope of its annihilation.
The day was so nice, the sun so bright and her mortal husband so asleep that Shiri couldn’t help but throw on a plain white dress and saffron veil with matching belt and slip away to take an early morning stroll. Even as she left out the front door, she daydreamed about the sun’s warmth would feel against her skin and how her engagement and wedding rings would sparkle when she found just the perfect patch of light to lounge in for a short while.
Her aimless stroll brought her beyond the quaint little houses of the quiet neighborhood and to the pleasant tucked away park the neighborhood children frequented in the afternoons when it wasn’t raining but with each step a deep sense of disquiet settled more and more heavily upon her shoulders as if she was being watched.
At the threshold of the park, between the two oversized and poorly painted statues of a honey bee and an alligator, she paused. On normal days, their cartoon faces in contrast to the danger they would pose with their huge, exaggerated sizes if they were real would amuse her but now, she didn’t even glance at them. The fine white hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she stood between them and her heart pounded so loudly in her chest that not only could she hear but she was certain it was going to wake up her sleepy neighborhood behind her. Her fear shifted from fearing all of Miami could hear the drumming of her frantic heartbeat to simply being afraid of standing there any longer.
The disquiet had turned to panic and Shiri didn’t want to know what was watching her, she just wanted to flee away.
She took a hesitating step back and slowly turned to bolt but she never quite turned all the way around. A strong wind blew against her and her trepidation departed from her as if carried aloft in the breeze just as the seed pods of the nearby dandelions had.
Her eyes narrowed in determination as she returned on her path between the two carved beasts. Where she was going was not a concern of hers; she walked with the confidence of one that was led to where she was meant to be. Her sudden intense singular focus made it impossible for her to even wish to question that confidence.
Instead, that singular focus made her further narrow her pink eyes as she caught sight of a man in his early thirties sitting atop a tree branch only to then ease himself down, revealing the noose around his neck. The fact that he had managed to attempt to commit suicide via hanging in the worst, slowest and most painful possible variant was another thing that was not the muse’s concern.
As she rushed forward, her only concern was intervention. Her eyes burnt a bright blue in holy indignation as she pulled her saffron veil up for it to not blow away in her movement and then slid beneath the man’s dangling feet. Straightening up to be knelt beneath him, he dangling no longer but was supported upon her shoulders and she gripped his ankles with either hand to ensure he remained there.
The noose no longer choked him but kept him from falling backwards and she fumed beneath him. What fools these mortals be! How ignorantly they tried to end their existences!
“Let me go!” the man shouted, his eyes still shut from the pain and apprehension his suicide attempt had brought him, not that she could see his face or cared to even try. “Why are you – I’ve got nothing to live for – It’s my--!”
And how ungrateful they were, too. She dug her nails deep into the bare skin of his ankles to allow him to know exactly how ungrateful she thought he was being and yet replied to his incomplete declarations in a firm, but contrastingly beautiful tone, “Behold, the eye of the Lord is upon them that fear Him, upon them that hope in His mercy; to deliver their souls from death.”
“Don’t talk to me about—!” The muse didn’t know what had caused the man’s words to so suddenly cut off. She certainly wasn’t aware of how the radiance of the holy light of her burning blue eyes caused her simple white dress, saffron accessories and pale skin to glimmer and further reflect it around her in an iridescent halo. “Oh my—“
But she did make sure to cut him off when he continued, “I am thy fellow servant, and of thy brethren the prophets… Worship G-d.”
The man went silent but only for a moment. The silence of his confusion and awe gave way to a choking sob and she could feel his despair long before he spoke again in how he trembled upon her shoulders, long before he tried to speak again half-muffled by the tears he tried to hold back, “I believed Camping’s every –“
“Knowing this first, that no prophecy of the scripture is of any private interpretation. For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man; but holy men of G-d spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost,” the muse purposely interrupted again. Was reactions like this man’s and all those before him in history the reason the Most High looked upon humanity as children? Because this constant, repetitive foolishness of Man was either childish or insane and childish was the more complimentary choice? What was Man that the Most High kept them in mind like He did?
“No…” The man weakly refuted, with no true confidence or strength behind his rebuke but the muse made a point to listen carefully as he continued because of it, “The Rapture… May 21st…. The date was in the Bible. Camping didn’t want it but…”
Her reply was near instantaneous as she bowed her head and kept it low, “ ‘Many false prophets shall rise, and shall deceive many. But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.’” She spoke the words somehow emphasizing the unspoken quote marks and only lifted her head when every part was passed her lips, unspoken quote marks and all.
The man’s voice was then further muffled as he covered his face with his hands and lifted his gaze to the sky. She knew he had lifted his attention heavenward simply by the sound of his muffled sobs and she considered the shift in his attentions such an improvement she ceased to drive her nails into his tender flesh. But his despair was still so acute, even more so now, “I sold my house… quit my job… gave away my saving… euthanized my dog…”
Beneath the man and beneath her veil, the muse smiled. Such faith, even if it had been misguided and misdirected, pleased her greatly and filled her with a glee that almost rivaled the intensity of her focus. A wayward river could be redirected to reach the sea, it was much harder to lead a dry riverbed to the same destination. “The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed to us.”
The man was weeping now without shame or resistance. She could feel how his balance swayed upon her shoulders and how a couple of his tears had made the almost improbable journey from down his face to upon her veil between his heartfelt sobs. The firmness left her voice, replaced with a gentleness which only further accented the heavenly sound of her voice as she bowed her head again and urged, “Make haste and come down!”
“But…” It was such a pitifully reply.
And the muse had no desire to hear anymore pitiful words from this mortal man today. He was coming down from this tree and he was coming down the way she wanted him to come down despite how dense he seemed to be. “He delighteth not in the strength of the horse; He taketh not pleasure in the legs of a man. The Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear Him, in those that hope in His mercy. Thus,” she bowed her head again, “Make haste and come down!”
Once more she lifted her head but this time she lifted it further so the crown of her head brushed against his shins and for the first time attempted to meet his eyes with her own. The wind blew gently then, sweeping her veil over her face but it did nothing to conceal her unnaturally lit eyes, “For Judas cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, and departed and went and hanged himself. But ye are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of G-d dwells in you. And we know that all things work together for good to them that love G-d, to them who are called according to His purpose. For whom He foreknew, He also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of His Son, that He might be the firstborn among many brethren.”
For a moment there was just silence, but then suddenly the man fell backwards and the noose hung empty above her as he crashed down to the grass. She wheeled around and remained knelt down as she laid a tender touch to the side of the man’s face. She gently continued, “If there be therefore any consolation in Christ, let this mind be in you, which was in Christ Jesus. Who, being in the form of G-d, thought it not robbery to be equal with G-d, but made Himself of no reputation and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men. And being found in the fashion as a man, He humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. Consider how great things He hath done for you. Rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing. In everything give thanks, for this is the will of G-d in Christ Jesus concerning you.”
Finally, through her tender touch, she allowed her inspiration to flood into him, at last determining he was at the point where it would be the most powerful upon his soul and spirit. His eyes widened at the sensation and all of his previous despair was swept away from his features, the only evidence that it had ever existed was the dampness upon his face and the noose that swung in the breeze above. Laying prone in the grass, he shouted up to the heavens joyfully, “Salvation to our G-d which sits upon the throne, and to the Lamb!”
Heedless of the fact that her veil covered her face, the muse smiled and responded, “Amen. Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be unto our God forever and ever. Amen.”
The muse had smiled and even responded to the man but she hadn’t stopped inspiring him. She didn’t stop even as she bowed her head once more, her inspiration continued to flood through him, body, soul and spirit, “Watch therefore, for ye know not the hour your Lord doth come. But know this, that if the goodman of the house had known in what watch the thief would come, he would have watched, and would not have suffered his house to be broken up. Therefore be ye also ready, for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of man cometh.” As she spoke, consoled and instructed him, she watched as he went from the grip of religious fervor to the heights of religious ecstasy to finally passing out under the weight of it all.
Only then did she pull back her hand.
Still, she continued to stare down at him even as she rose to her feet – unnaturally so, as if she was lifted by her shoulders. She continued to look down to him even as she turned from him. Even as she took a few stumbled steps away from him as if she had been nudged unexpectedly. It was only a few stumbled steps and then she regained her fluid gait and departed not just from the man’s unconscious side but also from the park in general. With each step, her eyes dimmed until they returned to their normal pink and the radiance around her faded.
At the threshold of the park, between the two poorly painted sculpted beasts, Shiri finally looked down at her hands for a long moment. The blood at her fingertips wasn’t what suddenly unnerved her when she realized what exactly had just happened.
Her pleasant little stroll was officially over. She was rushing back home and was going to try to forget all of this as quickly as she could.
Muse she may be, but over the centuries she had learned she preferred to be the inspirer, not the inspired.
Today was absolutely no different.
Summary: The day after the advertised but unfulfilled Judgment Day, Shiri decided to take a pleasant little stroll in the sunshine. When she reached the nearby park, she found man in the process of hanging himself due to his disappointment and the muse found the inspiration to save him.