Seasons change, tides turn

As she walked purposefully toward the hill crest the leaves didn’t crunch underfoot, they whispered. Still their message was clear.

Respect the passage of time.

Diana didn’t need the reminder though. Everywhere she looked the delicate balance of life and death was being played out for all to see. Healthy feed corn on withered stalks. Vibrant colored trees dropping leaves like rainclouds. Even the air seemed to spin with wild abandon from sunlight warmed to bonfire perfumed icy breath.

She like the manic feel of Fall. The frenzy of soaking up every last dappled drop of light before night overtook day. The rush of completing each autumnal event on the list. Apple picking, check. Pumpkin carving, check. Cider mulling, double check. Each outdoor activity fighting off the not so secret fear of a pending winter. To Diana euphoria tempered with melancholia was the ideal mindset for this moody season.

From August through November she had watched the world change before her very eyes with each storm or frosty morning. Finally, perched at last upon her vantage point the whole of Diana’s small town was laid out before her. It was quaint, her town, filled with a bright history, like so many others, but it’s future was shadowy at best. For a moment it seemed to Diana that she could see both past and future in that panorama. For a second the frenzy gave way to clarity.

Seasons change, tides turn, and time marches on.

In the face of such certainty Diana felt easy for the first time in months. We are all in this together she thought, looking longingly over her shoulder jealously wanting to hold on to her moment of peace, during dark winter nights and balmy summer days… only time would tell which way the balance was falling.

Sin Eater (7 of 7)

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I’m soaked through to the skin before the heavy doors of the convent close. I blink the world back into focus. It seems too dim, as if I looked overlong into the sun, but it isn’t. Its just the way I left it. The wet weight of my knife begs to differ. Three blemishes upon society gone, and one innocent…if not saved then at least helped. But I am not an equalizer, I’m a sin eater, and as the sound of sirens fill my ears the hunger returns.

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Well that’s the end…for now.  Thanks for reading!

If you stayed with me till the end thank you, it means a lot. I hope you liked it. I wrote this all at once, but decided that it felt more like a graphic novel than a traditional fiction. So I released it one paragraph at a time. Each post like a flipped page.

Please, leave a comment I would love to hear what you think.

Sin Eater (6 of 7)

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The rain starts up signifying the nearing end of my night. The wail of an infant pulls at me. I follow the sound to a dirty vacant lot where some tweeking crack whore has abandoned her misbegotten offspring. Even covered in filth its the purest thing I’ve seen tonight, the closest to true white this grey world can offer.

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Tomorrow is the last post in this serial blog.  I hope I kept your interest.  Thanks, as always, for stopping by.

Sin Eater (5 of 7)

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Would be John number three hits the pavement hard. The looker with the eyes scoffs as she bends down to relieve the man of his valuables. In her stilettos she cuts quite the backlit silhouette pocketing her treasures. She never hears me as I wrap her in my embrace. There’s no need to whisper in her ear she’s already asking herself if it was worth it. I bet…our answers differ.

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Did you think it would be the woman or the man after yesterday’s post?  Hope I have kept you interested.  Thanks for reading!

Sin Eater (4 of 7)

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The jazzy music slides over her skin like smokey silk. Her practiced smile barely hides the animal hunger in her deeply kohled eyes, but all the poor sucker on the stool beside her sees is the come hither in her bold touch and shy words.

I see blind leading blind.

He’s no angel. It’s not to gently escort her home that he takes her arm, and she knows it.

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Sin Eater (3 of 7)

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I walk away as if nothing happened because nothing did. The corpse behind me is further diminished with each step, but the discord it represents is not. This one calculated strike has not, cannot, rebalance the scales. So I continue on. My measured footfall upon the concrete is steady, and the building thunder threatening a torrential downpour reassuring. Let the heavens weep for humanity.

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Hello, this is part three of of a serial blog which started on Monday the 17th.  Thanks for reading.

Sin Eater (2 of 7)

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I lean in closer looking at the world reflected in his ruddy mess. Never had the dark stains upon him been more clear than in that moment. He gave nothing to the greater good and all it cost him was everything. His one and only gift was color to this grey place, and not even that did he give willingly.

The moment passes, and the puddle becomes nothing more than the tacky ink of a poorly drafted life.

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If you are still with me from yesterday yay, if not then go back one post to better understand this post 🙂  Happy readings!

Sin Eater (1 of 7)

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I see a world of greys masquerading as one of blacks and whites. This pompous man beneath my knife is cloaked in the white of innocence because there is no chargeable wrong in his past. I cannot connect him to any criminal findings, but innocent…I think not. I watched as the small sins of this arrogant man piled up into monstrous mountains that rival even the most heinous of offenders. My knife falls and the world around me lightens. Crimson.

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This is part one of a story which I have broken into seven pieces.  I will be posting each of these parts on consecutive days.  This is the first time I have truly serial blogged so…I hope you come with me on this journey.  Also, that I make it worth your wait.  Thanks for reading!