the storyteller

i picked a few words that i love.

words that evoke fables & fairy tales
words that inspire me to seek
the cottage in the woods
the full moon rising
a wise woman
gathering
magical
herbs

the words:

ancient
ethereal
wood
forest
fable
storyteller
worn
weaver
tale
trinket
whisper
read
stalk
still
waver

the story snippet with the words:

“the storyteller”

i never should have
opened
my door
i just should have
snuggled
deeper
underneath the warm woolen blankets
as my cat curled close
purring
kneading

i should have simply
listened to the wood pop and crack
watching the embers in the fireplace
flash and glow

i should have paid more attention
to the strange feeling
that i felt
a premonition
that i knew
so very deep
within

i should have
ignored the pounding
on my cottage door
so very late
into the night

as the shining sliver
of the silver moon
rose
up into
the stillness
of the dark cloudless
night sky

hovering

for a moment
as the clock struck
the midnight
hour

i should have gone back to sleep

but the boy at my door
was insistent
i knew
he was not going
away

the wooden door
groaned and creaked
as i opened it

the youth on my
doorstep
was much younger than i expected
his beard was just becoming visible
he felt familiar
maybe i had seen him
at the sunday market
i wasn’t sure

what do you want?
i asked

in his shaking hand
he clutched a simple trinket
grasping it
as if it was a powerful
talisman

at first
he didn’t speak

it’s ok
you can tell me
i said

“storyteller” he said softly

i had to lean forward to hear
his whispered words

“tell me
the story
that isn’t written
the story
that is never told”

he begged me
to invoke
the forbidden words
of a dangerous ancient tale
left unspoken
for so very many, many years past
the tale was almost
forgotten

he was so very young
i was surprised
he knew

he begged and begged and begged me
i knew he would not
back down

so i asked him in

we settled into chairs
beside the fireplace
i needed
warmth and light
to tell the tale

it was the first time
i had ever told the tale
storyteller
though i was

i read the words
from the faded bits
of my childhood memories
the forbidden fable
told to me
so many
many
years
ago

i told him
the tale

it was about a wise woman
she was a weaver by trade
and on her worn wooden loom
she wove ethereal creatures
in intricate patterns
into wool cloth

sometimes she wove
a stag
or a fox
or a hedgehog

sometimes
it was a mouse and a cat

the wise woman
simply touched the cloth
and the cat
on the tapestry
wavered
blinked
and began to stalk
the timid mouse

as i got deeper into the tale
i felt a shiver slither
throughout my body
as the story began to shift
and change

as i was about to utter
the next set of words

the words quickly
slipped away from me
and before i grab them back again
a different phrase had pushed them out
and took their place

i struggled

trying to catch and control
the direction of the flow of the narrative
but it wouldn’t
allow me

it continued to dart just beyond my grasp

and the tale began
to tell itself

i became a conduit
a simple narrator
with each turn of the tale
with each increasingly
swift
shift
i had to hang on
and let the words
flow freely

the boy was terrified
barely sitting
as he listened
shifting
back
and forth
on the tip
of his
seat

i noticed
the fire in the hearth

the flames
grew

as the wood
popped and cracked
i heard the wind picked up outside
it rattled the shutters
and a spray of shimmering ashes burst out
and scattered across
the stone
floor

i felt lightheaded
as the room began
to spin
and shake

the boy fled

the floor shifted
and cracked
i tried to hold on
but slid instead

then
i was

falling

falling

falling

trying
to grasp
something

anything

but there was

nothing

nothing

nothing

nothing

i landed
on thick moss
a forest floor
under a full moon

scattered around me
were two broken chairs
a blanket
my journal and
a pen……..

written by Susan Eileen Jizba
Weaver & Wordsmith….the Weaver of Words
http://www.etsy.com/shop/TheWeaverOfWords

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