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The trip to the shadow world, the call from Luke and the rolling of the eyes of Delilah

Posted by SpiritWriter , 10 September 2012 · 1,451 views

spirit writer shadow people ghosts witches slaves
The trip to the shadow world, the call from Luke and the rolling of the eyes of Delilah _______ came to me in the evening. In the middle of our love-making he wanted to teach me a trick. He wanted to give me further truths about the secret of his appearances and give me access to the land of his normal existence. He suggested that I go deeper inside myself, inside of us, to a place where we would be even more alone. In that place he stroked me. We were intense inside each other, not only he in me, but also I in him, for he was wrapped around me. The only recognition I had of my regular body was that the amount of sweat that proceeded out of me was more than normal, and I wondered how much of my fluid had increased. He did not seem to notice this. All he could see was that my body had become illuminated. I shone brightly against him. We were in our cave. He wanted to speak to me there. He muffled the noise of my mouth with his hand and asked me to listen. Tears came from my eyes and he wiped them away as he continued to touch me. The darkness of the cave broke away like the shattering of a shell as an outside light compelled it. He whispered, the way a thirsty man would whisper to fruit and I became full with the love of him.

He showed me pictures of the jungle, of the wild animals that obeyed him, of the growth of the plants that he himself had tamed. He took us to a large branch. Beneath our feet grew a platform of smooth bark and proclaimed it as our hiding place. It was the first time I had been a shadow. I did not think to try to stretch my arms and do the things that I knew that they could do. I was not afraid but electrified.The broad trunk of the tree was behind me, digging into my back and shoulder blades, giving back to me my vibrations. It was not because of the wind that it was swaying. After we became rested in the beating of our hearts, on the branch we laid. I put a finger out and pushed aside a giant heart shaped leaf that dangled, blocking my view. Below us was a blue moving river and the orange cashew shaped movements of jaguars. Fresh hibiscus rose into my nose. The air was warm. No sooner than I smelled the rain drops were heard. I welcomed them, or not. Both would be the same, and because of our covering only a few splashed from me.

_______ tilted his smile down, bending his neck so that his face was in my hair. My head lifted and declined with the rise and recede of his breathing. My heart was on his ribs, his youthful chest, was on my face, beneath me.

"Stay with me here, in this land, _______. Lets be together always, the way it was supposed to be." He said to me.
"Perhaps." I replied. I lied, not knowing how I could return, but knowing that I would. "You know that I cannot _______, for I do not know how. I will live my life for now. I am not made for the world of the shadows, I am a living human being. I like the solid ground. I like placing down my feet. When someone looks at me, they know what they see. They look at me and know they see _______. But you are a man who is secret, a man that cannot be confessed of being seen." I knew it would be a long time before I came to this place again. "You are my channel _______. I must ride you to arrive here. How can I disappear from my body and stay here, surely my life would turn rigid, cold and left to be carted away for the vultures? I must stay solid for our child. It is hard enough for him that he has a ghost for a father! Living this life, your life, would be difficult for me."

"In due time, my sweet. I pray that you will be with me." He replied patiently. He sounded far away and like someone who may be growing doubtful.

"How will I return home _______?" I asked, not worried but ponderous. I was only slightly afraid for my body. I knew where I left it. It was in the dark room on the other side of _______'s kitchen. Surely she was working there, tediously marking away at the manuscript she had recently become so involved in. I knew there was a time difference, that over here was no where near to over there, that they were contrast, that neither side knew each others rhyming. If I were gone for hours beyond my usual nap, I was sure _______ would tend to me, even for days for that matter, but the thought of that frightened me. He had taken a moment and I became desperate for my answer.

"Fear not my love, you will wake up as if from a dream, it is a pity however. It will be a while again until you will see me." He said with a sigh.

"Exchange my life for your life! Become as you are _______! Should I be like you and too be dead?" I said.

"I am not dead _______! Feel me, touch my skin. You know that I'm alive, or else how could I have put life inside of you?" This was his reply.

Still confused I blinked. I opened my eyes and was alone in my bed.  I shifted on my mat. Within moments a cold hand clasped upon me. _______ cleared away the black mass of braids that columned my face. She shook me and saw that I was ok and so she stood and spun to walk away.

"You may have the blood of a ________, but your father is long dead and you still are only a b****** child. Do you really feel entitled to such lofty vacations? I was trying to wake you for more than a day. You were becoming the death of me. Luke called. I did not tell him of your condition, he should not know of your weaknesses, and never in his sight should you appear vulnerable or sick. I told him you were on a mission for me and that you would visit the manor as soon as you have washed and prepared for him. He brought you this robe." _______ scampered to the corner and held it up for me. It had been long since _______'s upright attitude had offended me and I was not sick as she supposed but alive and thoroughly refreshed.

"What manner of a robe is that? That is unlike any other garment Luke has asked me to wear." I asked her.

"Oh! Are you jealous that he no longer sees you as his prostitute _______? Put it on and stop asking so many questions."

The robe was matte silk, long and black and accompanied by loose fitting trousers of the same material. _______ set out the perfumed oil, the soap and the turquoise comb for my hair.

"Do you want me to help you?" She asked.

"Yes. Please rake out my hair _______ and part it for me. I will wash it myself and then you can set my curls."

_______ removed the bands and pins and placed them in a tin on the decorative tile of a small nearby table. She unbraided my hair, making grunts and rude comments as she worked that I both ignored and expected. I often wondered why she grumbled so, especially about hair, and especially because it was my head that had to endure her complaining and yanking. I poured my own water and took a soak, allowing myself a generous time. I would not rush for Luke. I will arrive and he will see that I am fresh and well rested. I will not over do it with the oil like I did last time. Not that I care what he thinks, but if he accused me of stealing again I would have had to embarrass him in front of his household. I breathed deeply and sunk my head in the fragrant water allowing bubbles to come out of my nose and rest about the upper portion of my face. In the blackness of my mind I thought of _______, his voice echoing in its chamber.  'Fear not my love, you will wake up as if from a dream, it is a pity however. It will be a while again until you will see me.' My heart was full of sorrow, but no more than normal. I was glad at least for the memory.

"I will keep it to myself." I said. "No one would believe me anyway."

I arrived at the slaves entrance, humbly with bare feet. My face was down, in an expression of my new found deception. The slave woman that greeted me was Delilah, she was no mood for my trickery and rolled her eyes, but not before glancing at my attire. She looked the same as always. She wore a tarnished blouse with floral printed fabric, it may have been nice at one time. Strands of thread jutted out in many places, including the edges of holes and rips, and along the neck and hem. She wore a pair of khaki colored men trousers, cut around the legs, just below her butt. They looked soiled with poop, but they were only stained. Her hair was short and sticking in the air. I could read her thoughts as she assessed me. She was calling me a whore. I decided she wasn't worthy of my attempts of humbleness and so I stepped across the threshold with surety. She scampered off to get the maid.

Ever Learning
Sep 10 2012 12:16 PM
Your a good writer, keep it up.
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Sep 10 2012 01:50 PM
Thank you EverLearning! :)
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