Upon the Steely Gray Clouds

by Barrudaki

Warning: This story was written without permission of MCA/Universal studios, it is in no way intended for profit or to infringe on copyright, the contents of this story suggests a love between two women. If this makes you squirm in your seat, may I suggest a subscription to highlights? If you are under 18 go annoy your parents or play video games. If you live in a state that prohibits this type of material feel free to move.

I would like to thank my mom for always encouraging me to live my dreams and for always believing in me even when I didnít.

Please e-mail comments and constructive criticism to Barrudaki@aol.com


Upon the steely gray clouds, floats a once forgotten dream. The breeze whispers of dream scenes, that wonder through my mind. In the distance the faint smell of blood lingering passes my nose. All my senses tingle with the aftermath of battle. In my arms I carry my conscious, it lies limp with almost no sign of life. The faint sound of shallow breathing fills my ears, drowning out every other sound. My legs blaze my path to the destination of healing springs. The back of my mind pulls me back to a time that never existed.

Iím standing in a clearing of tall grass; it is the middle of the day. The breeze sweeps through the clearing, causing the grass to sway back and forth, like waves rolling across the ocean. From the vast sea of grass, a patch lies flat. That is where she is, sitting admiring the day, taking in all the beauty she can hold. I walk up behind her and look down over her shoulder. She is leaning back on her elbows, with her head tilted up toward the sun. Her eyes are closed and a smile as bright as the day beams across her face. I crouch down behind her and wrap my arms around her. I pull my face close to the nape of her neck; she takes in a sharp breath.

I stop short of my next step. The form contorts in my arms, her face winces in pain. The night breeze pushes me from behind, urging me to move forward. My heart stops for a moment, and then I realize she is still breathing. I quicken my pace, time is running out and I can feel her slipping through my fingers. My pace turns in a run. The springs are not far, but my mind is.

The sun gradually makes itsí appearance over the horizon. Itsí rays glisten across the dew touched grass. Iím feeling a little guilty; I should be up stretching my body. My conscious tells me to get up, but my heart says stay. She is draped across me like my favorite blanket. She has a faint scent of strawberries and honey that linger around her like little fairies. Her scent teases my senses into a false since of security. My hand runs down the length of her body, her skin is smooth and flawless, it feels so warm and good under my hand. A dull ache reaches my chest, my heart strains to keep my soul from pouring out my love. Slowly I realize that I am holding her tight to me. Her arms stretch out above her head and loosely wrap around my neck. Her sleeping breath touches the hairs on my neck, sending a shiver down my body. In an instant I am standing, my head is clouded with so many thoughts and images.

She stares up at me, eyes wide with a questioning look. The question almost reaches her lips, but I stop it short by pressing my finger against them. I shake my head from side to side ("Donít ask"). As I hold her in the water, an understood hush falls between us. Her body starts to regain itsí warmth. She is no longer placid and limp. My heart calms as the threat passes by. I relax as the scent of blood is replaced with strawberries and honey. I sit in the water with her cradled in my arms. My whole body wants to fall to pieces at this point, and she can sense it. She grabs my hand and squeezes it into her palm. She holds it to her chest. She drapes her other arm around my neck and pulls herself up. We are face to face; she leans forward and lightly kisses my lips. I gasp in a breath, amazed by the tingle of our lips touching. I stare at her, eyes wide with a questioning look. The question almost reaches my lips, but she stops it short by pressing her lips against mine again. She shakes her head from side to side ("Donít ask").

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