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Elizabeth

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by 

Swatilekha Roy

Genre: 

Paranormal

Short Description: 

I had waited my entire life for two things.
One. To paint a masterpiece.
Two. To fall in love.

71 voted

Ended

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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Swatilekha Roy

Bio: Swatilekha is fearfully fearless, except for when she has to confess love.

All DESCRIPTION DISCUSSIONS UPDATES

Author’s Pitch

Help this story become visualized!

~The Bird Woman~

The lady in blue blushes purple.
Something to do with my Navy uniform,
Strutting around here, in this sea of Art.
A series of throat clearing follows
In between curious glances exchanged;
A frenzy, as the tenderness of her hands brushes mine.
I rush to the adjacent corridor, away from her, embarrassed
Of this attention, ‘You have a fiancée!’
My conscience screams. To my relief,
She doesn’t follow, and the butterflies in my stomach
Stop fluttering, only to start again-
I hold my breath as my eyes blur with a dazzling red
From a painting in the obscure corner.
The redness of the ribbon adorning her burgundy hair;
The blood. The painted smile.
That exotic moment of vulnerability,
And distorted truth, captured by the expert brush stroke,
The reason why Art pulls me so.
A half morphed siren, feathers pushing out of her skin
Claws instead of nails, ripping the heart out
Of her mesmerized lover, rooted to the sand,
As he realizes, what he had taken to be a glimmer
Was actually insanity in her bird’s eyes?
In that moment, the sea looks tamer
Than this half mistress, and-
I gasp as a cold touch intrudes on my imagination-
It’s the lady, with eyes that hold promise
And silk like the velvet of the sea-
Deep. Deep.
The red grin wider than humanly possible, and,
Suddenly, my feet have left the gallery,
And touched soft sand, with the waves reflected in her eyes.
There is something else too,
The inevitable-
~The Bird Woman~

The lady in blue blushes purple.
Something to do with my Navy uniform,
Strutting around here, in this sea of Art.
A series of throat clearing follows
In between curious glances exchanged;
A frenzy, as the tenderness of her hands brushes mine.
I rush to the adjacent corridor, away from her, embarrassed
Of this attention, ‘You have a fiancée!’
My conscience screams. To my relief,
She doesn’t follow, and the butterflies in my stomach
Stop fluttering, only to start again-
I hold my breath as my eyes blur with a dazzling red
From a painting in the obscure corner.
The redness of the ribbon adorning her burgundy hair;
The blood. The painted smile.
That exotic moment of vulnerability,
And distorted truth, captured by the expert brush stroke,
The reason why Art pulls me so.
A half morphed siren, feathers pushing out of her skin
Claws instead of nails, ripping the heart out
Of her mesmerized lover, rooted to the sand,
As he realizes, what he had taken to be a glimmer
Was actually insanity in her bird’s eyes?
In that moment, the sea looks tamer
Than this half mistress, and-
I gasp as a cold touch intrudes on my imagination-
It’s the lady, with eyes that hold promise
And silk like the velvet of the sea-
Deep. Deep.
The red grin wider than humanly possible, and,
Suddenly, my feet have left the gallery,
And touched soft sand, with the waves reflected in her eyes.
There is something else too,
The inevitable-

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