A sequel to “The Jules Letters: The beginning”
“Winter tracks…” Cori Schlegel
Jules’ delicate bare feet whispered soft and quick over the hardwood floor. The frantic words, “There’s got to be a letter in here somewhere!” whirled within her as a mantra, over and over, accelerating with the hurrying of her unnerved step. A sense of herself cast about her interior looking, looking, like a desperate woman trapped alone in her house, climbing the stairs up and up only barely ahead of the methodical steps and slow breathing of a dark pursuer climbing up and up, crowding her with nowhere to go but up, up to cobwebs and creaking and the wind howling through chinks.
Jules heard a voice within, “Look forward, only look forward!”
“Liar!” cried Jules. Her constitution was frail and the strength of the darkness was undying and there was no choice but to stop the madness, the boundless haunting, to turn and face the black shape breathing behind her.
“Dear God preserve my soul,” Jules whispered as she stopped the motion of her feet, stopped and turned.
What she saw shocked her as much for what she failed to see as for what she saw, and she collapsed, crumpled to the floor as the darkness passed through her, sharp and cold. Her body so tiny, so pink on white like porcelain and seeming as fragile, lay motionless for a moment.
The steady breaths from her nostrils began to stir a reddish-brown wisp of hair that lay across her face, and in a reflex manner she moved a delicate hand to brush the bother of it away. The tickle, the movement, caused her eyelids to stir and open. Her grey-green eyes darted, questioning, and there on the ordinary flatness of the oak floor, she found her letter, jarred loose from her fall. From the edge of her brain to the tip of her tongue, her letter was ready to be set free, to float out on the air beneath the southern stars, and on up through the vastness of star systems and galaxies and the universe to reach its intended recipient.
Jules raised herself slowly and carefully and padded to her reading spot by the window. She raised the sash and leaned on the sill, and spoke this letter in words on the wind:
Dear Life,
I have felt and seen the end of you. Death’s biting cold darkness has washed over me and I understand that it is only the temperature of the blackness of outer space, desirable space, somewhere I’m not yet outfitted to go. And I saw the benignity of its face and understand it to be but the master guardian of my soul’s transition, the arms of sweet, black nothingness behind me to catch me when I fall back.
Prior to finding myself on the floor, I had a little dream. I had just seen that Death is not to be feared but that you are. I saw that you are the hard thing, the bearer of transient happiness and sadness, love and hate, beauty and ugliness, disease and good health. Death itself is easy, but the dying on the way is your domain and therefore can be happy or sad, dignified or pitiable, joyful or embittered, breezy or a slow sweat.
But when I awoke from the dream I knew the essence of you is no more to be feared than that of Death. If I didn’t consider one thing good and another thing bad, if I wasn’t invested one way or the other, there would be no problem. But I do, and I am, and until I don’t care one way or the other, I will have to suffer my opinions of the opposing forces.
So you and I are not done, but my future has been made one star brighter by one comfort gained for the loss of a fear.
Sincerely,
Jules
Fini
PHOTO CREDIT:
The lone star is from http://kinrowan.net/blog/wp/wp-content/uploads/2007/02/WindowsLiveWriter/WintertracksonaWisconsinwindow_88A5/star%20cropped%20and%20cleaned%202%5B9%5D.jpg
Missalister’s “The Jules Letters…” series, copyright © 2009, was spun off the Sunday Scribblings prompt “#154 – Dear Past Me, Dear Future Me.” Click here for more on prompt #154 from other Sunday Scribblings participants.
goodness, gracious, great balls of fiiiirrrre — you leave me – unh – breathlessssss!!! — this is right down my alley, but around the corner, because your words are far stronger and more descriptive than i can have mustered — i LOVE! the dark flavour of jules nocturnal correspondence — once again you leave me abso;utely blown away – what more can i say???
Dear Life!! Yes, living life (or not living it) can be a mighty fearful thing.
The Jules Letters are awesome Miss A! She just brings it all up in your face and then sends it off on the wind.
So many beautiful lines here… the writing is melodic.
I do love the end of her letter, “my future has been made one star brighter by one comfort gained for the loss of a fear.”
Can’t wait for the next.
The loss of one fear is worth at least one star bright. A lovely learning of the final lesson.
DANNI
I dunno, danni, I think you muster just fine. You had one heck of an idea this week, opened a big can of human-core worms, and you pulled it off splendidly with very strong, intelligent and entertaining writing. But who’s site is this anyway? So thank you, especially for loving “the dark flavour of Jules’ nocturnal correspondence” – sweet! : )
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PRESENT
It sure can! This life freaks me out. I look around and wonder what in heck I’m doing here on this strange planet crowded with egos and a mass of polarities. Feels like I got on the wrong plane and landed in Chicago, naked and pissed! LOL!
I’m glad you enjoy Jules’ way and liked this letter. And from you this time I got “melodic” to covet like The Precious : )
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TUMBLEWORDS
Amen, Sister! : )
this letter was great! it reminds me of this quote: i’ve always been afraid to die, but i think i’m more afraid to live.
Dear Jules: Glad you woke up on the right side of the red, and saw through the brouhaha. I’d say we ain’t got nuthin’ on that internal dictaphone of yours, as your commentators (is that anything like corn and taters?, asks Asleep at the Wheel) will abundantly attest. Got any Motown in that nickelodeon of yours? Marvin and Tammie Terrell, perhaps? Love and kisses: Life and Death
I loved the wisdom here, especially Death’s biting cold darkness has washed over me and I understand that it is only the temperature of the blackness of outer space, desirable space, somewhere I’m not yet outfitted to go. And I am becoming quite fond of Jules, your enigmatic, light-footed, auburn-haired creation; a fascinating character.
Thanks for the use (and credit) of my photo. It’s also on Flickr at http://www.flickr.com/photos/kinrowan2/383756923/.
I enjoyed reading this, as well…
FLORETA
Good quote! Sums it up for me, for sure!
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PASCHAL A.K.A. LIFE AND DEATH
You’re not fooling a soul, L&D! Ever’body knows you da coyote, we da chickens!
Now, about that Motown. I might could do you some Supremes, but that’s about it : )
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ANNO
I like Jules, too : ) She’s perhaps overly concerned about just the right treatment of those things that happen to settle upon her mind, but that’s part of her chiffon charm.
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CORI
I’m honored by your visit : ) And glad you didn’t mind the use of your photo!
*huge sigh*
QUIN
Yeah. Life. What to do…