The Day My Dream Died

54 - Empty Cusp

— 54 —

Empty Cusp

\//\\/

Bente shudders, plates of hardened clay grinding against one another until, at last, he topples, setting the thick sludge rippling around him. Half-submerged, he lay still.

Lise does not breathe for the stench of her burnt clothes—charred round the fringes of a gaping hole in her chest. Left bare her bleeding breast, she raises a tremulous hand. Her scars were split, shedding blue-black liquid, bubbling. It is an ugly sight but she thinks it is not mortal.

As she falls back, sinking into the muck, she watches his unmoving shell and knows a nostalgic odor. She can't escape the smell, even as she drifts into reverie.

—13 Days Ago—

She is miserable. "Momma, I won't!"

"You will, and you'll enjoy it. Now quit your complaining, you're setting a bad example for your sister." Her father answers.

"Momma!"

She turns to her husband, "Rese, let me talk with her a moment."

His thick brows draw together, shading his dark eyes as he looks over Lise. "Alright, but don't you give your mother any more grief."

She stays silent as he steps out, then turns to her mother. "I don't want to do it, momma. Can't I do something else?"

Her mother's gaze is patient as she kneels down before her, "I understand you don't like to dance, dear, but the solstice is not your time. It is time to allow others to pass on, and to celebrate them. If you don't want to do it next day, you don't have to, but you will dance today and tonight. Think of it as an opportunity to gain greater understanding and appreciation for the value of life."

Lise can't argue with her, no matter how she wishes she could. Feeling powerless, tears blear her vision. "I... I don't want to." She begins to cry.

"Oh, Lise..." Her mother pulls her into an embrace, and as she cries into her shoulder, speaks softly into her ear, "I promise, it won't be as bad as you think. It will take but a few minutes, then it's over. Alright?" She pauses, allowing Lise a moment to compose herself; then, squeezing her shoulders, adds, "Tell you what, if you can do the solstice dance I will make you a big plate of your favorite food later."

Lise continues to blubber on a moment longer, rubbing her eyes. "Really...?"

Her mother smiles and tugs the bead on one of her budding black locks. "Really. Spiced apples and barbecued spirkin with extra pepper—though, if you want anything else we'll have to check the pantry first."

"I don't have to share with Seli?"

"Not if you don't want to this time."

"Okay... I'll do it."

Lise stands beside her family, determined not to show a hint of pleasure. The dance is short, as they had practiced; terrible and uncomfortable, as she predicted.

Her father rests a hand on her head as he speaks to a man she recognizes from somewhere. The man expresses admiration for his daughters, and he accepts it with a grin and an affectionate squeeze of her shoulder. Lise has no patience for it so stands silent and unreceptive.