“Marlene of the Stars” (Part 7 – A Soft-Comfort Song) WWP: Prompt #160 – Metamorphosis

Welcome to the Ruined City.

Where the watch never falters and the doors have no hinges.

As day breaks o’er its streets, forsaken cries lie in smothered dismay. Of a king, yet no Solomon, tried then and true as furnaces glow in the cold morning dew.

A doomed place for sure, a place no-one walks without dead-eyed countenance, a place no-one visits – alas, not even the birds sing true, no longer able to breathe or endure.

Marlene stands silent, holding hands, touching forbidden hope, trembling, but slightly, she won’t let them see that; as smile borders ecstasy, she holds her tongue entwined, as madness fingers decay in eyes that cannot hide the fear of faded, lost regret, nor batter dreams of solitude in stars, Marlene shuns hope’s illusion like some queen who never ruled, seeking refuge in a touch, thus seeking something more.

The stories of this room decry the fashion of the moment, the unassuming patriot lies frozen in the yard. The ever-flitting hummingbird lies motionless in thorn. Locusts schedule meetings, and black heart rules the day.

But it had not always been this way.

Once there were spring-wells of gilded distraction, artists and writers held court in the light, magic flew vibrant in silken-star night, supple transitions now lost in some breeze, sickened by torment of darkened disease.

But as day creeps its light into cried room and hovel, she closes this door singing soft-comfort song and sits in her chair as Franz sits beside her, and taking his hand, caresses his held black leather embossed in sickening twist of inverted cross.

“It will fit well enough, and we do have a tailor.”

“We must get them from here,” says Marlene. “Catastrophe beckons its scream.”

They sit in the dark, neither wanting to speak, as day gathers gloom and the wind moans the street.

“Tomorrow, we leave,” Marlene mutters at last, lying head on soft pillow as daylight retreats. “We have wasted this day.”

Border of depression, Marlene has come prepared, this lesson not unshared, in movement inspired by twilight relentless …

As the cat prowls cold the yearning garden, misplaced figurines lie hidden in grass’s trodden path unknown.

Welcome to the Ruined City.

Where the watch never falters and the doors have no hinges.


6 responses to ““Marlene of the Stars” (Part 7 – A Soft-Comfort Song) WWP: Prompt #160 – Metamorphosis

  1. Sadly there are places that had seen better days now abandoned. Obviously some attractions had given way to changes in style and decay set in! Great imagery Pemlita!


  2. You’re keeping us in suspense…and nicely done, I might add…what kind if escape awaits Marlene? Some deliciously beautiful prose again here.


  3. You are on quite a roll with Marlene. I like the unassuming patriot, and the locusts scheduling meetings–every seventeen years, perhaps? All very surreal.

  4. This felt like an old western movie, or song…maybe something like Hotel California, or one of the many ghost towns here in NV. I loved it and have to learn more about Marlene.

  5. It’s unravelling in some lush prose. Ruined city, ha!

  6. very nice pamela…you really set the scene nicely in this and build it over most of this section but know when to pull out and give us enough story to keep us coming back….nice prose…

I appreciate all comments.

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