Daelyn Morgana takes a fourth #SwiftFicFriday win!
Check out her story below and congratulate her on Twitter 🙂
“Do you ever get tired of it here?” Morticia looked over at the fellow spirit beside her. “Waiting, that is. Waiting for the time to move on.”
The spirit smiled and the wrinkles in her face folded over themselves. “Not really. It’s alright here.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I can’t say.”
“No, dear. I can’t.”
Morticia shifted her skirts about her ankles, turning to face the elderly woman. “Why not?”
The spirit didn’t answer her right away, however. Old eyes that could still see clear were fixated on the fields that spread out before them. Rolling hills of grass and wild flowers, dotted with patches of trees blooming with pomegranate fruit. The sun basked the Elysian Fields in utter beauty. Morticia looked out with her, watching the endless sea of waiting spirits mingling.
“You young ones are always so worried about time.”
The woman turned her head to Morticia. Wisdom had long since etched itself into every crinkle of skin. From the lines in her forehead to the crow’s feet beside her eyes. A soft breeze rustled the loose white strands falling out of the braid over her shoulder. “Always worried about time, you are. When you get to be my age you realize time is nothing more than another constraint. Just like money or social status or a woman’s place. One day you learn simply to stop and smell the daises.” She plucked one delicately from the grass and sniffed it. “When time is good and ready time will move along again.”
Her lips tugged down in a frown. “I’m afraid I won’t get to be your age for such wisdom.”
“Ahh. You wait and see, dear, you will. A crone knows.” She let the wind carry off the daisy. “A crone knows.”
Come back on Friday for the next prompt!