For this one, we had to describe a lake as seen by a young man who has just committed murder...without actually mentioning the murder.
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The sun broke over the rim of the mountain, chasing away the frost that clung to the tall blades of grass and turning the water of the glassy lake dark red. Red like the soil and grass at my feet, the young man mused.
The water is calm...not a ripple or a pulse anywhere, so unlike the beating of my own heart. I feel as though I am being pursued by some wild beast. I wonder if I dipped my hands in those waters, those icy waters, if they would turn red for me...red and warm.
The young man moved to the edge of the lake, his footsteps leaving the cold grass crushed to the ground. He knelt on his haunches and dipped a hand in the freezing water.
So, it does turn red for me...but not warm. No, it will never turn warm for me. It is numbing my hand, stealing away my own warmth, turning it cold like my heart. Now the red is gone and the lake is turning golden...golden like the hilt of my dagger. I wonder how log it would take to die out there, in this lake. Would it take away this ache? No, the lake is much to beautiful to be stained with my sins...beautiful with its glassy surface, now starting to ripple a little, reflecting the sun and the dark firs at the edge. There, by the edge. It's a heron, getting breakfast. He wouldn't want to hunt here if the waters were defiled by my body. The little frogs in the thick, tan reeds and the scratchy horsetails are starting to wake up and talk. Are they talking about me? Do they know what I have done?
The young man stood up and walked slowly back to where he had been standing, then turned ot look back out across the lake to the rising sun.
The sun is climbing higher, throwing light on my sins and turning the lake deep blue. A fish just jumped...right over there, by the heron and the frogs. The ripples are spreading, growing larger, like a domino effect. In the sun's rays, I can see swarms of bugs, just above the surface of the water...another fish just jumped. Having a bit of breakfast, like the frogs and the heron...and here comes a eagle. The sun's rays are warming everything, bringing it back to life after a cold night of sleep. But not me. Nothing will take away the ice that is running in my veins, not even the healing rays of the sun? What is that?? Across the way. It looks like a pair of elk. I am standing so still they don't even realize I'm here. Their muzzles in the water are making more ripples and I can hear little sucking noises. A breeze is picking up now, pushing the water in waves against the pebbly shore, making a soft, whoosh, shoosh sound. It's a peaceful sound, the sound of the water moving, the gentle splashing of the fish and the elk, the frog noises and the little birds waking up to sing. A magical place, this lake, so easy to get lost in it and forget everything.
I wish I could forget everything...
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He's really a very poetic murderer...although he started to make me think of Vincent...with his ruining things with his sins blah blah blah.
-Kas
