This week’s task: write a piece using a list of five nouns. These five nouns were randomly generated from the website Random Nouns and they inspired this story:
When I got to the cemetery it was raining. Hard. Of course I had forgotten my umbrella, so I pulled my coat tighter around me and dashed for it, trying to dodge raindrops without success. She stood on the green grass, head bowed, a clutch of stone violets in her arms. She looked pensive, but not sad.
I approached her carefully. The wizard had told me not to awaken her abruptly or she would not be able to speak. After the months it took me to learn her language, I didn’t want to lose my chance to learn her secret.
The first thing to do was take out the strange locket the wizard had given me. It had a runic design on it, which made it seem an odd item to give to an angel, but those were my instructions. After saying the quiet prayer I’d been given, I draped the fine chain over her head and draped the locket around her neck.
At first nothing happened. Then one of her eyes began to sparkle, like the glint of a raindrop on the stone. I thought I was imagining things at first. But as I waited, both eyes started to gleam, and I could tell she had awoken.
This was my chance. Taking a deep breath, trying not to seem anxious, I started my well-rehearsed speech. In her language, I said, “Angel of the glen, I have come to seek your counsel. In my hour of need, I ask your help.”
Into my brain – not aloud – I heard these words, “What is it you seek, oh mortal one?”
“I have but recently lost one of my own – my son. I would that I might speak with him again.”
“What is it you wish to tell him?” The words came into my brain again.
“I wish to tell him …” My voice faltered. What right did I have to ask this of an angel, an angel made of stone who guarded this section of the cemetery? Would it even work?
I decided to try. “I didn’t have a chance to tell him I loved him before he died. I want him to know I love him and that I will always love him.”
There was a long silence. The angel’s eyes seemed to dim, and I was afraid I had failed. Had I said the words correctly? Had I somehow made an error?
I shivered in the rain. It was all I could do to remain standing there, freezing in the winter afternoon, awaiting the angel’s response.
Then it came. “Go toward the cherry tree that stands near the entrance gate. Say your prayer there. He will speak to you.”
I could only thank the angel with a shaky voice, and I noticed her eyes had returned to their original stone appearance. I left the locket, as I had been instructed. When I reached the cherry tree, I stood under its branches and waited. It was still damp, but the rain had stopped.
I waited to hear my son’s voice.