How to Make Life: Teaser

            I resembled nothing more than the dead woman I was digging up.

            In the pools of rain that showed my reflection, I could tell that mud had snaked its way and stuck in an impossible death grip to every crevice of my body, turning my pale skin into an old, tired shade of brown. Sweat and rain had created lines that resembled wrinkles on my face, aging my body many years past just a simple, young man. My hair was disheveled, blowing in the unforgiving wind, and that, too, had been turned the color of the good mother. I was a creature molded out of the materials given by the earth, frightening and aloof, and maybe – I can’t believe I thought it - powerful and quite stunning as well.

I was a monster.

I was amazing.

Tanis gave me a quick glance as she put aside her shovel. Her appearance was a mirror to my own, but, oh, her motives were so different! She called something to me, muddy hands cupped to her lips, but the wind drowned his voice and hid the words. I shrugged an ambiguous reply, to which she shrugged and threw open the termite-infested, time-worn casket and revealed the world of the dead.

I stepped forward so that I could bend over and observe the body with ease. She was still wearing her burial clothes, a beautiful, velvet dress and stockings, and her voluminous hair fell in a curtain around her face. These factors veiled most of the decay that had taken place, but she was, no doubt, deceased with her bleached skin and a coating of what I was told was called “grave wax.” Other than a copious amount of mold leeching off of her delicate features, she appeared as gorgeous as she had probably ten years prior.

The smell that radiated off of her body was beyond strong even in the cleansing rain. The sickly-sweet odor of death enveloped the atmosphere of the graveyard, tainting the heartfelt flowers, sturdy gravestones, and, of course, the unfortunate souls witnessing this event. Her smell mingled with mine, and as I gazed into her lifeless eyes, I saw an echo of my own soul, parallel down to the last grain of mud stuck in our nails.

Both of us, at that moment, were dead.

            It was time to breathe life.

            Not looking at Tanis, who was standing close to my back, watching my movements over my shoulder, or Eve, who was looking at the spectacle from a distance far away, I took out a piece of paper and my pencil. I placed the ragged sheet on the palm of my left hand, and with a trembling right, I wrote a single word, a single, marvelous word.

            Live.

            It took a few moments in which the three of us stood as just lonely, lost creatures in the storm, but, finally, a loud groan emanated from the grave. No spark lit the woman’s eyes, no rouge returned to her blushing cheeks, but, all the same, she sat up like an unoiled machine and turned her head to face mine. Once-dead blue eyes met my own, and, amidst the hungry, devouring rain and the world,

she smiled.

Ah, yet another mirror!

I had raised the dead.

~~~~~~

Hello beautiful people! My name is Cecilia Rose, and this is a story I have been working on for over a year now. It still needs some work, so honest criticism is always appreciated. I just ask, if you read this, please leave a comment, and I will return the favor. Thank you for giving my story a chance!