It’s QueerBlogWed! Time for Christopher to continue exploring his new existence in ‘Waiting for Rebirth’. This ongoing story is a prelude to my ‘Tales of the Navel/The Shadow Forest’ series. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday, a little more of Christopher’s story is posted. He’ll pick up, right where he left off on Monday after glancing up at the hill…only to sense an unseen presence.
I stopped in the garden to breathe in the ghosts of my own entrance into this time and place. The air was fragrant with the sweet scent of roses. I could wander among them, if I kept my distance. The flowers trembled on the vines, but they didn’t wither. I regarded with especial tenderness the purple red blooms. The ones the color of Damian’s eyes.
“I’ll give you the chance to bloom,” I murmured. “I won’t ever let you wither.”
How many mornings passed with myself wandering in that garden? I found myself looking for certain paths. A presence lingered here, watchful, wary, yet innocent in its wide eyed curiousity. Sometimes I felt like I was standing in a pair of battered boots, feelings the presence congeal around my current form. I welcomed it, but it always fled, scampering back to whatever time and place it belonged.
