Excerpt from "Calisces"
By Angelika Tyhansky, '22
Warm, familiar visions seep in. To the touch, they are as fine as silk, as smooth as velvet; their scents are rich like chai. But it is their colors that are most fascinating, the most solacing: mahogany, bright ginger, vermilion, all the way down to chartreuse, forest green, and translucent aquamarine.
Scenes unfold. A burst of maroon flowers until a Japanese maple leaf is visible, its five prongs swirling in spirals as it comes fluttering down an October breeze. The air smells of ripe Ambrosia apples and honey. Pale grass sails the wind’s waves all across the roaming hills, only making way for the stumbling foot of a child.
She hears the melodic voice of another. It comes from above, from one who is much taller, much wiser, much warmer.
A society of grass blades etches her calves and surrounds her entirely. Trees erupt from the ground and stretch to the edge of the sky. Clouds rule the world. From where she stands, a minuscule field mouse in a world of whales, everything has meaning, and nothing is insignificant.
The world was so big back then.
A large figure steps into view. His locks are just long enough to sway in sync with the wind as he spins on his heels and laughs. An even taller figure approaches him, then another. They are happy.
Then everything vanishes and it is cold.
“Calisces?”
She looks up. Julien is only an arm’s length away from her, yet she can’t make out his frowning lips, can’t tell his iris apart from his pupil. Everything is blurry and wet, she realizes, as a tear splashes on her leg.
Her voice is but a whisper. “I miss my parents.”
Scenes unfold. A burst of maroon flowers until a Japanese maple leaf is visible, its five prongs swirling in spirals as it comes fluttering down an October breeze. The air smells of ripe Ambrosia apples and honey. Pale grass sails the wind’s waves all across the roaming hills, only making way for the stumbling foot of a child.
She hears the melodic voice of another. It comes from above, from one who is much taller, much wiser, much warmer.
A society of grass blades etches her calves and surrounds her entirely. Trees erupt from the ground and stretch to the edge of the sky. Clouds rule the world. From where she stands, a minuscule field mouse in a world of whales, everything has meaning, and nothing is insignificant.
The world was so big back then.
A large figure steps into view. His locks are just long enough to sway in sync with the wind as he spins on his heels and laughs. An even taller figure approaches him, then another. They are happy.
Then everything vanishes and it is cold.
“Calisces?”
She looks up. Julien is only an arm’s length away from her, yet she can’t make out his frowning lips, can’t tell his iris apart from his pupil. Everything is blurry and wet, she realizes, as a tear splashes on her leg.
Her voice is but a whisper. “I miss my parents.”