For today’s SoCS post https://lindaghill.com/2022/11/04/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-5-2022/ Linda made it very difficult and exciting for me. Today’s prompt is “your favorite word”.
OMG! 😱I love words! So many that I love.
My good friend, Dan over at https://nofacilities.com/2022/11/05/the-signpost-up-ahead-socs/ stole my first favorite word today. Imagine…. It’s a good one and has long been my motto.
As the options skittered across my gray matter, I thought of the key words in my novel, Forever Never/Dawn of the Dream. Dream, love, hope, family. I wanted to leave an excerpt that conveys something important within the story. But what?
I opened the file and scrolled a bit. My eyes fell on the word promise. This is an enigmatic word to me. As humans we have grown to place a lot of weight on this word, as though it is magic, as though its utterance binds the speaker to a contractural agreement of never failing, never making an error and never letting the receiver down.
To me a promise made in earnest isn’t really about the outcome as much as the intent behind it. Most promises are made nobly and with love. It says the one giving it hopes not to let the receiver down and there is love in that.
So when someone makes us a promise, let’s try to accept it for the gift that it is. No contract, no fear of its being broken and no guilt if it is.
A promise figures prominently in my tale and here is just an excerpt of that pivotal moment for our young hero…
ForeverNever/Dawn of the Dream
Copyright Cheryl K Pennington 2022
“Stay here, no matter what you hear,” she insisted. “Keep your brother safe.” Amhain’s heart drummed. “Do you understand this?” she prodded, her dark eyes reaching into his soul. The boy nodded slowly as his trembling lips squeaked out the words she needed to hear. “I p… promise,” he whispered and sucked in a deep breath. She smiled, her eyes glistening in the shadows.
“And I promise I will come back for you. Don’t come out until I return. You must wait right here.” He nodded again but she knew her son was as fiercely independent as his father. “Promise me.” She squeezed his fingers.
“I promise, Mother,” his gentle voice assured. “We’ll be here waiting for you.” But hurry, his young heart pleaded, please hurry back.
She ran her fingers through his tangles and smiled wanly. “Your father’s hair, always such a mess. You’ll be safe here. This is the heart of Foirfeachta, protected by the Mothers. They are always with us, Amhain. Always.” M’na turned and disappeared through the opening. For a few moments all Amhain heard was the thrumming of his heart in his ears. His brother was sleeping, his face the perfect picture of peace. He was glad the infant didn’t know what was happening. Amhain cocked his head, listening to the voices. He was certain he heard his mother’s but who belonged to the other? He leaned forward trying to hear more but the sounds were muffled and he didn’t dare leave his hiding place. Maybe the other voice was his father’s. He stood up, ready to go to them, but her words held him back. He remembered his promise and crouched against the wall again, pulling the fur bundle close.
Time dragged on endlessly for the frightened child and the air inside the hollow grew heavy with choking fumes. Amhain pulled the fur over his brother’s face and drew him up, burying his own face in the soft comfort of the blanket. When would they come? There was so much screeching in the distance and he shuddered to think what could make such sounds.
Wait. Did he hear footsteps? Yes, yes there were definitely footsteps and they were approaching his hiding place. His need for emancipation overrode his sense of reason and his heart rejoiced, ‘They’re here at last! ‘ His hope was encouraged when he saw the long shadow appear outside the hole in his hiding place…
Happy weekend and sorry about DST up there. At least it’s ‘fall back’. ❤️