Introducing Valjeanne Jeffers as “The Teller” – Episode 8-

SOAP OPERA SCI-FI, LOVE, MURDER AND LUST - Earth Moon Colony One – For Adults # 8 by K. Leslie Graves

Last Time:

Stephanie was a young girl who had come to know Naija, while she interned at Naija’s Angel Marked Foundation.  The sleep studies at the Foundation were largely ignored now, but the memories of a hot night Naija recalled from the intern’s experiences, played in Naija’s head.  Once Lilith had someone, she absorbed all of their sexual memories.  And so it was that Naija, Lilith’s host, could recall Stephanie and her lovers. 

   After a couple of weeks of shared living, Brooklyn noticed subtle changes in Stephanie.  Brooklyn was not quite sure, but she noticed she felt increasingly seduced by Stephanie during their chance encounters at the apartment. 

   Stephanie looked stronger, her complexion appeared more flushed, and she looked like she had increased her muscle tone in a remarkably short amount of time. 

   “Have you been working out Stephanie?” Brooklyn asked curious about the changes she saw.

   “No, I haven’t,” said Stephanie almost surprised at the question. 

   “Oh so you have boyfriend?”

   “No, you know I don’t Brooklyn why all the questions?

   “Oh, I was just curious.”

   One night Brooklyn came home and heard loud moans coming from Stephanie’s room.  The bed was hitting the wall and Brooklyn felt uncomfortably aroused as she closed her bedroom door in an effort to separate herself from the sounds and the feeling.  A relatively modest woman, Brooklyn felt as if she was intruding on Stephanie, although it was Brooklyn’s home as well.  Stephanie wailed and made sounds as if she had climaxed over and over.  The sounds and the overwhelming feeling pervaded the apartment for about two hours. 

   Brooklyn successfully fought the urge to listen at Stephanie’s bedroom door but was unable to escape feeling aroused herself as it had been some time since she was in a relationship.  Brooklyn gave in as she lied on her bed, touching her breasts and feeling her nipples that had become hard.  She felt moist between her legs and spread them slightly as if to yield to the feeling that surrounded her.  She moved one hand down to her pubic mound touching her slightly engorged clit as the other massaged her breast.  Brooklyn turned on her belly and continued to play with her clit while pinching a nipple. 

   Brooklyn had never had a sexual experience with a woman but she found herself fantasizing a woman climbing on top of her from the back, massaging her thighs and licking her from the rear.  Brooklyn found herself pressing on the bed as her finger moved in and out of her wet cavern and she pressed on her clit with her palm.  As the imaginary tongue serviced Brooklyn from the rear she found herself moaning similar to the moans that came from her roommate.  She licked her dry lips moistening them as she was overcome and climaxed, falling into a deep sleep.  

   The next morning, Brooklyn was drinking coffee in the kitchen as Stephanie emerged from her room and entered the kitchen to make a cup of tea.  She sat down to join Brooklyn at the table. 

   “Good morning Brook.”

   “Good morning Stephanie.”

   “Stephanie, I have been wondering just what kind of work you do at the Foundation.”

   “Well it’s kind of complicated to explain, but I assist in the sleep study project.  “When I go there days, I gather data and help analyze it.  When I go nights, I participate as a sleep study client myself.”

   “Oh,” said Brooklyn.  “It sounds pretty interesting.”

   “It is.  I have never felt so drawn to something in my life.”

   “What do you mean?” said Brooklyn.

   “Well I think the Foundation and its’ work is pretty amazing.”

   “Plus I have been feeling really different lately.  You said it yourself the other day.”

   “Well you got pretty pissed off at me,” said Brooklyn hoping for more information.

   “At the time I was, but then I thought about it and I have to admit I have been changing and I like the changes.”  

   Brooklyn had been right about Stephanie.  Stephanie had become more attractive and had become more lustful than before she joined the Foundation. 

   “You’ve been looking kind of hot lately,” Brooklyn said.

   “I’m glad you think so,” Stephanie said winking as Brooklyn blushed feeling momentarily uncomfortable.

   “I got to go,” Stephanie said finishing the last of her tea, kissing Brook on the cheek, and running back to her room to dress.

   After ten minutes, Stephanie came out of her room waving goodbye to Brooklyn, smiling as she left the apartment.  

   Brooklyn continued to sit there, stunned wondering what just happened.  Was Stephanie coming onto her?  Brooklyn thought for a few more moments asking the question in her mind, do I like it?  Brooklyn shook her head in confusion and got dressed before leaving the apartment for tennis practice.  

   When Brooklyn came home late that night she was tired from both tennis practice and from doing research at the student crime think tank.  It had been an odd day, first with her experience this morning with Stephanie and then later that day when Peter had done some things Brooklyn felt was his flirting with her. 

   Peter had finally noticed that Brooklyn was a woman and could not keep his eyes off her.  Rachel had noticed Peter’s looking at Brooklyn and began to show her jealousy and her disapproval.  It was the first uncomfortable day in the unit but not the last. 

   Brooklyn had taken off her clothing in her room and she headed into the shower.  She had the door slightly open and did not notice that Stephanie was home.   As she turned off the water to her shower, she came out and reached for a towel to dry herself.  She heard the too familiar sounds from Stephanie’s room and headed for the sanctity of her room, but again leaving the door slightly open.  As she dried herself off, the sounds continued as Brooklyn sat on her bed.  She dried off her thigh, her calf and then brought the towel to the other leg.   

   She stood up to dry herself her back and felt increasingly aroused as the sounds from Stephanie’s room grew louder.  Oh my God, Brooklyn thought.  What is happening to me?

   She spread the covers on her bed before lying down on her back.  She dimmed the lights from her bedside control, was naked, and felt hot.  She closed her eyes and her hand fell to her now wet cavern.  She fingered herself as Stephanie’s sounds lessened but it was too late.  Her eyes still closed she massaged her breasts and then resumed fingering herself unaware of the intruder. 

   Stephanie was in a trance and had emerged from her room to see the slight opening in Brooklyn’s door.  The apartment lights were dark except for the dimmed lights that came from Brooklyn’s room. 

   Stephanie observed as Brooklyn touched herself and her last bit of self control left as she came to the crack in Brooklyn’s door opening it as Brooklyn’s eyes met hers. 

   “It’s OK Brook” whispered Stephanie who reached for Brooklyn’s outstretched hand.  Touching Brooklyn’s hand Stephanie sat on the side of the bed and brought Brooklyn’s hand to her breast.  Brooklyn rubbed Stephanie’s hardened nipple.  Stephanie lied down on top if Brooklyn and kissed her inserting her tongue into slightly opened Brooklyn’s mouth.  Brooklyn gently sucked the tongue of her first female lover as Stephanie’s hands rubbed Brooklyn’s thighs. 

   The soothing caresses of Stephanie’s hands on her thighs and the feeling of Stephanie’s tongue in her mouth was too much for Brooklyn and Stephanie heard the first sigh from Brooklyn encouraging Stephanie to go further.   Brooklyn felt wet as Stephanie pressed her clit onto Brooklyn’s and the two grind themselves for a few moments before Stephanie went down on her.  Brooklyn felt Stephanie hot mouth on her and spread her muscular thighs to give Stephanie access. 

   Stephanie licked up and down slowly as Brooklyn’s moisture gushed forward to meet Stephanie’s grateful mouth.  Stephanie’s mouth found Brooklyn’s clit and she suckled it with all the passion of a long awaited lover. 

   Brooklyn’s mouth ran cold as she began to climax for the first time and Stephanie climbed on top of her to ride it to its full intensity.  Brooklyn kissed and then sucked Stephanie’s neck which made Stephanie sigh and she pushed harder onto to Brooklyn as their clits met in rhythm. 

   Both women were set aflame now and both came together again for Brooklyn’s second time.  Stephanie switched places with Brooklyn and rubbed her hands over Brooklyn’s back as Brooklyn lay on top of her.  Brooklyn kissed Stephanie’s mouth licking her lips as Stephanie opened to receive Brooklyn’s eager tongue.   Stephanie continued by pressing her hands into Brooklyn’s back pulling Brooklyn toward her producing a massage effect on Brooklyn.  Brooklyn had never been so aroused and felt warm, secure and comfortable with Stephanie as the two kissed, rubbed and came together a third time before falling asleep. 

   In the morning, Brooklyn woke up as thoughts of the night before came to her.  She opened her eyes and found that Stephanie was not there.  Brooklyn had no regrets but continued to feel confused about the whole thing.  As she came out of her room and headed for the kitchen, Stephanie came through the front door of the apartment. 

   Stephanie came in holding a bag of groceries and her eyes met Brooklyn’s as she came into the kitchen. 

   “Stephanie, about last night…” Brooklyn stumbled for the words when to her surprise Stephanie said.

   “What are you talking about?” 

   “What do you mean, what am I talking about?”

   “Last night, you came into my room.”

   “Brooklyn, I don’t remember.”

-----------------------------------------

And now, back to our story:

Introducing –“The Teller”

Despite the regular communication disruptions from the solar flares, spaceships continued to arrive at the twin space station.  With the mining escalating on Earth Moon Colony One there was money to be made.  The free miners mixed regularly with the early release prisoners who were distinguished by both their attire and by the ankle bracelets they were required to wear. 

   There was no real fear that early release miners would escape, because if they tried to hide on board an earth bound ship they would be detected.  Life on the Moon’s surface and in the mines was harsh.  In contrast to all this, the Twin Space Station Free Zone was a virtual paradise.  Because of the planned lack of Government regulation there, not only was there plenty of free enterprise money to fund the Earth Moon Colony operations and the Twin Space Stations, but there was plenty of money for the vices mankind had come to depend on since his inception. 

   Besides the hordes of free miners and the early release prisoner workers, there was a sleuth of military troops and government officials.  The number of “hollies” or people on holiday at the Free Zone outnumbered all of the others.  Free enterprise had already succeeded, even before the Earth Moon Colony One was completed, to build an entirely new world on the combination of Space Stations.  What was the cost?  While the funds from the Free Zone funded everything, the Twin Space Stations appeared to operate at cross purposes.  Each worked, insidiously to undermine the other.  

   Gambling was non-stop.   The drug dens operated freely.  The mixed martial arts games were deadly and the sex trade was in full force, and taken to an all new level.

   Except for the “squares” on the command space station operated by Naija, Dr. Snipes and their crew, it was said that on Earth Moon Colony One, everyone was always a little highand everyone was a little horny.  The appetites of anyone could be fed there, readily, so there was no overwhelming desire to leave, in fact, it was just the opposite. 

   All visitors to the Twin Space Station had one thing in common.  They had to exchange their currency for “Free Zone Currency.” In order to do that, they had to meet “The Teller,” Valjeanne Jeffers.  While most of the staff at the Twin Space Station knew her background, the majority of the visitors did not.  They simply looked upon her as an old woman given to philosophical and at time whimsical expressions.  She could spend as little time with you as it took to exchange your currency or if you were willing to hang around, she could spend hours talking with you.  Her small pavilion was “a portal of sorts” that could either be just a hallway, a means to an end, or it could be life changing.  Some spent time with her, and decided to take the next space ship home.  Others looked brazenly past her words and proceeded to their doom.  People referred to her, as “The Teller” but she was that and so much more.  Naija, Dr. Snipes and his crew regarded her as “The Oracle,” a seer and a healer. 

   And so it was, that thousands had come to the Twin Space Station many of whom, should have just "gone back home." Others were on their way to "self discovery." As "The Teller," she had a knack for knowing which is which, and if the person was ready to hear the truth, she shared it with them.

Be sure to watch for Episode Nine in our Serial

Immortal 2: The Time of Legend

at Amazon

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1/ SPECTAR

SHE was in the basement again. It was pitch black, the only

illumination a glowing, quarter moon etched into the floor. A burst of

light split the darkness, and she moaned low in her throat.

Please, I don’t want to see anymore…I don’t want to look.

Yet her feet moved of their own volition, inching toward the

mark…and the twisted bundle now lying in its center. A man was curled

upon the stone. He wasn’t breathing, and his limbs were tiny and

withered. But she knew he wasn’t dead.

He wasn’t human.

The daemon opened his eyes. I’ve been sleeping. But for how long? He

could feel his arms and legs, but the sensations were muted as if they’d

traveled from a great distance.

Then he remembered. He’d been imprisoned – snatched from his

body by the magic that had trapped him here. Even now sleep, like a

delicious drug, threatened to overtake him. But he fought it away.

How many centuries would pass while he slept?

A doorway appeared in his mind and just beyond it, a tattered

clump of flesh and bone…

Karla’s eyes flew open – the scream caught in her throat. It’s just a

nightmare. I’m Ok. I’m here now, at home.

The Indigo woman turned her head to look at the bedroom

console. Six-thirty glowed on the screen. She scooted out of bed, picked

up a remote from the nightstand and turned off the alarm.

Karla walked across the wooden floor of her living area into a

kitchenette. A press of her fingers on the first sphere of a triangular pod

started coffee brewing.

She filled a cup with chicory, walked back into the living area and

pushed the second button on her remote, activating a blue panel beside

the window. Jazz music filled the apartment. Like her bedroom console

the unit kept time, transmitted holographic images and played tapes.

Using the third button, she opened the curtains.

Curled upon her futon, the Indigo woman watched as the

illuminae changed Topaz’s violet sky into a mellow shade of peach. She

thought of the dreams.

For as far back as Karla could remember, she’d had them.

Otherworldly, exquisite and always with an unsettling clarity so different

from the normal phantasms she read about. When I eat, I wake up full –

and stay that way until lunchtime. If somebody hits me, it hurts like hell…

And her dream lover left her limp with satisfaction, even after she

awoke, sure he was still beside her.

22

At night Karla wrote them down, pouring all of her fears and

desires into the notebooks. She spent hours in the library, reading stories

of reincarnation and demonic possession, searching for answers. She’d

found them too – dozens of them. But none could satisfy the yearning

that burned inside her.

Every time she closed her eyes to sleep they beckoned, calling to

her. Mornings, she awoke like a swimmer who’d been underwater for too

long, grasping for the fabric of reality – moaning with pleasure or

trembling with exhilaration.

One night they’re going to swallow me whole. I’ll never wake up or maybe I’ll

just fall through to whatever’s on the other side…and this new one, something’s

different about it. I know the others but this one – this one scares me so bad I’m

afraid to sleep.

“What time is it?”

The top left knob of her console blinked. “The time is 7:00 am,” a

pert, female voice replied.

Seven o’clock! I’d better hustle! Karla gulped down her coffee, and

hurried back into the bedroom to dress.

Tehotep watched the tall, slender woman thumb through her

closet. He wasn’t invisible, only dim. As long as he stayed in the shadows,

she couldn’t see him. But noise couldn’t be cloaked by magic.

The Indigo woman tossed a red knit, shirt and jeans on the bed,

slipped off her pajamas and walked into the bathroom. As she stepped

into the shower, the nozzle automatically clicked on, spraying her body

with water. He followed, standing just beyond the doorway …

Karla finished bathing, and Tehotep quickly moved back into the

shadows – all the while devouring her with his eyes. Her skin, dewy with

moisture, looked like melting chocolate her nipples, blackberries.

She toweled off her full breasts and long legs and he licked his

lips imagining the things he would do with her – to her – the endless

perversions he’d force her to submit to. Things she’d come to enjoy,

when she tried to please him.

The young woman walked into the bedroom. He watched her

pull up her panties, hook her bra, slip her arms into the straps. Image

after image flooded his mind. Tehotep felt himself harden; a soft groan

escaped his lips…

Karla froze then stared into the corner facing her bed. It’s only a

bunch of dirty clothes, you’re hearing things!

In that instant he appeared: an Indigo man with full lips, slanting

onyx eyes and a shaven head. Voluminous garments hung from his

muscular frame. Their eyes locked, and she gasped in recognition. The

dark man smiled, nodded his head…

And vanished.

Karla gazed at the pile of laundry – all that remained of him –

and wondered if she’d lost her mind. With trembling hands she finished

23

dressing her thoughts scurrying about like rats in a maze. It’s him! I didn’t

imagine it! He was here, but that’s impossible –!

There was a knock at the door and she jumped. Get it together girl,

that’s the twins.

She walked into the living room, picked up her remote and

pointed it at the entrance. It slid open and the eight-year-old twins,

Carlos Jr. and Ashley, small and brown like their mother, ran inside.

Ashley’s shoulder length braids were tied off with ribbons.

“Good morning Karla,” they sang in unison, hugging her.

“Good morning love bugs. What do you want for breakfast?”

”Waffles,” said Ashley.

Carlos Jr. flapped his hand at his sister. “You always want waffles.

Make mine French toast.”

When Karla and the twins’ mother had first become friends,

Tatiana and Carlos were both working nights, and she’d offered to make

breakfast for their children during the week. That was two years ago.

Now Tatiana worked as a beautician, although her mate still

worked evening shifts at the metal emporium. But fixing meals for the

twins had become a habit Karla didn’t want to break. She was crazy

about them, and Topaz’s food prices were next to nothing.

“Coming right up.” The dark woman took milk and breakfast

pellets from her cold box, and slid the nuggets into a diamond shaped

oven. In twenty seconds, they expanded with heat.

“Done,” the oven announced. The children sat at the table, just

outside the kitchenette. Karla served them, walked into the living area

and took a cipher from the box on the coffee table. She lit it and puffed

nervously; with the other hand combing her fingers through her short,

wavy hair.

“Smoking is stinky,” Ashley pronounced her mouth full of

waffles.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” How did he get in my apartment?

Piss on that! How did he get out?

“Mommy’s mad at Daddy ‘cause he ain’t been home in two days!”

Carlos Jr. announced, snapping her back to the present.

“Hasn’t, not ain’t and your mother probably wants to tell me

about it herself,” Karla scolded gently.

“Yeah,” piped Ashley, “don’t tell family business.” There was a

knock at the door, she opened it and Tatiana strolled in: an Indigo

woman with her hair coiled into tiny braids.

“Hey girl.” Tatiana greeted her.

“Hey yourself, want some coffee?”

“Definitely,” the petite woman flopped on the couch, “Kids

hurry up; the transport unit will be here in minute.”

After the twins left for school, the women sat on Karla’s futon

drinking coffee.

24

“Carlos hasn’t been home in two days.”

“Your son already told me.” Karla eyed her friend with concern.

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know.”

“You said the next time he pulled this shit, you were gonna put

him out.”

Tatiana stared into her cup. “When he comes back, I’ll talk to

him –really talk to him,” she mumbled. “He‘s got to get it together, or

find someplace else to stay.”

“Yeah, you said that last time too.”

“Karla he’s a good man and he loves me, he’s just got issues! His

daddy used to beat him up. Carlos gets depressed when he thinks about

it so he smokes rush. He doesn’t do it every day – ”

The dark woman gritted her teeth. “Ti, I don’t wanna hear that

shit! He’s a junkie – if he was serious about dealing with his addiction,

he’d check into a clinic!”

Tatiana’s small, oval face narrowed with anger. “I’m not one of

your residents so don’t preach to me, Ok? It’s my life and my man!”

“I’m not trying to preach,” Karla said softly. She touched her

friend’s hand. “It’s just that you deserve better – better than him. You

need a man that’s gonna be there for you all the time. Not somebody

who keeps giving you love, and taking it back.”

“Look, I know what you’re saying, up here,” Tatiana tapped the

side of her head with her fingertip, “but relationships aren’t simple,

they’re tangled like vines. You don’t make up your mind to leave

someone you love just like that.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

“You ever been in love?”

“Uh-huh, I have.”

“Really, with who? I mean, I’ve never seen you with anybody for

more than a few months.”

“With – ” a brown face appeared in her mind’s eye. Loved.

Cherished. But Karla had never met him – not while she was awake. She

looked sheepish. “It’s been a while.”

The Indigo woman furrowed her brow. “So long ago you don’t

remember his name? Then you weren’t in love.”

Karla avoided Tatiana’s searching eyes. “I don’t wanna talk about

him,” she fumbled for the words to stop her friend’s questions, “it’s too

painful.”

“Oh, it’s like that huh? I understand…Karla, he took my ID

card.”

“Damn! How’re you going to make through the week?”

The petite woman shrugged. “I’ll figure something out.” She set

her cup on the table. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“You need some credits?”

“Probably…I’ll let you know. You better get going.”

25

Karla activated the door lock then watched Tatiana slowly climb

the steps to her flat. How could Carlos do this to her again?

The elderly woman held the curtain back from her window. She

was short with large eyes, a wide nose and full lips a shade lighter than

her ebony skin. Her thick salt and pepper hair was twisted into two

braids atop her head. Her calico spotted cat, Nutmeg, rubbed against her

legs, meowing plaintively, but she ignored him.

Opal watched the tall, Indigo woman descend the stairs and cross

the street. Once Karla was out of sight, she opened the door, walked

down the hallway to the back exit and followed the brick path into her

garden.

There was a pecan and cherry tree, a profusion of roses, lilacs and

daises, and the bees were having their breakfast. The garden square was

hemmed in by apartment buildings and faced a tool shed.

She continued down the end of the path to the shed. This time

Nutmeg didn’t follow and he’d ceased to beg for attention. Instead, he

sat solemnly on his haunches and watched her pick up a can of oil, and a

rag from beside the doorway.

Opal oiled the door hinges and wiped away the excess. She

squirted more oil on the cloth and rubbed it into the door.

Anyone observing this ritual would see an elderly woman

polishing a tool shed. If they looked more closely, they’d notice her

whispering to herself and think she was senile. And that was just fine

with her.

The old woman stepped back: admiring her handiwork. She

strolled up the little path, and took a seat in one of the cushioned lawn

chairs beneath her trees. Nutmeg stopped harassing the bees, bounded

over and wound himself around her legs.

Opal reached down and stroked his back. The illuminae was

beautiful today. Perhaps she’d linger a bit and enjoy it.

Dressed in breeches and sandals, Joie rode through the forest of his ancestors.

The illuminae filtered through the trees, sketching filigrees in the mulch below.

The warrior was tall, with reddish brown skin, almond eyes and high

cheekbones. Jet black hair hung loosely about his shoulders. Silver and turquoise rings

dangled from his ears and wrists.

Joie was half asleep, his muscular thighs loosely gripping the mare’s flanks,

for she knew the way to their favorite stream better than he did. They reached the

brook and he dismounted, kneeled and splashed water upon his face and neck, finally

cupping a pool in his hands to drink.

“Joseph…” He glanced around, instantly wary. The forest was teaming with

supernatural life – and not all of it friendly.

Among the most dangerous were Wood Sprites – forest succubae that took

the form of human women to capture men. Their victims slowly starved to death, losing

26

all grasp of time as they languished in their captor’s embrace.

A mahogany shaded woman emerged from the grove of trees to his right. She

had a wide nose, full lips and was dressed in a thigh length garment made entirely of

overlapping feathers. Her kinky hair was braided atop her head. Gold ornaments

hung from her ears, neck and arms.

She had the voluptuous body of a young girl. But her large dark eyes held

knowledge no girl could ever possess, and she had all the earmarks of a preternatural

creature – though friend or enemy, Joie couldn’t tell.

He decided not to stay and find out.

In one fluid motion the warrior rose and leaped on to his horse.

“Joseph wait!” She stepped forward and spread her hands, palms outward, as

a gesture of goodwill.

Despite the danger, he was curious. And she was lovely. “That’s close

enough!”

Joseph is not my name. Who is he? Your dead mate? Or perhaps a favored

slave?”

“I have a message for you…for who you will become leagues from this day.”

Her voice was soft and melodic – like a song.

Intrigued, Joie leaned towards her, a smile playing about his lips. “Speak

beautiful fortuneteller, if that’s what you are.”

“You are needed in Topaz.”

“Topaz? I have never heard of it.” Suddenly he couldn’t look away from her

strange eyes… or urge his horse to a gallop. She is bewitching me! With dawning

terror, Joie realized he might never leave the forest.

“The city does not exist here, in your time. But your future self knows it well,

and it is to him that I speak. You must journey to find your heart’s desire, Joseph to

find the one you long for.”

Now the enchantress‘s brows drew together in anger. Her voice doubled in

volume echoing through the woods. “I’ve visited you before! Why have you ignored my

commands? When you awake, remember my words and hark unto them! Go to

Topaz, we will speak again at that time.”

She turned and disappeared into the forest.

Centuries before the Time of Legend, Sorre’s Copper citizens had

been warriors and hunters. Now its inhabitants grew vegetables, and

herded sheep and goats; for Sorre was the chief supplier of crops and

animal proteins for the New World.

Joseph had lived here his entire life. His parents had taught him

to grow corn, beans and peas. He’d leaned to listen to the wind to predict

the weather, to put his ear to the soil to hear its heartbeat.

And he learned that all creatures have a soul, no less worthy of

respect than his own. These were the gifts Mata, his mother, and Lowe,

his father, had given him.

His grandfather had shared these values too and other gifts as

well – tales of long dead warriors and bloody battles; of evil magicians

27

and shape shifters; and of a war between good and evil that never really

ended.

Joseph stood on his porch for a moment, enjoying the illuminae’s

first light. Then jumped down, and crossed the street to his grandfather’s

cabin. As he mounted the steps, an elderly man opened the door and

stepped out, his lined face breaking into a smile when he saw Joseph.

Ripple had an aquiline nose and coffee colored skin. Thick black

hair laced with gray was spread over his shoulders, and he wore a flannel

shirt, jeans and boots.

“Good morning, Joe.”

“Good morning, Grandfather.”

The old man sat in one of the two wooden chairs, and took a

pipe from the table beside him. “I knew you’d come to see me this

morning.”

Joseph sat down next to him. “How?”

“Because it’s almost time for you to make your journey.”

The young man slapped his thigh. “Damn, you’re amazing! How

do you always know what I’m thinking?”

Ripple chuckled. “An elder’s intuition. She came to see you

again?”

“Last night.”

“So what are you waiting for? Go to Topaz, find your destiny.”

Elbows resting on his knees, Joseph rubbed his hands together.

“Just like that huh?”

“Why not?”

“You don’t think its crazy for me to move halfway across the

New World, because of a dream?”

“I think you’d be crazy not to. I’d have left the first night she

visited me. Besides you were never meant to be a farmer. You hate it.”

The Copper youth laughed. “Yeah, I do hate farming. But what

about you, with all your stories of blood and magic. How can you settle

for,” he waved his hand, “this?”

“I’m an old man. I enjoy the illuminae setting in the evenings, the

fresh air; the peace and quiet. That is enough for me,” Ripple winked,

“that, and the frisky widow next door.”

For a while they sat in silence.

At length Joseph said: “I’ve got some credits saved. I guess I

could take my paintings – see if I can find a buyer. You’ll hold my land in

trust until I return?”

Ripple puffed serenely on his pipe. “Sure, I’ll take care of it but

you won’t come back…not as a farmer.”

Karla boarded the trolley and took a side seat. Leaning her head 

Like the sound of an African Congo her heart beats
through me seeking my love she wishes to capture

Her thick hair slightly brushes my face with scent of
untamed wild passion. Her delicate
brown skin feels of silk when I touch her with my
soothing hands as I stroke the nape of her neck
with tenderness and care

Her soul fights with courage
day by day to keep her head high.

Her actions speaks
louder than words to survive her wars

she stings with every
strike

using love as a weapon to conquer hate.

Copyright 2010 Quinton Veal all rights reserved

　

As i look into your dark brown eyes, the high intensity of the sun light illuminates through your bright colored summer dress shows your sexy silhouette body frame. How your breasts protrude in the shape like the ends of lemons. Your peach lips i crave to taste from end to end. As my tongue open your mouth as mine welcome yours in silent splendor.

soft as your thighs as when you taste the texture of my ripe banana to my kiwi fruit generates strong heat of passion hot enough to melt chocolate even on the coldest winter day. The reflection of our shadows moves with wild precision when scented candles release the aroma mixed with the sweet smell of musky frenzy bringing you to a loud cry of ecstasy.

　

　

Copyright 2010 Quinton Veal all rights reserved

With blood
beating at my temples
and horizons
beckoning for discovery
land, magical
strange
taboo
waited
for my pen

Miles and Coltrane's
nightingales
awoke to trill of moonbeams
and desire

Zora,
Langston and
Octavia whispered:
"We waiting on
on you,
you better create
worlds..."

That's I when I knew
it was time to speak
rivers-- funky motifs
rip a piece of
soulful sinew
Sweeten it
Season it
cry loud
my passion

And shards of gold flecked
violet spit the air
with sound and fury!
With laughter, love and
tears I touched my lips to them
breathed life into these spirits
freed them to walk across
the page

In that hour liberation found me
In that hour I embraced her
And gave voice to my writing hand

Copyright 2009 Valjeanne Jeffers
Published In Liberated Muse Vol I: How I Freed my Soul
all rights reserved

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