PASSION FOR TINION (WIP Novel 120,000 words)
© Cupideros, October 21, 2006
CHAPTER 40: THE TENTH POISON DOVE
© Cupideros, Saturday, May 16, 2009
TelGara stopped crying. She collected herself. So many things swirled in her brain. She wanted to grab the hourglass of time, flip it sideways. Call Timeout! Her red eyes ran out of tears. Her runny nose cried for her eyes. TelGara luckily had some tissue in her purse. She blew her knows and forced herself to walk to the trash can in the corner. How odd she thought. One never cries upward to the Abyss, Goddess, Gods and angels. One may cry to a peer. Mostly one cries at Satina, Demons and their own Shadow Self. Her, Shadow self, no doubt supported by the Abyss, and sabotaged her logical brain. Tried to push her into having RaydGalil’s babies. She sat down in her chair and rubbed its edges.
Madam Rose’s perfection fled away. She didn’t tell them about the Tenth Poison Dove. The man who truly loves you and is loyal. Fiercely loyal. The man whom you are loyal to and love. This Tenth Poison Dove, without fault, tricked by the Abyss or Satina or sinister people meant no harm. SILTH’s goal: send single military men on vacation in Sirap, Gian where single Quodarian women vacationed. SILTH may even know my father’s position. Oh how devious and sneaky. Then the young man on returning to Galan suffered a terrible choice: blackmailed or forced to join SILTH. If he refused, he go on SILTH’s watch list and experience invisible torture. SILTH’s reputation suggests this sneaky plan operated for at least two hundred years. Two hundred years ago Gian expanded Sirap, into a wide enough beach front; some other beach before then served as the SILTH mating trap to create and spawn SILTH spies.
She thought back to FROM ROMEO AND JULIETTE ON THE WALL. She laughed. She wrote the play for exactly that reason—as warning. Yet, she fell into her own genius. Poor RaydGalil. He didn’t stand a chance against her beauty, or her Moksha Slap. He’ll never let go of her now. She, too, became imprinted by the Moksha. How she wish she’d not given it. If she could forget RaydGalil ever existed. How traitorous she was to everyone for her uteri, for the Abyss.
Several options to resolve this matter existed: 1) Tell RaydGalil to forget her forever. His Moksha prevented this solution. 2) Announce to all Quo to ignore or say she doesn’t exist, if someone should defect and come searching for her. 3) Marry the man her father selected for her. Full fill her father’s Romeo and Juliette dream. No! 4) Dedicate herself to the OGR and forget all about RaydGalil. 5) Quit the OGR and simply serve in Quo, but she’d have to go back to the army though. Doing army duties for herself, for Quodarian Society, and not RaydGalil, felt right.
Why was this so difficult? Why did she let these tsunami emotions buffed her heart? She stopped looking down into the white desk, as if it was a crystal ball. She choose option number four. Goodbye my love RaydGalil. I’m truly sorry for delivering you the Moksha.
She straightens herself up and stared into the light bulbs. Her next step might be harder on her than on RaydGalil. Write him a letter. Have another Quodarian spy in Galan deliver it.
Dear Romeo, RaydGalil,
Love cannot conquer all, my Romeo. Our fate is our country’s war against one another. We pawns suffer most. We are grapes in the winepresses of war machines. Our blood means little to machinery. Machinery uses our blood up like it’s refreshing water. Forget you ran into me, RaydGalil. Forget our accidental meeting which I believe was a SILTH trap. Quo doesn’t believe in forcing people to join. If you want to write me back, please don’t. Each word here, on the page, bleeds from my heart. Make things easier on yourself and me, RaydGalil.
Platonic Love, TelGara-WaifTelGara didn’t like the tone of this letter. She composed another one on her UniViewer. The touch keys on zoom made writing on the device easy.
Dear RaydGalil,
Sometimes in life events overwhelm the individuals and reduce them to commonality. I am just a silly common girl. I thought I fell in love and delivered the Moksha. Forget my Moksha. Find some Galan woman and live a good life. Our relationship brings danger, hardship, and waste precious time. Time you might spend promoting your career in the army.
I shall devote myself to career work as well. I shall never go to Sirap, Gian again. Do not hope to meet me there, RaydGalil. I’ve thrown away all my romance novels. Burning them took too much time and ruin gave my clothes a smoky smell. *laughs *
In true friendship, TelGaraShe liked the tone, but the content felt like syrup poured over honey.
Dear RaydGalil,
Men don’t love. They don’t know how. While this is not your fault, you cannot help who you are. I am seeking a Quodarian man. For they are sensitive and malleable. They want to change and listen and understand their women. They listen to females, where Galan men find only irritation in our emotional speaking. You and I didn’t argue, but we’d argue. This is inevitable. Why walk down a path foreseen? No. RaydGalil, I want a Quodarian man to show me the marriage life bliss. I’m sorry we met. These things can’t be helped, can they? We are products of groupthink and our times.
TelGaraGood content, but tone seemed cold.
TelGara decided if she would send any of these letters. She scrolled backwards. She remembered what the OGR orientation paper had said female hierarchy. How are these letters building female hierarchy? They are shameful attempts at a girl building male hierarchy. Delete! Delete! Delete!
End Chapter 40.
Juliette: Romeo, Romeo! Do you think it might be true?
Romeo hopped up on the wall of Verona. The cliff expanding under his outstretched left hand. His Juliette following him, wavering, ready to catch him by his outstretched right hand. “That some sinister person planned our vacations, staged our meeting and falling in love, too.” He kept up his tight ropewalk along the wall. “You’re being paranoid, my Juliette.” He kept seesawing his arms and walking, one leg looping in front of the next.
Juliette following him: “Keeping us apart, draws us together.” She kept trailing Romeo. “Mending our hearts, irritating our families—Romeo!” He struggled and regained his footing.
Romeo: “And what would this person sinister gain from our families at war?” He turned and threw a kiss to his Juliette.
Juliette: “Anarchy, Chaos. Heartbreak, for starters, My Romeo.”
Romeo hopped down having transverse the entire forty feet of wall. “Our love shall triumph easily over each one and all.”
FROM ROMEO AND JULIETTE ON THE WALL. TelGara’s Revisionist Romeo and Juliette for Quodarian Public Television.
