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The Summoning

The Summoning

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Published by Jennifer Adele
An Experiential Short Story.
An Experiential Short Story.

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Published by: Jennifer Adele on Jan 25, 2013
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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THE SUMMONING  An Experiential Short Story By Jennifer Adele
This story is written with great thanksgiving for all the paths that have not been taken, all the desires hoped for that were not received, and all the times that things could have gone tragically wrong but did not happen to do so.
 2 She lit her candles with great reverence and trepidation, bringing forth into existence pinpricks of light to send the shadows skittering into the far corners of her room. The light scurried to make a dent in the overwhelming dark, but all it could ultimately manage was a portal for vision into darkened things. Trina knew what was at stake, but her longing far outweighed the consequences. After all, what was the point of going on in her existence as it had been, without him? She had spent the first couple of decades of her life without him, without the man that could set forth a blaze in her like no other, a man who could make her come undone by the mere whisper of his name through the corridors of her sickened mind and now blackened heart. She had spent years not even knowing he truly existed only to be catapulted into an awareness and then knowing of him without ever being able to bring to fruition the love that she felt 
. He’
d already found another lover
by the time they’d
met, a soft slip of a woman, an elf-like creature. And, Trina had spent the last nine years watching that relationship weave itself tighter and tighter so that no room for anyone else existed between the two of them. Trina had tried her womanly wiles. She had done her best to entice physically, seduce mentally and emotionally, and had at long last succumbed to using her more ethereal talents to try to shake loose the bonds that tied her romantic interest to another partner. But, the bond they had for one another could not be shaken. There was nothing in this life that could force the man she had designs on away from his bride. But, fortunately there were measures to be tried after Death had held its sway. Death brought with it the end of all ties and was without malice the great equalizer. It brought to a screeching halt all that had been built, just as screeching tires on wet pavement brought his life to a halt on the back of his treasured motorcycle. He had loved in his time. He had loved things other than her, and Trina would not be denied now, not this time, not now that Death had done her such a great service. What had been set forth in life no longer applied after the funerary rites were completed. The widow had wept and prayed and buried her spouse. She had shoved away what once was her other half and as the days passed, slowly and inexorably, the tenuous bond withered until it was practically no more. He had gone so cold in the ground that he was beyond a stone, and this was all happening as his widow had started to grow warm again with the first flush of new life. Winter was morphing into springtime, and as the dead materials became mulch for new life, it was a time of transition. Beings have to die for others to live. And sometimes, if one is very fortunate, if one knows the right paths, the best words, the correct herbs, and the appropriate timing, life can become a source of sustenance for the dead. Trina knew all this and more. So much had been passed down through her maternal line from generation to generation, and she was the most recent keeper of secrets. But, who would hold them after her?... There was no one left. The candles were lit, the
herbs were placed, the timing was right… all she had to do was speak the best words. All there was left to do was summon her heart’s
only desire back from beyond the grave so that he would love her as he had done no other before. His heart was opened now, cracked by the strain of Death and drained by the elements so that a vacancy waited to be filled or reformed. It was worth it,
 3 worth all of it, worth any price to be paid that she could put on it. Trina spoke with a wavering voice at first, dropping herbs into the flames as she went along. The dewdrops of her candle light trembled in response, as the darkness encroached and almost snuffed them out. She spoke the echo of her words louder a second time, more force coming up from inside the bellows of her lungs. The air vibrated with her intentions as the flames sought a new and shadowed life, eclipsed without going out or losing their vigor. The room smelled fragrant from the smudging smoke, the blaze of heady musk. And from somewhere inside her, she saw the hallowed ground that was a little less than a mile away. It began to quake. It cracked and creaked and gave out a mighty groan. As Trina sighed, it sighed and then belched up a cloud of dust into the night sky. Her lungs breathed for the ground as the ground then started to breathe for her lungs, and then they both breathed for him. It was a unifying force in tandem that told her there was no going back. His lungs had been still for so long. Sinewy tissues had started to turn to putrefying liquid and then to dingy dust. Now they
were being called back from an earth that didn’t want to give the
m nourishment. They were being brought f 
orth and would demand repayment…
 but that was for another time, another moment, a different but all too waiting and ready instant. Trina spoke the echo of her words a third and final time, decreeing to all that were sensitive enough to hear, to all that could help and aid in her quest, her very firm intention as fingers started to unearth themselves. They grasped and pulled to reveal hands and arms. A firm torso landed flat upon the moistened earth with a heavy smack, and then finally shaking legs clambered up and out of the traumatized ground, as her unwilling beloved was torn from the dirt and his eternal sleep. His stone slab of an effigy was smashed to bits by a falling tree, uprooted by sudden high winds and forces unseen. The winds whipped around outside her small house as he slowly but surely made his way down vacant streets under the cover of night, moving without knowing where he was headed. He still had to get there all the same; he had to get to her. The rustling of the strong breezes bid her speak his name, and she did so with baited breath.
“Russell,” she said and snuffed
out the center candle in her room, leaving only a small circle of light to beckon and beg. Her heart ached with the weight of a love that had been restrained for years upon years. Trina could feel him moving along the streets and the sidewalks, his pace quickening as stiff muscles became more pliable and the hardened dirt that stuck to his tattered clothes loosened and finally fell away. He was newly born again and in need of something to sustain him. He had cravings and she could hardly wait to satisfy them and sacrifice herself under their heavy weight. It would be a wholly different and swiftly born burden. She closed her eyes knowing that soon she would be in the throes of
everything she’
d ever wanted. She whispered his name again, giving it all the air she had in her
body, “Russell.”
 There were further preparations. She moved to put the herbs away and clear out the flame-lit area of her work space, her circle, her energy sphere. There would

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