Athaliah in Time


Athaliah in Time

 

Chapter 1

 

My queen of Judah is without me. She’s phased into some temporal past that runs her down like a black leopard on an eland.

Because of her talents with time she has to pay a price. Nothing comes for free. And so it is with tricking time like she does. She slipped from me as we were going into a restaurant. She just sublimes into a purple mist that only I can see. I watch her fade into time’s clutches with her sapphire eyes pleading to stay with me. The fear, the agony, in those gorgeous orbs haunts me until she reappears. Those beautiful pools of her soul smiling and brimming with new energy as I see her reappear from some time immemorial.

   Once she returned to me with her garments torn and some strange plants that had become embedded upon her torn jeans. The plants appeared to be prehistoric in origin, the genus unknown to modern humans. She had this terrified look in her eyes. She grabbed me in the middle of the night when she reappeared in the middle of my living room. Zephyr started growling and the room began glowing with a purple light, and fiery blue and white discharges danced from the ceiling down to the floor. One would think I would have become accustomed to this entrance of hers happening three to four times every year since she’s made her decision to live in a new era with me.

   I came into the living room with my robe on and she arises from a kneeling position and runs into my arms. She’s crying, and shaking and the tears are running out of those jeweled eyes. This is a side of her I don’t often see. She’s such a powerful woman not given to a display of her fears that I can see.  “Oh David I am so pleased to be with thee again!” She almost crushes the life out of me with a powerful hug that feels like the coils of a boa constrictor wrapped around me. She grabs my face on both sides with her long slender fingers adorned with solid gold rings hammered out by metal smiths in the desert city of Judah.  Her long black talons gently touching my scalp and temple. I can feel her very life essence running through the tips of her fingers into my mind. Her wild blue eyes brimming with crystal tears raining down her high cheekbones in a face of pleading and one of fear and longing. She’s back now. I have missed my queen. Her departures leave gaps in my soul and my very being. For I fear she may never return from her temporal capture and releases some time. She bends down with her thin red lips and her breathy admonitions to me and I can smell her warm, moist breath that always portrays her royalty never betraying her with a foulness of any sort. Just purity like the ocean breeze or a gentle breeze through a fresh rainfall through the woods. Her lips brush my face with the gentleness of butterfly wings. They are moistened with the touch of her tongue. She increases the pressure as she squares them against my lips. I feel this swirling electrical surge run into me that makes my knees weak and my head swim.  She holds me up as I lose my balance and her deep resonant breathy laugh escapes that gorgeous throat, that’s commanded armies of men. “I have this effect on you my love?’ She whispers to me with that predatory smile of hers.  “Yes you know you do Ath.” My reply to her silly question. On the inside she is all woman, with a woman’s desires, wants, and needs. Even this woman able to command many powers to read minds, to disassemble humans or most normal matter to its sub atomic constituents. She can do this by altering the basic strong and weak forces that hold atoms together, I have summarily surmised. She says she doesn’t understand it, that she’s always been able to do this from her time as a child.  Still she is vulnerable to her feelings and of being in love, of wanting and needing a man in her life. Why she has picked me is something I have asked myself since I’ve known her. When I ask her she says to me, “Are thee not a prophet indeed David?”  When I explain to her that I am a prophet just not spelled the same she brushes that off with some ancient Judahesion logic. She’s laughing again, a most musical experience one has to hear to comprehend it. Actually word fail miserably when trying to describe this wondrous woman. She kisses me again and tells me she needs a lot more of this. She smiles just millimeters from my face and I can feel her energy tugging and tilting her thin red lips into that most precious part of her countenance. She is mesmerizing to an exponential degree even unto women that meet her. I once watched Ath talk to a woman that was spell bound by her in a shopping mall one day. Ath has this hypnotic effect on people that comes with her sapphire gaze and the intensity she augments that gaze with.  She captures people’s attention totally. No one I’ve ever seen try to converse with her pays any amount of attention to what’s going on around them when talking with her. An entire building could collapse around someone talking with her and they would be unaware of it.

   Her black mane of hair has wrapped itself around my neck as she holds me and nuzzles my face with those ruby lips. I could fall into the hubs of hell with this woman and feel safe and loved. She loves this strong. It is no wonder to me that women like this from the past have had effigies of stone made in their behalf.  Stone monuments to these females that the best stone smiths are unable to duplicate. That their chisels, hammers and human sweat are unable to honor all the Athaliah’s, the Hatshepsut’s, Cleopatra’s, and Nerfertaris of time.  Songs to woman on another plain of existence. How odd for me to experience this segment of earth’s history?  I am past being honored; I am at a loss for words.

   Athaliah kisses me again and I am bound in a daydream of her soul and her heart. Her feelings and her longings swirling into my mind and being. She’s good at this; as it comes as naturally to her as breathing. A most unassuming female as ever there was. I am constantly amazed at her. She sees this and it amuses her and makes her laugh which to experience is worth more than all the money in the world. It is a biological connection of ancient mannerisms, of the magic that makes her, of her femininity, and sexuality, a song of her grace and intensity.  It’s what her soul reflects to the world.

        I can feel her beaming thoughts probing into my mind ever so gently. She is so careful with me. So delicate and respectful. She seems to know privacy barriers I have resurrected and never crosses them. She could bore thru them like a lightning bolt from her blue eyes if she was angry, I’ve seen her do it on occasion.

        I watched her reduce a large, vulgar man to his knees one time at the country fair. He was making sarcastic remarks to me about why a gal like Athaliah would be with an old man like me. Ath is very sensitive to tonal qualities and volumes in human speech. She tells me there’s bad music in rudeness. Believe this dear reader she knows it well too. I was afraid for this buffoon’s life. Had I not been there Athaliah could have sent his atoms on their merry way into all parts of the universe and no one would have known where this soul had gone to.  Her eyes generate this sort of field that affects matter at the subatomic levels. It disrupts or nullifies the strong and weak forces that hold the quarks and leptons and atoms that are who we are together. She doesn’t understand how this works it just happens when she gets upset or insulted by someone. It doesn’t happen if she has an accident however. It seems to be driven by human interactions. I’ve never seen her have an accident either for that matter. Things just seem to function at their level best around her. I don’t think this is anything she does either. It may be influenced by some of her magical fields that seem to surround her. I don’t know if I’d call this magic either it’s just what happens around her is all.

    The last time the temporal police ran her down was when we were going into a restaurant. I held the door open for her and watched her become surrounded in this purple fog or mist and watched her phase into some other temporal plain as those sapphire eyes pleaded with me to hold her fast in this century.  Then she was gone. I’m the only one to witness this. No one else can see this happen. It’s a natural effect of time. It’s a protective device that guards against temporal parallelisms.  Then I’m left to ponder her return, which again is only witnessed by me. It usually happens at home.  She reappeared to me one time when I was out in the woods with the camera. And it’s funny because I was thinking of her intently to the point of having tears in my eyes. “David, tears for your queen how blessed you are.” “Thee art the only man that would shed tears for me dear man.” She said to me. To this I find astonishing because of who she is. Any man would find this woman irresistible but she invariably tells me mine is the only heart that is true to her. Who am I to argue?

  During one of Athaliah’s departures I became acquainted with a woman named Laraine. Laraine is another woman of remarkable talents and attributes. She reminds me much of Athaliah, only on a more natural scale. Talking with Laraine is so different from any other woman on the planet short of Athaliah. She is able to hold my interest and captivate me with a voice of femininity, a musical articulation of the spoken word that carries her temperament, sexuality and mood in its modulation. A most fascinating woman to converse with. I found myself thinking of Laraine, at least daily. A sort of fascination with her that I’ve never experienced with any other woman on the planet. It makes me question how I feel about her. It makes me question myself and my feelings for Laraine. It makes me believe that there is more to our friendship than I have ever experienced with any other woman in my lifetime. So what to do with these feelings? I cannot throw them out when Athaliah returns. I don’t want to either. It’s my belief that with each person we meet in our life we carry their “markers” with us. It’s a sort of entity marker of that person’s life force. The sensitive’s in our lives can see these markers. Athaliah can see them easily.

        The next morning after Athaliah’s last home coming she asked lying next to me in bed, “Who is Laraine, my love?”   This shocked me although I should be used to her uncanny ability to see these sorts of events in life. I looked into her large blue pools of eyes that had a strange tilt of uneasiness to them. “Laraine is a friend that I went to school with but didn’t know until she read some of my poetry.” “You have feelings for this woman David.” Was Ath’s reply. “Yes, I do, she is a friend that’s different, but she’s a friend and she’s not trying to compete with you either.” “I have feelings for all of my friends Ath you know that.”Yes my man I know you do, that’s why I love you.” I could see a smile forming at the corners of those marvelous thin lips and the twinkle was back in those blue eyes of hers. This is the best way to view Athaliah. It’s when she’s most in tune with life. She becomes playful and rolls on top of me and the cascade of obsidian hair that smells of ancient perfumes and of times that cling to her like pheromones of antiquity cascade down into my face. She has no morning breath like I do and she breaths her essence into me with a light kiss that makes me want to reciprocate for the rest of my life. This makes me laugh and her as well.  Then she says “I would like to meet this Laraine, can I do this David?”  Taking me totally by surprise I agree. I am more concerned for Laraine because of Athaliah’s countenance. “Have you told Laraine about me?”, Athaliah questions. She already knows I have but this is the woman in her. “Yes I have and she also told me she wants to meet you as well.” “Indeed?” Well I think I like this woman already.” Ath surprises me just about daily and this morning is no different. So now I get to arrange a meeting with the two women who are my milestones of life.

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