The God of Storms and His Wife

Chapter 5: Sewing

Beautiful sunrays greet my eyes in a light beige room. A silver statue of a tree sits on the dark grey drawer dresser before me. Three old women with pretty silver hair appear around my dark grey sleigh bed. "Look who has finally stirred." One of them say. "Who are you all?" I ask.
One with iridescent eyes says ": My name is Cloth." The middle lady with red hue eyes says ": Allot, is my name." The last lady to the right of me says ": Call me Apoptosis." A white ball of yarn appears on my lap. I pick it up and it turns blue with violet strands of thread highlighting it. Cloth picks up a piece of the yarn and Allot starts pulling from the ball of yarn. "Your thread is a fine quality. Soft to the touch but it's strong and durable." Allot says. A clear plastic canvas appears before Cloth. She puts the thread through a needle and begins to sew something on the canvas.

"What are you talking about?" I ask. "The thread is your fate." Allot says.

"Oh." So they are showing me the fate my soul has in this lifetime. I wonder if they are plotting something sinister.

"Relax we aren't controlling you. Every hole in the canvas is a choice your soul can make to lengthen or shorten your journey. All roads inevitably result in the same end. When the end comes Apoptosis cuts it with her silver scissors."

"Well if this is the yarn my soul is making I must warn you, I'm allergic to every metal but gold."

"That doesn't matter. Right Apoptosis."

Apoptosis nods. "Your soul isn't your body. Your temple is where your soul is housed. Just because your body is allergic to all metals but gold doesn't mean your soul will have a reaction to them." Allot says. The last time I wore sterling silver bracelet my sweat corroded it and my skin peeled like it was a scab from a heeled burn. It fell apart while I was wearing it. A tungsten ring I bought myself, gave me the same allergic reaction. It was a thick ring but when I wore it, it got thinner. Maybe these older women are right. My body's problems shouldn't be my soul's problem.

"Your alarm is ringing. It's time for you to go to class." Allot says while Cloth points to an empty patch on the canvas. Wind whooshes around me as I'm pulled into the canvas. I wake up leaning on a dark green wall. The professor is running a little late. What am I talking about? I'm not in college. I don't- Look who finally shows up. He gives off weird vibes. My Life Science professor looks like a vampire. He wears shades even though it is dreary outside. When we get in the class he takes his shades off and his eyes has the darkest circles around them. He's so pale he looks like a corpse, and you can see every greyish blue vein on his face and arms.

He digs for his lab coat out of his bag and the other young ladies in my class swoon. I roll my eyes. They gawk and fawn over his sickly blue hazel eyes. Yuck! One of the girls beside me asks the other students ": Do you think he's married?" I look at his fingers and a ring is not sitting on any of them. "He doesn't have a marriage ring on. So, I guess not." I say.

"Someone could be married and not have a ring on, Asher."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"Now you know. I wonder what's his age he looks about late thirties or early forties."

I look at the crows feet around his eyes and the wrinkles on his hand. Nope, he's definitely in his fifties. "I think he's in his fifties. He's probably around my mother's age." I say. She rolls her eyes. She says ": You know, I grew up in Britain and my mother would iron my hair back then. My hair was so long. It reached my butt and all the pale guys would give me gifts on Valentine's day gunning to be my boyfriend. Guys like him like a tan girl with long hair. If he's not married, I can totally pull him. Do you dare me?"

"Um. He's old enough to be my dad. If you want him, knock yourself out. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and my eyes don't behold his."

"You know he's handsome. You're just being a hater."