Spring Ritual

Welcome to the Spot Writers. This month’s prompt is to write a story that features a springtime ritual.

This week’s contribution comes from Chiara De Giorgi. Chiara is an Italian author and currently lives in Berlin, Germany. She writes fiction, with a focus on children’s literature and science fiction.

 

Spring Ritual

by Chiara De Giorgi

(An Elsa Mon story)

Image by JL G from Pixabay

 

Elsa Mon, the beloved paranormal romance author, was not having a good day.

She had been going out with Dr. Victor Thorn, her dentist, for a few weeks, and although she had not exactly been swept off her feet–as it usually happened to her heroines when they met the love of their life–she was having a good time. They both were, as far as she could tell. Until, one night last week, she talked about the romance she was working on. She told Victor that the love interest of her protagonist, Inés, was a dentist, and since Victor was a dentist himself–Elsa’s dentist, to be precise–he smiled sweetly at her and asked her to read an excerpt. 

“I know writers can be quite particular about not having anyone check their writings before they’re done,” he said, “but I’m so curious! Can you make an exception and let me read just a few lines, maybe?”

Flattered by his request (as a matter of fact, she had no problem having others read her writings before she was done, the truth was, no one ever asked her to), Elsa replied that she would be honored to let him read a few pages of her draft of Love is like candies but the dentist is waiting (that was a temporary title, she informed him). They left the restaurant where they just had dinner and went to Elsa’s.

Elsa opened her laptop in the living room and let Victor take a look at Inés’ story file while she went and boiled some water for tea.

When she came back carrying a tray with tea and biscuits, Victor was staring at the screen with a deep frown on his face. 

An unpleasant conversation followed, as Victor had realized how much the character of Dr. Toothpick was based on him and wasn’t sure he liked the fact that Dr. Toothpick was a green goblin with flapping ears and orange eyes. Nor did he appreciate that Dr. Toothpick’s assistant, a frog-boy named Joey Jumpey, was clearly based on his own real assistant, his sister’s step-son.  

He had left soon after, his cup of tea untouched, and Elsa had not heard from him for days. Today was the spring equinox, and she had hoped that he would go into the woods with her for her own personal spring ritual.

Elsa took the ritual very seriously; she was sure it granted her good luck for the year to come. 

Every year, at sunrise on spring equinox, she would drive to the woods that surrounded the little town where she lived, find a nice, clear spot, and played the violin until her arms were too tired to hold the bow. Her music was supposed to wake nature. She would close her eyes and imagine the trees reaching with their limbs towards the sky; the flowers shaking off the dew; the little birds stretching their wings; the squirrels, badgers, and foxes coming out of their winter dens and smelling the fresh air… all thanks to her music. 

She had never told anyone about this ritual of hers, it was a secret she had only told Victor because she wished him to be there with her, something she had never wished about anyone before. And now, she was feeling sad because she had shared this precious secret with him and he had rejected her over a fictional character. 

“And people say I am the one who can’t tell the difference between real life and fiction…” she murmured. 

She shook her head, chasing the thought of Victor away, then picked her violin case and went to the woods.

She found her spot just as the first sunrays were making their way between the tree branches, she tuned her instrument, and she started to play. 

She soon forgot everything, lost in the music and images forming in her mind of Nature awakening. Fairies joined the ritual, touched every grass blade with their tiny fingertips and turned them bright green. With her eyes closed, Elsa could hear the soft rustling of dead leaves, the faint creaking of displaced or snapped twigs, the first, shy chirps of birds who started to sing along with her violin; she could smell the damp soil, the mushrooms, the resin that dropped from the broken branches… Elsa focused. What was that smell? It was somehow familiar, but she couldn’t place it. 

She slowly opened her eyes, her hands still playing the music. In front of her, a faint ray of the first sun of March 21st shone on Victor’s face. A smile was on his face and a gentleness in his eyes.

No words were needed. She smiled back at him and kept playing. 

The chords of Elsa’s violin filled the forest, and Victor surrendered to the music. He thought that Elsa must truly be a bit magical, because suddenly his heart felt soft and light…

*****

The Spot Writers—Our Members:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/