If I could have opened my eyes so I could see where I'd land, I would've never fallin' for you.
There'd be no tears in my eyes, no beating in my chest, as drop by drop fills the sea
I've been treading water and have poured out my soul, buried the pieces and let you go-Drop by Drop, The Sweeplings
An acrid smell lingered in the room several moments after the match was struck. Sarah held the burning splinter of wood against the candle's wick hoping that the flame would catch before she toasted a finger. The sweet smell of burning beeswax was all she needed after a long day spent in the chilly November air.
November was such a cruel month. November choked the last vestiges of life out of the crumbling leaves and sent his army of frost to vanquish the lingering flora. Maybe November thought that he was being kind, putting creation out its own misery before the everlasting cold of December.
Sarah thought about November as she set the tea kettle on the stove top and pulled a mug from the cabinet. If November were a person he'd be tall and sly bedecked in oranges and browns. He'd carry a sword and wear a green cloak. She thought with a smile. "A cruel autumn king." She mused aloud while whipping out a sketchbook and pulling a pencil from a jar on the counter. The sharp squeal of the kettle brought her back to the world only after she'd doodled the mischievous face of her November man, he disturbingly resembled a rather tall goblin.
She hadn't seen a goblin in a long while. At least, not a live one. Her own recreations of goblins she'd encountered were littered about the house and scribbled on the sides of notes and scraps of paper. Some were fierce, others friendly, but they all lived in her memory. Here and there a Goblin king with flashing eyes would crop up among her penciled scratchings, but she usually hid those.
"You know, Morgana," she said to the white cat on her counter, "I feel like that story wasn't quite finished. That's what distresses me about the Goblin King. Heroes are supposed to win, heroes get the happy ever after. Is this my happy ever after?" She looked to the feline for answers.
Morgana blinked twice and licked her paw.
Sarah nodded as if in agreement with her furry friend. "I feel like I lost something." It was a sentiment that she'd expressed more than once. "I don't regret what I did, Morgana. I did what was right. But, there's no closure. It's so confusing." November was cruel indeed. It always reminded her of him.
Sarah sprang from her seat, nearly overturning her tea, which was cooling quickly. A wicked gleam glinted in her green eyes as she grabbed a red scarf from the back of her chair. Morgana gifted her with an annoyed expression as she tied the scarf on her neck with an abrupt jerk.
"I should go out into the dark of night, Morgana and call his name to the four corners of the earth. Demand that he...that he...well I am not entirely certain what I should demand." The wildness faded from her voice, the gleam dimmed in her troubled eyes.
"What does a woman grown demand from a king of goblins? Peace of mind? A quiet soul? Do I wish that he would erase the image I carry of his haphazard eyes? Or the way his voice drifts in and out of my dreams as I sleep at night?" Her expression was deep and dramatic. A heavy sigh fell like a stone from her lips as she walked gracefully through the living room. A lively fire danced merrily in the fireplace.
Sarah's soliloquy carried her out of the warm room and away from the disinterested cat. She found herself standing on the wrap-around porch staring into the clear crisp night sky. The stars were only sharp pinpricks of light waltzing above her.
She was brave but she never dared to speak or even think his name. Yet, with each year that slipped through her fingers, she felt the pull of it. The syllables skipped on the tip of her tongue. It grew stronger with every beat of her heart. Sarah Williams was not in love with the goblin king, but her eyes searched for his bitter grin and her ears listened for his mocking voice.
Tonight was as good a night as any.
"Goblin king, goblin king, wherever you may. Come here...come here to me." She whispered the words into the night's chill. They twisted among the pines and got tangled in the frost tinged wind. Those words were faint scattered fragments when they found the Goblin King.