Obsidion black curls tumbled over the roof top edge of Imara's apartment. Her stagnant water colored eyes twinkled in the moonlight while she stared into Luna's luscious gaze. A gentle eastern wind blew, ruffling her light blue festival kimono.
Pumpkin orange lanterns hung from the balconies and canopy edges; the festival still drifted ghostily across the dimly lit ground as frivolous young women and girls giggled in the arms of their loved ones. Imara sighed, her she was, all dressed up with no one to see or do. She rolled over onto her stomach and stared out across the ethereal roof tops. Thick bangs fell into her face and tickled her nose. Imara sneezed and pouted, laying down on her crossed arms.
Imara rolled off the rooftop edge and landed with a slow swoosh on the soft ground. The fresh scent of rain wafted down from the congregating clouds. A drop fell, landing smack inbetween Imara's eyes. "Bah. A festival during the rain..." Imara sighed and leaned against the closest wall, not bothering to move away from the racing drops, targeted straight at her.
"Imara, you really shouldn't stay in the rain. It'll give you a cold," the ramen shop keeper chastised as he closed up for the night.
"I'll be fine," Imara replied cattily. The blue-green coloring dust resting upon her eyelids started to smudge and run down her cheeks, striping her face. Imara hung her head and let the incoming rain drip from the tip of her nose after traveling down her forehead.
Imara's abyssal curls hung limply, plastered to her kimono. The yellow Luna smiled in Imara's drenched beauty, bringing sparkling lunar rainbows into the sky and over Imara's head.
"How beautiful," she sighed, gazing up. She crossed her legs, sitting, and rested her head on her hands. The clean rain stopped, leaving behind Imara's rainbows, and dripped from stiff corners in a straight, steady line to the ground. With a loud thud, the tavern doors opened, spilling out bright light.
"Oy! One of 'em is still out herr! Come look boys," drunken speech slurred away as the lit path illuminated Imara and her twinkling eyes. The bar-goer stepped out; he was of slim shape, a rough stubble beard roosting on his chin. He was laden in a clean festival tunic, white with the occasional, customary black stripe.
The group crowding the door darkened with shadows and whispers of Imara's beauty, her kimono, the rain, and why she was out. The first tavern visitor stepped out, the hem of his tunic dragging the ground. He walked forward, placing one sharply pointed fingernail into Imara's chin, "Now, why would ye be out in all this rain? " His eyes were onyx and cold, all without the trace of warmth he appeared to possess.
Imara slapped away his hand, "I'm sitting here, watching the moon," she replied, staring back with her stagnant, illuminscent eyes
- Title: Imara's Night Out
- Artist: Minariku
- Description: This is the first part of a story that I started writing. It's posted in my journal. I'm still stuck on where the story could go. It's in process. Enjoy.
- Date: 07/29/2008
- Tags: imaraninjarainbarvillage
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