She stands outside, glittering in the morning sunlight. She whispers through the door, “Come outside and play with me.” She undulates between the tall pine trees, pulling their boughs to her. The wind picks up the lacy hem of her skirt, swirling it around, tearing it away to be whipped along the ground and discarded with other bits of gossamer fabric in a low spot of the terrain. “Come play with me,” she again cries through the door, now an octave higher, more shrill. Clouds chase the loose pieces of her raiments; the wind lifts the tree boughs up, sending her careening across the landscape. A low moan echos through the house, a shudder as the wind drops her crystal jewels against the house. “Come play with me, NOW…” she howls. The sun comes out again from behind the clouds. She shimmers in its intense light. It is a siren song she plays. Icy, shining fingers stretch along the window panes, seeking a way into your sanctuary, trying to draw you outside. She twirls again just outside the window, her garments lifting in the air currents. She rips a shawl of sequined white off and it catches in the pines. They too are now dancing, singing, “Come outside and play with us.” A roar is felt as much as it is heard as one of her dance partners slams into the house, renting the corner open. Her arms stretch out entering the once secured domain of your home. Her fingers touch your cheek, “Come play with me, now…”
Inspiration courtesy of The Daily Prompt. To see more, click the link below.