Rosalyn’s Ever After

Rosalyn's Ever After

Rosalyn awoke, not to white light, but rather to luscious crimson hues, rippling like satin and silk, awakening every sense.

She found herself wonderfully nude and walking through a forest of vermilion drapes that seemed to go on forever. Shivering in delight as she brushed up against them, she reveled in the scent that lingered on her smooth young skin as she passed through. A scent that was at once familiar and yet foreign, somehow – as if it were the perfected version of a scent with which she only had a passing acquaintance.

“Look at you,” a strong voice sighed, then growled like a randy wolf.

dsc_1870Rosalyn sighed and blushed a beautiful shade of carmine in involuntary response. She then turned toward the voice and there, on a bed billowing with blooming scarlet sheets, was her Henry, looking as young, virile and handsome as the day she’d met him forty-seven years ago.

But Henry had been dead these past nine years. Then that could only mean…

“Am I…” she stammered. “Is this…”

“Roses,” Henry smiled, putting a finger to his lips and beckoning her to join him in bed, “I always promised you roses.”

————-

These photos are used with kind permission and at the request of the equally as lovely Anette Hermann from her series entitled “Eight days with roses”

Suffice to say that they are not to be reproduced or re-used without her permission, though I’m sure she’d be delighted if you discovered her blog, which is just beautiful, darlings.

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18 responses to “Rosalyn’s Ever After

  1. What a fabulous piece, Helena! Again you set my brain off in one direction, then another… composing a long story, build upon a short story.
    I like the way you composed your post, how you used the images. Beautiful and light.
    Thanks for all the fine compliments ♡ and for using my photos!

  2. Reblogged this on Anette Hermann Photography and commented:
    I challenged Helena Hann-Basquiat – https://helenahannbasquiat.wordpress.com/ – to write a short story, based upon/inspired by a couple of my images.
    Helena manufactured a lovely little piece, with a surprising but nonetheless delightful twist in the end.

    Helena’s writings sends my brain off on journeys. They leave little gaps, spaces my imagination can fill in. Inspiration on a plate! And who doesn’t like that for breakfast?

    I encourage you to go visit Helena. She is a darling, and so, she will generously address you.

    Enjoy and have a wonderful day!

  3. Wunderbar! I’ll be honest, at my quick skim of the first sentences I thought I was in for some kind of 50 Shades spin-off… but then I got hooked in, and arrived at this line:

    “She then turned toward the voice and there, on a bed billowing with blooming scarlet sheets, was her Henry, looking as young, virile and handsome as the day she’d met him forty-seven years ago.”

    I love it! I’m gaga for anything that examines loves which are still great after many years. I want to know more!

    • Thank you for your kind words, Jennie, but as you meander through my memoirs, you’ll find the very thought of me writing some Fifty Shades nonsense highly laughable. I suggest you re-read Rosalyn’s Ever After, though… all Henry has to offer her is an eternity of roses — they are, after all, both passed on — they’ve drawn up the curtain and joined the choir invisible, darling. They’re dead.

      • Thanks for writing back and reassuring me that I’ll find no Fifty Shades here. 🙂

        I did understand that Rose and Henry are dead, but it felt like you set up their meeting after death as the start of more adventures. I’d like to be greeted in the afterlife by a rejuvenated husband holding roses, myself – and if I were, I’d assume we were about to go explore a new dimension together. I thought that was in store for your characters as well – but perhaps that’s just my personal take based on what sounds nice to me. In any case, thanks for sharing something intriguing.

  4. I repeat myself, but your fiction is addictive.
    What powerful images you create.

    It is amazing how I seem to lose myself in a world you created within the first three odd lines of your piece. And it isn’t like you inundate the reader with details. They just seem to fit into place, directed by the feel you dictate.

    You have a fan, Miss.

    • All this praise is going to my head, darling! I’m a bit dizzy. To be honest, while I am very proud of this story, it’s not exactly representative of the rest of my memoirs — that is, if I were recommending a piece for someone to read to, ahem, get a taste of Helena, as it were — this wouldn’t be the first one to spring to mind. Just goes to show you never know what is going to resonate with people, and I am so very glad that this piece has. Thank you once more for reading, and for leaving your kind words.

  5. Pingback: Eight days with roses | Anette Hermann Photography·

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