When Hell freezes over
By Kyle Katz
When hell froze over, she thought God was giving her a second chance.
She skated across the ice river of lost souls, remembering the look on her face when she crossed the line. Heavenly joy!
The crossover, easy and succulent, didn’t at all seem sinful– just the opposite. She couldn’t explain it either.
Surely she didn’t have to wait this long to paint a brush stroke that wasn’t self-contained.
When hell froze over, the angels of desires realized all guilt and conversation blazed its way through rhetoric, burning holes through her untamed imagination.
She indulged in chocolate. Wine and tight skirts, glossy red lipstick joined together in a celebration dancing around the confessional booth.
But this time she fantasized that she WAS Marilyn Monroe. She pouted and teased. She cooed and coyly tempted all her longings and impulses.
But summer came like it always did, thawing out the sweet roundness of her hips. Her innocent laughter filled its creases with too many responsibilities. Her brush stroke was quick, but deserted… colorless. The moisture of her painted red lips shriveled with sadness.
She embraced the winter…when hell froze over.
She dropped to her knees and prayed.
She begged of passion, to please remember her and find her –once again.
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(editor’s note: [lament, actually] to date, only two or three of you who come regularly to our site have kicked in to our own Kristy Webster’s gofundme campaign to publish The Gift of an Imaginary Girl. We all can take pride in seeing one of our own succeed. I have skin in the game. Show me some skin! https://awordwithyoupress.com/announcing-kristy-websters-gofund-me-campaign/
With breathless, impassioned beauty of words, inner radiated imagery, I praise the goddess, who skates through her own mind, turning her hell into her heaven with prose that glides her prayer to remember her own beauty, love and celebration of life and immortality. These words can begin the death of Roman Catholic hell and the rebirth of your goddess passion. Transubstantiate your own spirit, absolve your own guilt, grant your own prayer to life. Blessed be.
Yes but did you like it?
I have never read any prose or poem or heard words spoken that I have loved more. The path to hell, where the devil is the priest and the passionless go to reside, is paved in the confessional traps of guilt, shame and false absolution. These words are a self-prayer to the goddess’s natural passionate need to live true beauty and celebrate goodness, so my answer is YES. I pray her prayer be answered.
Parisianne, your support of my writing has not gone unnoticed. Your evaluations are poetry in itself.
I do appreciate you. I’m glad you loved it!
I am but a lost soul, frozen under ice, not really worth noticing, so thank you for your kindness.
Yes Sir. She had me at heavenly joy.
Yes. Skating through my own mind. Thanks Parisianne.
This is gorgeous! Remarkably unique but simple in that talented way of yours that makes me shudder in delight.
So happy it made you shudder. I appreciate your comments more than you imagine.
I imagine you.
An apt metaphor for life’s final journey towards that inevitable end or beginning.
Yes William. End or the beginning. I felt the same way for her. Thanks for reading my prose. You may want to go to ‘Contest’ and read some of the other fine stories.
I totally enjoyed your take on the old saying about the icing of Hell!
Thank you for reading this one Sal.
I finally have moments to catch up and your’s is the first one I see. This has gone beyond anything that you have written before. And you have a mighty repertoire in the treasure box. My dear this is stunning, even far above that word. The imagery you presented has my mind reeling and dancing. Goosebumps doing the dance over and under the skin. FABULICIOUS.
Thank you Diane. I do appreciate you so much. Love how you have grown with your writing and storytelling in your own unique voice.
The talent amazes me on this playground! I’m just in awe. Kyle, your gift is unfathomable.
Thanks for the pleasure.
I so agree with you. The talent and diversity really provides a learning experience for so many writers no matter what level you are creating at. I appreciate your kind words and encouragement. I’m also a big fan of the way you write. It’s refreshing!
In the belief that prayers of the selfless get answered, I imagined passion’s return with love’s hope of an eternal Spring. The ice thaws, the skates have been served and unlaced upon the wall in prayer. The heavens fill with an angelic choir singing, “Here Comes the Sun”. Listen carefully from your knees, lift your eyes in joy for passion has found you from the beauty of your story.
You are such a sweet soul. Thank you Parisianne.
Thank you Kyle for sharing your incredible imagination with us. Beautiful.
Hey you. So surprised, so happy you dropped in Mary! Thank you.
This leaves me wanting my own pair of ice skates. Thank you.
Thanks for reading this little piece of my heart. I definitely prefer roller blades.
Apologies for my late entrance into the party. I feel humbled by the flow and musicality of your piece. Gave me goosebumps.