Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 47

This week's picture prompt is from Polish artist Tomasz Alen Kopera. He has a way of creating that is magical. He has some wonderful pieces  so many I could write for. Check out his gallery on his website.

It took a while for this story to surface, I stopped and started (and procrastinated) quite a bit. I wanted to capture their intensity and their desire. I think I managed to do that, and also give it a dark edge at the end. I like it, I hope you do too.

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The Lovers

She longed eternally to bring up her arm and touch his face, but she could no longer move. She could only stare into his eyes as he did into hers and remember their love forever.

They heard the movement around them, time passed in a strange disconnected way, seasons and life growing around them. One minute buried in green, another surrounded by city. It was all a blur in their peripheral vision. Like the rest of their bodies, their sight was fixed on each other and could go nowhere else.

Then one day there were ribbons and pieces of paper floating down and draping over them. They heard song and dance surrounding them, hands on them. A fluttering began at their backs and they felt for the first time in millennia air touching their bodies. Cracks ran up her partners face and over his head, and she felt the same on hers. She attempted again to raise her hand and this time there was movement: a breaking, a cracking as it began to bend.

She wriggled her fingers getting ready as the last crumbs of stone fell from his soft dark skin, and brought her arm up. The delicate sensation under her fingertips of the smooth warm surface caused her to gasp, as did the feel of his hands on her hips as he could finally begin to embrace her again.

She ran a finger over his lips as their bodies began to lean in, the stone crumbling & falling away from their bodies in clouds of dust, leaving traces of their movement in the air. She stared only at his lips as they moved closer, anticipating the touch which was far more tangible than she had imagined all these centuries. Its softness flowed through her and her body responded by collapsing against his, moulding with it, her desire reaching its peak as they were once again lovers.

The crowds had fallen silent around them, in awe and wonder at this marvel of life returning to what they believed were statues all these years, unaware of the magic it was bringing forth and letting loose. As the lovers turned towards the people, cheers went up and the festival began again in earnest. Swathes of the ash from the Lover’s bodies rose up and filled the air the people breathed. One by one they became as rigid as the lovers had been; some caught in the act of dancing, some in kissing, and some attempting to run away as they witnessed what was happening.

It was their turn now to stand for centuries, locked in desire, in joy, and in perpetuity. The Lovers were back and would have their revenge.