Eyes of All

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Sorry for the grammar errors. Pasted from google docs. I'll type from now on.

Chapter 3 (v.1) - Smoke

Submitted: May 22, 2016

Reads: 124

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Submitted: May 22, 2016

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Smoke

 

 

My mission was in crystal, not before the heat of wool was missing. The pear fruit bitten down to its core, limping out of sleep to the entrance. 

"Surprise of day!"

The small fluff chirped in joy, with still an opposite presented.

"My greetings"

Treading towards the door, trying to block disruptiveness, gathering essentials, and equipping my trustee, carrying have been so full of necessity.

The site is bound to have at least a dozen sprinters. Worse yet, simple to lose grip with the handle that holds life in stasis, but difficult to hold on for continuation of breath. No choice in matter, depite despair to be shouted into the depths of what was once growing for the future, now a former shell of the past.

A pole with a curved blade, used back on the cold crags around the old town, was in between five, weary and torn limbs. Rust glided downward with the blade, at last, pristine. 

A child's gasp was blown into the back of my thoughts. Fiddling with arms and legs is remarkably rude, especially with one so young. The belief is in me for a moment of innocence, as time will toll the body and mind for one who carries the heart of a child, eventually cracking away.

However, in warning of a weapon, that must be put aside, mistakes made, pain granted.

"Forgive me." A ring of a whimper mumbled.

"Do not fear, for impunity remains."

"Never asked, what do you seem to be?"

"A human."

Debilitating are distinct things that require more attention, but this is rather nettlesome. A laugh to come. but will not.

With the child bouncing behind, adventure is what may be presumed. incorrect.

"A notice to be taken care of."

"Can a partner travel along?"

A shake of the head reminded me of times young groans existed, grueling to carry, easy to spill. 

"To beg to convince?"

"Deal."

"Understood! What now?"

"Any places known?"

Regret was swift before the revealing of another "tour." Not my day.

The trees glowed with the usual blue in a row before the mountain, but knowing the circumstances, hurrying is mandatory. Stange bugs flew, yellow burning like the orb floating with its gently rays.

"Come! Grey clouds on top?"

"A jackrabbit is what I call you, mate."

"And what may be that?"

Through the ocean of trees, a smell of suspicion was welcomed to my nostrils, not black, nor white, but together, formed from fire.

"A sign of danger, is what pushes you off."

"But..."

"The danger may be treacherous."

Alone with mangled forms crawling, each making a form in the abnormal. The machines of murder, now begging for mercy, should I gift?

The durable handle was unshaken, fear has no place in war, not even a sight of compassion. Despite evil.

"Why?"

"What else?"

"A way?"

"I am afraid not?"

Dirt felt nothing with the heavy footsteps with the heavy footsteps of a shadow. A monster is a beast who destroys the very essence of meaning. A monster that take, yet not receives. Consequence reflects back from the attack, untouchable is the one that is true.

Hearing shouts, not them.

But I did ruin childhood, a promise failed to keep.

The village of curiousity converted to a town of silence, a name reversed. Sure I am, yelling will be with us, as it began now. A family broken apart, a puzzle unfeasible. The child, I never bothered to ask, what may you be? The child, consumed in a river. A child, I must fix.


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