Perpetuity of Existence

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story about a place near where I live. We used to go up there every night and hang out. Weird things would always happen to us up there.

Submitted: June 19, 2007

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Submitted: June 19, 2007

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As we crept up the precipitous winding road the fog seemed almost contemptuous as it swallowed us into the darkness. With every lungful of air I could feel the warmth of the night within me as if it were trying to attain control of my soul. The night had an enthralling ambiance, almost taunting us to continue onward with our aspirations. We parked alongside a frail sign that read, “Road Closed” but I construed it as a forewarning of something to come. As we sauntered down the dirt path we were both conscious to the reality that nothing will by no means ever be as it was. I feel the warmth of her hand as it gently clashes against mine; my sanity is for the moment sporadic as my body struggles to catch up to my thoughts. Our fingers provokingly intertwine with one another as we momentarily disregard how near we are to our fate. We do not have the courage to converse for dread of offending the faultless atmosphere for a demoralizing obscurity. As are conclusion begins to fade into sight, our aspirations gradually develop into an authenticity of our demise. Beyond the overhang is nothing but fog, a sea of distrust and disbelieve where souls can submerge there uncertainties and insecurities. We as if one, step to the boundary that we had settled on at the time of our predestined birth. Our once warm hands are now blistering with the intensity of apprehension and zeal. We know what is about to come to pass and as we gaze into each others desolate facades we can see our mutual acceptance by the anomalous grins we adorn. As we lean forward into the tepid breeze, time is unhurried in what seems to be a perpetuity of existence. We hear nothing other than the droning sound of stillness humming throughout our heads as our corpses descend into obscurity and our minds transcend into a state of some immoral manic euphoria…

 

…To Be Continued


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