The Hand

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
A continuation to "The Idea"

Submitted: July 22, 2009

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Submitted: July 22, 2009



The Hand

The sound of man and woman, child and dog echoed through out the halls and fields of England. Limestone Streets of dancing people, joyous people, showing to his fellow neighbough the excitement and gratitude that he hold in his heart and he display on his face for the present passing situation, as a new and mighty power governs the land, bringing with it a holy hand. All cameras, screens and eyes directed toward a golden stage of prosperous men, dressed in higher class cloth with stern hearted women beside them. These men of metallic brand smile with thoughts of victory and promise, as they glance upon their people whom return their smiles with bouts of glory and opened houses. These men of power stand in combined structure facing the outward land. Their flags of symbol waving in tsunami winds that form not from resulting weathers but from the spirit and motion of the countries men. A tall stiff man of black attire with golden hair, and hollow eyes approaches the golden stand form which he speaks a word, a word that echoes, a word that haunts; this word he preaches is Midas.

“We stand here up on this golden hour this eternal year and we show unto those doubtful men that our hand of god has nurtured your land, my land and delivered those equal men a message that we are of golden touch and promise, and our word we spread is true and justified!”

The land of people screamed a name through cable and crowed, raised their worthy arms, swords and crutch in hope that this power shall lead them into light and victory. Each man believed in their screams with combined thought, that they know and feel this turn of a blood stained page has opened to a clean and flowing content. Again the stern commanding man places his lips, from which he spouts lies and prejudice, upon the golden stand and he orders that the people listen to his word and listen to it well.

“You have witnessed the day, a historic day that England turns her back upon the indolent and voracious man that she dose so fight for. She turns toward her people and blesses them with our golden touch and a glorious plan, a plan that demands your attention, your intervention, and together we will become England as she was once remembered! Britannia shall rule the nations as she once did with a golden sword, a golden sword onto which she will be victorious!”

Once more the nation of man and beast scream the name. With great power and belief they chant that name, shaking the angles of their clouds and raising mountains from out the sea. The tall man of gold stands with outward glance and lets these men see his smile, a smile that dose not make known from this empowering speech but from within, hidden pleasures that he and his fellow metallic companions know to be wrong but beneficial to him and his dog.

So graciously and intensely dominating, the man of power raises his hand in sharp gesture, palm facing the nation and as a gust of the cold wind gallops through the crowed, toward the man of gold, a bellowing voice of terror and darkness, silences the men that do so believe in him. “MIDAS!!”

Again men from all houses and classes, scream that word, breathe that word and believe that word.

The man looks outward to see his new nation of adoring and honoring men and he sees the future, but not as he delivers it onto them. He knows that these men have given unto him their hearts and their swords, he knows that they believe the hand of god and know it true in their hearts that these golden men are of holy comings.

“True is the word that I speak unto you deserving men of all creed and race. So I give it to you that we as a nation, we as England should end our internal suffering brought on by those from outside our mighty land and we stand together.”

As the man of gold delivered those powerful words, those powerful demands, again he raises his grey hand, palm facing them men and repeats that word, so viciously and darkened. “MIDAS, MIDAS, MIDAS!!!”

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