How the wind blows.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Children raise, die as adults.
Living gold, throwing ice.
Forcing worldwide substance to rotate.
That's how the wind blows.

Submitted: June 25, 2011

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Submitted: June 25, 2011



The home family on out a day trip to the natural beauty of forest galore, the wind blowing with trees harmonizing to the beat of birds singing. A father, a mother and Lily, the parents child of mere relentless admiration for those who love her dearly at heart. \"Hold-some grant, towards this glorious day gaining honesty of those around me\". The mother would bellow, to the nature, the world beneath her feet. \"Alas my love, the fair beauty is of you and the offspring we have created\". The father, spoken in a cherished tone against the mellow breeze. Lily speaks no word, no smile, no sorrow, oblivious to such situation that only such beauty to her is the patterns of a butterfly that flutters through out the flimsy gusts, travelling far and wide. The parents speak among themselves, expressing their feelings towards each other and praise the love between them both. Icy blue shimmers from the sun against the muted child's eyes as it gazes upon the small insect that soon travels to a brink, the end of ground to find a way home although; the child follows. Her constant curiosity wishes only to find the destination the small creature desires to rest against. Lily's dolly soled shoes stopped once at the dangerous matters of life and death, prancing her eyes to the forever down floor which only means one step away. A growl of wind, sweeps the muted child from her own position and harshly gravity takes its course pressuring the decision on what fate this child will have in store. A snap turn, the girl clutches onto the edge, the grass, the beauty of nature; crushed. Alerted, the parents of such muted girl begin to suspect her disappearence and take matters into their own hands. The mother, wished to go one direction whilst the father takes a different path. The mother goes to the right turning, to find her own child crying silently with desperation for help. The mother only reacted with instinctual reflexes and leaps out for her child but the wind blows maliciously to one side and cause such same fate as her own offspring. The mother soon calls just the same but with noise than silence, in seconds the father turns but his body frozen, the reapers blade placed into his own quivering palms. The distance between two female's, his soul mate and his own blood and joy. He breaks to sweat, repetitive eye movement to each his own mind will grief to never rest. The mother screaming out, twisting her body to try gaining some ground but earth only falls. The child broken, tears streaming with not much stone to clutch for her silky immature hands to grasp. The father closes his eyes. Mother and daughter's world ends, silver stone collapses driving the wind, passing besides them is selfish fears that only hope that pain does not occur. Death, in own palms the father dashes out and jumps between, penciling his own body to gain same height of each. He grasps both pieces of his own heart into his arms and takes them close. Atmosphere stands still. Time stops whilst memories only brush through their eyes, ears and hair. Flashbacks to the doomed and treasured times they all shared. The child first baring words escapes her rosin lips, a slip of a whisper. \"And that is how... The wind blows\".

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