On Tue, Dec 2, 2014 at 7:15 PM, Jack Moore <[email protected]> wrote:
> AN: Any thoughts yet? > Nope. > [...] > > A bird shrieked above me. I glanced up in time to see a red-shouldered > hawk take > off from a branch and fly away. "Ulysses could catch you. You may be > bigger but he's > faster. I've got my glove…" > > [...] > > [...] There is nothing quite like the thrill of watching your bird lift > off and from there rise to a > high pitch into a steep stoop. > > "Ulysses will be released soon." I mumbled. "I wish he could take me with > him…" > > [...] If you're lucky you will get small distractions to block out your > thoughts, > before they come crashing back. > > The hawk was one such distraction. As it took off, my gaze stuck with it. > "You're lucky. You don't have to worry about anything do you?" > With all this contemplation on the hawk, It almost seems like it's foreshadowing a hawk transformation. > > I sat down on the log. Now my mind turned to the cursed valley itself. > You'd > never have to leave would you… > Definitely a hawk transformation. > [...] > > I hopped back up. "What is my father thinking? He's going to get us > killed." > Probably, that's how these things tend to go. > > [...] A hawk screeched again. I looked > up to see it fly against the sun, framed by a break in the trees. > > "Beautiful." I whispered as I watched the bird fly above the trees. "I > want to go > with you." I looked away, back to the long. I walked to the edge and pause. > > [...] > > "I want to go with you…" I hovered on the edge of the wood. "Can I go with > you?" > How can it not be a hawk transformation? > [...] > > I awoke to find I was laying on my back. I was very warm and now in a room > of > white stone. Alabaster. > > "Hello Jack." > > "My name is James." > > "So you say." I glanced over my body, no blood or torn clothes. Slowly I > stood > up. I looked around. The room was circular and smooth, clean white > alabaster. Behind > me was one entrance way. > Damn son, ya done messed up. Ya ignored Nemo's advice and done got yerself killed. > [...] > > "I've been waiting for you." The rag man said. "You took a long time, very > rude." > That's our narrator, always ignoring people, keeping them waiting, forgetting their names. Typical. > > "I'm sorry?" I slowly approached the channel, still glancing around. > "Where am > I? I fell and hit my head…" > and died. > > "You are in a place." I frowned. > > "Wonderful answer. > It's almost as if he's channeling your personality. > [...] > > "Wow you don't know many things." > He certainly doesn't know enough not to run off and get himself killed. > > I put the child down and took a closer look. > Now I could see many were flawed with cracks over the eyes or missing > ears. Some had > cracks over the eyes or seemed to be a mesh of genders. Why do they look > so beautiful? > My hand reached out again. Finally I picked up a small one that > seemed…odd. > > It was a lizard man, maybe a dragon man with a massive frill along the > neck. It > held in its hand another pointed stick. > > "You have found yourself." The ragman said. > So does that mean he's not going to be a hawk? > > "I hit my head." I said. "Is this real?" > We've already established this narrator, you dead. > > "Could be." I sat down in a chair that appeared under me. "Uh thanks." > > "I wouldn't want you thinking me a bad host Jack." The ragman said. > "Mostly I > brought you here because I wished to meet you. We will speak more later, > before the > unpleasantness." > > "Still not my name." > Well it's not like you can remember anyone else's. > > "Let me ask you something Jack, what do you want to be?" I frowned. > > "That's a stupid question." > > "Is it? Do you want to be transformed?" > > "I want to be someone whose not got a head injury > How about someone who's not dead? (Also, who's not whose) > > and talking to…what do you call them? People who aren't there?" > > "You believe me to be a hallucination?" The ragman shook his head. "Well I > suppose you can't know I am. Everything I'm saying could be a lie, > especially the lies." > > [...] > > "I'm not interested in transforming." > > "Aren't you?" The ragman tilted his head. "Strange. I suspect this too > shall > change." > I believe the saying is: "This too shall pass." > > "Why are you dressed as a rejected series of swatches?" I asked. "I could > sew > better clothing than that." > > "Aren't you supposed to be the masculine, modern son of a lord, not > interested in > feminine arts." > Apply cold water to burned area. > > I frowned. "I'm just observing. I'm amazed. You've been allowed to > learn a skill of your choice." > > "What does that mean?" > > "Just that I question if you're an actor in your own life." The ragman > said. "Well > it's really of no matter. If you're not, you'd best learn how to be." > > [...] > > "What do you think you're doing!?" > > "Helping you along." The ragman said. "If you don't get a little push > you'll never > move forward." The room turned until the table was suspended sideways. I > held onto the > chair for dear life. > > "Help me!" > > "I am." The ragman grabbed a crystal figure from the table. "Bye-bye." The > figure smacked me between the eyes. My fingers slipped free. > It's not the help you deserve, but it is the help you need right now. > > My scream echoed as the lizard figure and I spiraled into the abyss. > > AN: I enjoyed writing this scene. > And I enjoyed reading it. __________________________________________________ WARNING: The preceding email contained scenes of extreme sarcasm and should not have been read by individuals of a sensitive disposition. -AlexSurikat
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