понедельник, 20 июня 2016
He fell asleep in the garden...He fell asleep in the garden, a book on his lap and the whole world in anticipation of evening sparks that were also ready to disturb the midday softness. It was the last chance to savour summer's vast attempt to hold its own against the inevitability of oncoming autumn, and DeForest could find no better way to spend it but in solitude and away from the busy streets.
If he ever was to die, he would prefer to die like this — feeling peaceful in the sunlight, among vivid shards of green.
As he woke, the church's dark edges were already touched by red. The sight always excited him at some very thin level, and he could never pinpoint why. He had seen so many fires by now, so which those brims of light reminded him of?
The twilight grew stronger with the setting sun, and all the colours became muffled, leaving it for shadows to be honorary defined and completely naked to the sight of outer world that shone upon the premises with billions of watchful lights.
Something was different about this day. Mind you, every day was different to DeForest, who had had his lion's share of time and still couldn't call himself well-nourished, but still...
There was this sensation of impending... let's say, continuity. However odd it sounded, it actually felt like a solid peace with intent to split into several uneven chunks. And it would all happen in a blink of an eye, of course.
Suddenly, De felt a pang of long lost longing, so foreign and familiar to him at the same time. It got better of him, crawling inside and grasping at the base, calling back to those times he had never thought of settling anywhere for long.
DeForest walked into the night to calm himself, not realising it was Rein that called to him, inviting, in the desperate moment of shaman's need.
The river ran free, the stars and moonlight in its warm embrace. De took a deep breath, letting the wet air in, and shook his head. He wouldn't find here the one he hoped to find.
He kicked the water with the sole of his boot, frustrated by the hovering greatness of the thing to come. He already knew he would face it alone.
"Where are you again, you rascal..."
There was no reason not to be honest with himself. 'Alone' at this very moment frightened him much more than any wars and catastrophes he had ever witnessed.
DeForest turned back and walked from the river bank up to the forest like park, heading home.
He was yet to find his way there.
@темы:
A journey of life and death,
If I were your vampire