paperastronaut
02-05-2011, 03:52 AM
Crooked yellow teeth smiled at me as I walked down the cracked and broken roadway. Within the shadows of the orange trees that grew thickly on either side of the ancient interstate I could see makeshift shacks, crudely constructed from the bones of ancient trucks and automobiles that used to frequent this road, the bright green leaves did a fine job of masking the horror of the roadside ghetto. Dirty little children chipped away at the aged asphalt, they climbed to the highest branches of the citrus trees picking the still green fruit barely bothering to watch me as I walked the weed eaten road.
Those crooked yellow teeth were still grinning at me, wispy tallowed hair, and grease streaked face, the man was tall and thin. In his long arms he held what looked like an ancient Russian assault rifle, around his waist was a leather belt with a picket fence made up of long-rifle casings, another section of this golden fence looped up and over his shoulder, he had a short knife tied around his leg and a crowbar hanging from a piece of webbing on his back. The man looked like he had been raised by wolves, meaner than mean, but like I said he was at this moment smiling at me...
With a voice that sounded like a summer rain in an aspen grove, the gaunt gun wielding man said; "what’s the purpose of your visit to Obsidian? Business or pleasure?"
To which I replied “I always take my coffee black…” then I took off running through a twisted ally of orange trees, dust rising over the leaves behind me, little kids wide eye’s following me as birds scattered above my head... then a sound I knew would come, the rain like patter of the tallowed mans voice rose with the heat of the day, crashing into the oncoming wind, it grew into a storm, then resurrected a peal of thunder… “I’m coming for you sonny, you’d best be long winded!”
My feet pounded the ancient orchard dirt, I crashed through overgrown and fallen branches, the thunder grew behind me, and I knew that soon I’d be dead, actually… death would be the best option if I was caught, I don’t want to think about the range of possibilities my fate could span.
But at that last moment before the storm overtook be and dragged me to hell, something surprising happened, a head looked at me from behind an old rotting orange tree, following the head was a torso and arms, the arms held a rifle, the rifle was pointed at me!
I threw my future corpse to the side as shots rang clear, three bullets in quick succession passed over my head, thee heavy thuds silenced the storm that had just lately been racing towards me…
That was my first encounter with Abraham, he lowered his hand and pulled me up from the dust, “that was a bit close” was all he said… I sputtered an exhausted thank-you and asked him who, and what he was… “I’m a jungle fighter he replied, I’m one of the jungle cohort, we stand for equality and believe that only through cooperational architecture will the new peace be achieved”… he paused, and then pointed to the rotting orange tree, “see those ants”, he said, “they can achieve great things, look at the work they accomplish, they are infinitely better at living in this world than you or I am, but what makes us special, what gives us hope, is the fact that we have a hope, we can create what is of the mind and build it into reality, and the thoughts in the collective mind of the jungle cohort are beyond the imagination, in fact they will be our worlds true salvation” ...
With that he left me standing in the forest… the tallowed man lying their besides me, groaning and bleeding in the dirt and leaves… beside him the ants gathered food from the fallen fruit of the orange tree… then with a rush, it started to rain…
Those crooked yellow teeth were still grinning at me, wispy tallowed hair, and grease streaked face, the man was tall and thin. In his long arms he held what looked like an ancient Russian assault rifle, around his waist was a leather belt with a picket fence made up of long-rifle casings, another section of this golden fence looped up and over his shoulder, he had a short knife tied around his leg and a crowbar hanging from a piece of webbing on his back. The man looked like he had been raised by wolves, meaner than mean, but like I said he was at this moment smiling at me...
With a voice that sounded like a summer rain in an aspen grove, the gaunt gun wielding man said; "what’s the purpose of your visit to Obsidian? Business or pleasure?"
To which I replied “I always take my coffee black…” then I took off running through a twisted ally of orange trees, dust rising over the leaves behind me, little kids wide eye’s following me as birds scattered above my head... then a sound I knew would come, the rain like patter of the tallowed mans voice rose with the heat of the day, crashing into the oncoming wind, it grew into a storm, then resurrected a peal of thunder… “I’m coming for you sonny, you’d best be long winded!”
My feet pounded the ancient orchard dirt, I crashed through overgrown and fallen branches, the thunder grew behind me, and I knew that soon I’d be dead, actually… death would be the best option if I was caught, I don’t want to think about the range of possibilities my fate could span.
But at that last moment before the storm overtook be and dragged me to hell, something surprising happened, a head looked at me from behind an old rotting orange tree, following the head was a torso and arms, the arms held a rifle, the rifle was pointed at me!
I threw my future corpse to the side as shots rang clear, three bullets in quick succession passed over my head, thee heavy thuds silenced the storm that had just lately been racing towards me…
That was my first encounter with Abraham, he lowered his hand and pulled me up from the dust, “that was a bit close” was all he said… I sputtered an exhausted thank-you and asked him who, and what he was… “I’m a jungle fighter he replied, I’m one of the jungle cohort, we stand for equality and believe that only through cooperational architecture will the new peace be achieved”… he paused, and then pointed to the rotting orange tree, “see those ants”, he said, “they can achieve great things, look at the work they accomplish, they are infinitely better at living in this world than you or I am, but what makes us special, what gives us hope, is the fact that we have a hope, we can create what is of the mind and build it into reality, and the thoughts in the collective mind of the jungle cohort are beyond the imagination, in fact they will be our worlds true salvation” ...
With that he left me standing in the forest… the tallowed man lying their besides me, groaning and bleeding in the dirt and leaves… beside him the ants gathered food from the fallen fruit of the orange tree… then with a rush, it started to rain…