julian94
05-22-2011, 08:20 AM
*More than one reading may be needed in order to understand some bit of it as the storyline is very vague. Sorry about that. Please enjoy (or not)!
All light starts to disappear as darkness devours everything on its path with death on its trail. The invisible becomes seeable and the visible became lost to this endless aria of the night, with the only hope on finding its way back is through the streetlights that illuminate every other space of the street and the occasional circular twins of light that travel through the road in a seemingly straight manner then vanishes as the bus drives away from the lane. Its engine emits a sound that resonates throughout the street, killing voices of the cicada whose echoes once filled the Earth with melodies and songs, reminding old people of their childhood and scaring children with their unearthly sound. Now, this is a long forgotten memory. Mechanical noise soothes the spirit; their vibrations appease the human mind as they know that the sound came from a vehicle that passed a while ago.
Amidst all of this was an old man at a bus stop. Short and stubby, he is feared by many and respected by others. His face has this permanent sort of scowl that if corrected would destroy the harmonious symmetry of his own face.
He was a devout religious, a frightening traditionalist who rejected changes and did this with a seemingly inherent predisposition to negate the very idea. Who could blame him anyway? His childhood taken away by the very change that society thinks is right for the people. The vast grassland where he used to play is now filled with buildings of perfect edges; the sweet melody of childhood now replaced with buzzes, an auditory mixture of screeching sounds between humans and machines. He still looks at this scenery with disgust and anger on his face as he compares the present from its past with bitter resentment.
As he waits for the bus, he takes a cigarette from the open mouthed pack in his left pocket. Then, he reaches for his lighter; a classic, silver western Zippo. Smoke from his mouth rises and eventually disappears in the atmosphere, flying to the dark, starless sky.
Meanwhile, a shapeless figure emerges from the end of the street; where exists a roundabout linking the four streets together.
Walking or floating, the entity heads off towards the heart of the street, alternating its appearance as light appears and disappears… Black on the lighted spots and white in darkness, following a rigid pattern or else this will disrupt the very balance, the very thing that traps this being in this lane.
Children who would see this spirit would flee with fear, running away as fast as possible to their parents to tell them the story. The latter obviously disregard their child’s own voice as this was the way, calmly saying “it will be ok.”
On the other hand, the adults just simply refused to see the being despite their open eyes, blaming the hallucination on their fatigue, a manifestation of their own stress and a symptom of job burnout. The entity disappears as soon as the adult walks past it and goes back to the starting point for this was the rule.
However in the eyes of the old man, it was nor a ghost or a personification of his stress. Black pants and white t-shirt, the entity has taken form of the gardener, the man in the grassland where the old man used to play as a kid. He would always be there, sweeping away dead leaves, smiling and happy of his job until disappeared… as grass were replaced with blocks of sand and the playground with large trucks carrying clay and cement. The gardener was not needed anymore as his function is now replaced with machines. To the old man, this is a forgotten memory. Now, the only thing he remembered was the happiness he had and the bitterness of industrialization.
The man walking was no one to him, not someone he knew but he felt something odd, evoking a sense of nostalgia, a longing for something unknown and invisible to him. The entity walks towards the bus stop and stop abruptly to the other extreme end of the seat, opposite to the old man. There was total silence; darkness surrounds the two beings as the roof of the bus stop restrains light from flowing inside the closed space.
As wind swept the cold night, the full moon shines brightly on the night sky without a care to the world. Its only function is to illuminate this land in a moment of total darkness. Without this, beings would die. With no light to guide their path, the darkness would reveal their true soul. This, the entity knew very well.
The entity looks back and forth at the old man to catch his attention. Eventually the old man gets this and looks at the entity, his frown visible as he turns.
“What do you want?” The old man said with his rough voice.
The middle-aged man then answers with some sort of sign language. His index and finger of his right hand forming a closed “V” sign as he moves it in front of his mouth which then forms into a circular shape as he blows in the air.
Interpreting the signal, the old man takes a cigarette from his left pocket and gives it to the other man. The entity bows to show his feeling of acknowledgement, his face smiling as he takes the cigarette. However, this was not enough as the entity waves his hand to catch the old man’s attention once again.
“What now?” In a tone that seemed as if he is annoyed. Truth was that he wanted to talk.
The other man, with the cigarette in his mouth does yet again a sort of sign language. It is as if he did not know how to talk. He forms a “thumbs up” sign with his left hand. Then, this thumb starts to wriggle, up and down, as if it were pressing something like how cartoon characters detonate a dynamite with the press of button.
The old man scratches his head and says “Don’t you know how to talk or what?”,
The entity remains silent.
Sensing awkwardness, the old man then hastily takes his lighter from his right pocket and hands it to the entity. Now instead of a simple bow or a smile, the man, unable to contain his happiness, as he will now be freed, rushes to the old man and shakes both of his hands, then hugs him. The old man, not knowing of what he has done then produces a smile, wondering how long this guy must not have smoked. The entity swirls and dances with uncontainable happiness inside him. Then he looks to the old man, his smile and eyes widen, fixated at his savior. The old man appreciates the feeling but at the same feels uneasy by this, scared of his mate’s actions.
Then something happens… something the old man’s religion or beliefs cannot explain. The gardener transforms into his earth-bound form, a being whose true form is covered by the light shining around it. The cigarette falls on the ground and the entity presses the lighter against him with some invisible force. As the yellow fire burns through him, a part the light covering the entity disappears as it becomes covered with darkness. The old man, retreats from this horrifying view but at the same time curious of what is happening. His eyes are fixated on the burning spirit as darkness starts to creep. The shining entity then produces a screeching sound that now one seems to hear but the old man as it rises. The old man covers his ears and eyes as dust and sound overwhelm his senses. The shining entity is now free; its soul is relieved with the burden of humanity. Whispering a “thank you” to the old man, the celestial being vanishes into thin air, swooshing into the starry sky and disappears, forming a black dust that envelopes, not only the street but the whole town.
The man rubs his eyes and opens them; ignorant of what he has done. With disbelief, he walks away from the bus stop to the grassland where he used to play, feelings of sudden nostalgia rushing through him.
There, the unearthly scenery surprises him beyond the immanent reality. The buildings are gone and heaps of stacked corpses now cover the whole grassland. From young to old, men and women, all kinds of humans were there. Their open eyes were empty and cold. There was no blood in the sight to suggest a mass murder, only heaps of soulless, naked flesh everywhere. Roots start to grow from their bodies and animals start to appear, some of which were pets of these vessels. They gather around this grassland, looking for a way to satisfy their hunger.
With horror in his eyes, the old man cannot help but feel happy.
All light starts to disappear as darkness devours everything on its path with death on its trail. The invisible becomes seeable and the visible became lost to this endless aria of the night, with the only hope on finding its way back is through the streetlights that illuminate every other space of the street and the occasional circular twins of light that travel through the road in a seemingly straight manner then vanishes as the bus drives away from the lane. Its engine emits a sound that resonates throughout the street, killing voices of the cicada whose echoes once filled the Earth with melodies and songs, reminding old people of their childhood and scaring children with their unearthly sound. Now, this is a long forgotten memory. Mechanical noise soothes the spirit; their vibrations appease the human mind as they know that the sound came from a vehicle that passed a while ago.
Amidst all of this was an old man at a bus stop. Short and stubby, he is feared by many and respected by others. His face has this permanent sort of scowl that if corrected would destroy the harmonious symmetry of his own face.
He was a devout religious, a frightening traditionalist who rejected changes and did this with a seemingly inherent predisposition to negate the very idea. Who could blame him anyway? His childhood taken away by the very change that society thinks is right for the people. The vast grassland where he used to play is now filled with buildings of perfect edges; the sweet melody of childhood now replaced with buzzes, an auditory mixture of screeching sounds between humans and machines. He still looks at this scenery with disgust and anger on his face as he compares the present from its past with bitter resentment.
As he waits for the bus, he takes a cigarette from the open mouthed pack in his left pocket. Then, he reaches for his lighter; a classic, silver western Zippo. Smoke from his mouth rises and eventually disappears in the atmosphere, flying to the dark, starless sky.
Meanwhile, a shapeless figure emerges from the end of the street; where exists a roundabout linking the four streets together.
Walking or floating, the entity heads off towards the heart of the street, alternating its appearance as light appears and disappears… Black on the lighted spots and white in darkness, following a rigid pattern or else this will disrupt the very balance, the very thing that traps this being in this lane.
Children who would see this spirit would flee with fear, running away as fast as possible to their parents to tell them the story. The latter obviously disregard their child’s own voice as this was the way, calmly saying “it will be ok.”
On the other hand, the adults just simply refused to see the being despite their open eyes, blaming the hallucination on their fatigue, a manifestation of their own stress and a symptom of job burnout. The entity disappears as soon as the adult walks past it and goes back to the starting point for this was the rule.
However in the eyes of the old man, it was nor a ghost or a personification of his stress. Black pants and white t-shirt, the entity has taken form of the gardener, the man in the grassland where the old man used to play as a kid. He would always be there, sweeping away dead leaves, smiling and happy of his job until disappeared… as grass were replaced with blocks of sand and the playground with large trucks carrying clay and cement. The gardener was not needed anymore as his function is now replaced with machines. To the old man, this is a forgotten memory. Now, the only thing he remembered was the happiness he had and the bitterness of industrialization.
The man walking was no one to him, not someone he knew but he felt something odd, evoking a sense of nostalgia, a longing for something unknown and invisible to him. The entity walks towards the bus stop and stop abruptly to the other extreme end of the seat, opposite to the old man. There was total silence; darkness surrounds the two beings as the roof of the bus stop restrains light from flowing inside the closed space.
As wind swept the cold night, the full moon shines brightly on the night sky without a care to the world. Its only function is to illuminate this land in a moment of total darkness. Without this, beings would die. With no light to guide their path, the darkness would reveal their true soul. This, the entity knew very well.
The entity looks back and forth at the old man to catch his attention. Eventually the old man gets this and looks at the entity, his frown visible as he turns.
“What do you want?” The old man said with his rough voice.
The middle-aged man then answers with some sort of sign language. His index and finger of his right hand forming a closed “V” sign as he moves it in front of his mouth which then forms into a circular shape as he blows in the air.
Interpreting the signal, the old man takes a cigarette from his left pocket and gives it to the other man. The entity bows to show his feeling of acknowledgement, his face smiling as he takes the cigarette. However, this was not enough as the entity waves his hand to catch the old man’s attention once again.
“What now?” In a tone that seemed as if he is annoyed. Truth was that he wanted to talk.
The other man, with the cigarette in his mouth does yet again a sort of sign language. It is as if he did not know how to talk. He forms a “thumbs up” sign with his left hand. Then, this thumb starts to wriggle, up and down, as if it were pressing something like how cartoon characters detonate a dynamite with the press of button.
The old man scratches his head and says “Don’t you know how to talk or what?”,
The entity remains silent.
Sensing awkwardness, the old man then hastily takes his lighter from his right pocket and hands it to the entity. Now instead of a simple bow or a smile, the man, unable to contain his happiness, as he will now be freed, rushes to the old man and shakes both of his hands, then hugs him. The old man, not knowing of what he has done then produces a smile, wondering how long this guy must not have smoked. The entity swirls and dances with uncontainable happiness inside him. Then he looks to the old man, his smile and eyes widen, fixated at his savior. The old man appreciates the feeling but at the same feels uneasy by this, scared of his mate’s actions.
Then something happens… something the old man’s religion or beliefs cannot explain. The gardener transforms into his earth-bound form, a being whose true form is covered by the light shining around it. The cigarette falls on the ground and the entity presses the lighter against him with some invisible force. As the yellow fire burns through him, a part the light covering the entity disappears as it becomes covered with darkness. The old man, retreats from this horrifying view but at the same time curious of what is happening. His eyes are fixated on the burning spirit as darkness starts to creep. The shining entity then produces a screeching sound that now one seems to hear but the old man as it rises. The old man covers his ears and eyes as dust and sound overwhelm his senses. The shining entity is now free; its soul is relieved with the burden of humanity. Whispering a “thank you” to the old man, the celestial being vanishes into thin air, swooshing into the starry sky and disappears, forming a black dust that envelopes, not only the street but the whole town.
The man rubs his eyes and opens them; ignorant of what he has done. With disbelief, he walks away from the bus stop to the grassland where he used to play, feelings of sudden nostalgia rushing through him.
There, the unearthly scenery surprises him beyond the immanent reality. The buildings are gone and heaps of stacked corpses now cover the whole grassland. From young to old, men and women, all kinds of humans were there. Their open eyes were empty and cold. There was no blood in the sight to suggest a mass murder, only heaps of soulless, naked flesh everywhere. Roots start to grow from their bodies and animals start to appear, some of which were pets of these vessels. They gather around this grassland, looking for a way to satisfy their hunger.
With horror in his eyes, the old man cannot help but feel happy.