Wednesday, October 21

Chapter m - Draft 1

The curtain falls. This tale has ended for one, and begun for another. It's raining outside. Vaporized clouds of doubt unquestionably decide that it is now time for them to pour on, to pour upon the alchemical fire burning within, raging, seeking solitude and peace, an illusion of serenity that is elusive yet mystic, hidden yet felt in the air. Noone's watching now. But everyone's waiting to find out the outcome of this glorious battle, merely because it does not involve them. Just their undivided attention. Their undivided uncalled-for attention.

Maybe it really is time for a Scene-2.

He picks up his umbrella and readies himself with the thought of waiting out into the rain. The selfless rain. Maybe it might take the load off his mind, distract him from the one thing that's been bothering him all day, making his insides turn over. Himself.

Dusting his anxiety aside, he replaces the thought of consequence with a far simpler one. One that promises to be true and simple. One without any strings attached.

Aller manger. Aller manger. Nous devons manger.
(Go eat. Go eat. We must eat.)

He walks slowly. Today was nice. No bloodshed. No crying faces. No reasons given and no questions answered. The rain gets harder. He doesn't care. If he could, he'd shoot it in the face.

That reminded him. The gun needed cleaning.

Note: In case you're wondering what this is all about, you might want to read this..