Back into the habit...

[Xaious, Master of Time]

Palms sweaty, fingers interlocked. His form hunched over, eyes shifting around the room, mind racing. Visions playing through his mind, his eyes beholding all and seeing nothing. Lone and salty, a single tear sped to his chin, waiting for its brethen who could not come. The lump in his throat ached, his stomach would accept no food, no water could satiate his parched throat. No words could express, no song could sooth, no though would console this painful agony. He had a week, and it was going to kill him.

 

--In his mind he saw many things. The potted flower grew, lived many moons. The air was ablaze and the ground was moist. Cobwebs covered the frozen monument, erected with a passion that would not die. Civilians passing by, Near random disappearances of the faceless numbers. The rain ran red, mislead emotions apparent made. From the gray stone of the iced figure grew a single flower, an azalea like none other. Spotted as a leopard, it came to stay. Slowly warming, the figure turned, it's head lifting. Blank face, yet she smiled.

 

He rubbed his eyes, looked upward. Hope now had he, yet still ache he did. Yet murder still the seemed would be. Six days left now, yet only imaginings to help him. A ringing missed, it's purpose more disheartening. No work to occupy his mind, no saving but music and thoughts, conspiring against him. His eye wiped he, conspiratorial drops attempting escape. Rubbing his shoulder, he returned to contemplations.

 

--A candle was lit, the lighter beside a greater flame. Smelling of gas was the room, a cloud of smoke fuzzing vision. on a bed lay a figure aglow, dreaming sweetly of her love she could not see. In comfort she was truly, a sight of beauty lain among the unusual azaleas. The smile who had her face warmed heart and soul, her beauty stealing heart. Around her slept a many kittens, some though awake, bacon wrapped midesctions and playing.

 

He smiled, the conspirators threatened, and felt better yet he did. Heart a beat did skip, a feeling better sigh. Survive felt he now could, his dream he knew would be. A smile upon his face, better feeling true, his dream he felt to continue.

 

--This time saw he her, her full beauty he beheld. In the loveliest dress of black and velvet, in her hands a chocolate rose, hair curled and red as her lips, yet eyes were blue and smiling was she. Forward did she come, and great was the joy sight gave. Carried with her a small orange kitten, purring softly in her hand, and followed was she by an incredible horse noir. To him came she and smiled, pearly whites through which softly did she speak. The pleasing voice love saturated, yet words no recollection.

 

Leaning back he sighed. He would make it. One week, that was it. Just one week, and then home she'd be. He hoped right he was: Survival should be simple. Though the pain felt he had, for him was not his worry, but for her. Dreaming of the other, both would be, this talkless week, and ever after, until the day of happy ever after. But for now, he would need to get up, quench a thirst, even study and take notes for one enjoyment which differed. His day looked up from where it was, and he smiled.

Always did he, worry too much.

 

 

 

______________

So, what ya think?

Edited May 30, 2005 by Xaious, Master of Time

[Wyvern]

Nice story, Xaious. :-) I thought that the descriptions worked very well throughout it, and maintained a tone of desperation up until the change at the end. I also really liked the indirect manner that the protagonist's concerns are dealt with, as the visions were a very interesting twist. I found the opening paragraph of the piece particularly engaging, and thought the initial image of his position of despair worked very well.

 

In terms of potential improvements: while the protagonist's concern and anxiety for the woman became apparent over the course of the narrative, I was uncertain of why he was so concerned about her. "Worrying too much" is a decent excuse, but I'd imagine there must be some sort of fear causing the protagonist to have these visions, and I didn't pick up on what it was exactly. One way to improve this might be to offer interactions with the woman in his visions rather than just describing her, as her character is essential to understanding what is causing the protagonist to worry. Also, while I appreciated the bold experimentation with language, I wasn't too big a fan of the alternative phrasing of "he" in sentences (i.e: "His eye wiped he, conspiratorial drops attempting escape"). Too Yoda-like for my tastes. ;-)

 

Very nicely done overall, Xaious. It's nice to see you posting again.

[Xaious, Master of Time]

Ah, yes. I was..having a bit of difficulty in deciding how to say that his love was away for the week, and he'd be unable to talk to her for that time without saying it.....yeah.And that he worries too much because he knows she'll be ok.