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| 17 Jun 2013 01:15 PM |
Here's a story of mine thus far:
Having no friends in this world to speak of, and no particular attachment to the village from whence I came, I decided to once and for all leave my home. Where some may have felt some small instance of sorrow or maybe hesitation, I felt nothing. I wonder, what compels people to roam such as I have? Why do we do it? That’s not a question for me, I feel. It’s better left to some wizened old sage, whose perspective is clearer than one such as me. I almost didn’t bother bringing anything, but prudence tempered my eagerness to depart. I packed a knife, some victuals, a worn old hat – but you probably don’t care about that. I can sense you probably want me to get my story started. I’m happy to oblige. I didn’t even try to stick to a path. I had no desire to visit any human habitation, or travel the Great Road. So I struck out, over the endless rice field. Having put a good distance between myself and the village by nightfall, I resolved to sit down on one of the terraces and watch the sunset. The fields of water slowly became sparkling lakes of light. The sun splashed fading beams of light over the world, gradually effacing from this world the memories of daytime. After the sun had slunk languidly under the horizon, the air began to light up with the sounds of night animals. The hum of insects, the hoot of the water owl, the deep, throaty cries of the koi-frog – all had a place in the cacophony of the night. It was while I was sitting on the edge of a terrace, appreciating the beauty of nature I was seized from behind.
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| 17 Jun 2013 01:16 PM |
| Thanks. Care to elaborate? |
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| 17 Jun 2013 01:17 PM |
thats actually really really good
i like the detail in the story
|Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends| |
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