Saturday, July 17, 2010

“Everything has been prepared for the distribution of bestowments. During our Savior’s fifth year of existence. . .”

     Phantom craters betrayed his identity; the younger man behind the room’s door mentally cringing.
     A throaty swallow following he queried, “Has there been notable progress?”
     Explanation wasn’t necessary. The cracked lips reassured, “Saint has entered Sino.”


     Anxiety washed over the man receiving the news, his youth denying perfect play for his visible team with sacrifice. By active tongue laced with jitters stumbled, “She has been born then? Born? Alive?”
     Peeled eyes concealing irritation accompanied a hand gesture in the visibly nervous man’s direction, “Without disrespect V, you have been allotted years of time specifically assigned for preparation of this day. Pull yourself together and cease  the self-mutilation unless you
’re prepared to wash canvas. Death, what torturous events you let plague. 

     If Saint’s supposed,” the lecturer paused before applying a slick coat of disgust to his next word, “guidance cannot even follow preconceived rules of living that we ourselves have written, how could we find it within our conscience minds to instill said values and expect Her to deliver them thoroughly, within the capital G. . .?” 

4 comments:

Shad B. said...

Are you working on a novel then?

Alexis Voltaire said...

@ Shad B.: Indeed.

Shad B. said...

I'm a failing writer.

There will always be that certain quality to your writings. A certain tone, a mood that drifts in the background of every word and every character. It'll make your writing that much better if you could master it.

JMay said...

Keep up the writing lady :-) It will pay off!