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Triangular..

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Triangular..

Postby Carter » Wed Oct 26, 2016 11:08 am

The First Shine of Winter

A Birdcage Story

The rain was pattering on the ground. There was the holiest of wishing wells, poised just below the shadows of the pavilion. The truest form of stress this day, at this place, was of the pigeons - hooting, and bobbing their heads, as they looked for chips and bread crumbs amongst the soggy grass.

There was a boy, sitting below the pavilion, within its hugs - yet, not far enough away from the open air to dismiss the splatter of droplets, covering his skin and clothing. He was eating a sandwich. He was humming a simple tune too. He was likening himself to a poor boy, or a shoe shiner, or tambourine busker; because, tambourine was all he could play, after all - and he was smiling about it wryly to himself. Just to think of it. A tambourine player! He was the right sort of chap, for a hoot like that.

Just recently, someone had died. It had been in the papers. A serial killer - a man of such untoward graces that one had to be glad to think of his demise. But, it was still not enough for the boy, he needed more. There were people about, organising for a wedding in the park. The boy wanted those folk in the white clothing, and with their shining roses, to be safe. There was no escaping the slippery shadow of foreboding circumstances. But, the boy wondered, what was the right notion to get all this fuzz out of his mind? Though, the idea of romance - it livened him. He wondered, however, about the bigger picture. When at home, near his fathers hearth, he wondered about his own romance, and the greater romances. What if they were not to be relied upon? What if one of his close lover friends died, how would he feel? It would be the shadow hanging over his own head for another time. Though, he didn’t feel right. There was something peculiar upon the air these days. And, that strange magician. There was a revolution in play - and everyone wanted to know what it was about.

He had once thought evil was the plaything of the disastrous, he had supposed that the lord of the lands, the command of peace, was all there was. Though, this new man. He was the purveyor of the sublime. He rejected peace, in favour of war - and he rejected passion for the subtle decline of life, moving as if through a book of its own. He had created a time machine. There was a way, he said, to return to the beginning and reverse the whole concept of death. The boy knew that some deaths were right, and even though the world had fallen he knew this still - but the man claimed that every death was evil, but necessary, and that one must refuse death always. He claimed that peace was the right way.

This is not making any sense.
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Re: Triangular..

Postby kingbtd » Wed Oct 26, 2016 11:43 pm

You have some good writing chops. I just got a bit lost while reading through it. There's a lot going on. Is the boy a man? Is he a man that wants to become, through the use of a time machine, the boy again? I'm a bit thick sometimes, and it is still only 7:45am here and I've been awake, in front of this computer, for the past two hours. Cheers from Germany!
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Re: Triangular..

Postby Bmat » Thu Oct 27, 2016 7:13 am

I wonder why the last sentence is in the present tense.

This sounds like an interesting prologue. It caught my attention right away. The writing style is pleasant.
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Re: Triangular..

Postby Carter » Thu Oct 27, 2016 9:01 am

Sometimes, I feel l like no matter what I do, letting go is the best thing to do when writing. I need to go over my concepts, but it is all wrong to me. I get it. One is to leettt gooooeeee www
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Re: Triangular..

Postby Ariel » Thu Oct 27, 2016 6:49 pm

You have some interesting ideas. I think with a little work, you could improve this. I find that listening to the right kind of music inspires me.
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Re: Triangular..

Postby Carter » Thu Oct 27, 2016 10:59 pm

Bleaugh..
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