I don't get what you guys mean by lemons... Anyway, here 2 note pads with a bunch of words i just wrote out some weeks ago outta boredom. It was right after i finished playing dead space and was looking up info on Huxley. I didn't use much punctuation or correct grammar. Not to mention i only separated sentences by hitting enter, call me lazy... heh.
Horizon Perch
I look out on to the horizon and i see red
the sun is setting
the surrounding clouds are dyed an orange-red glow along with the sky
this stretches over as far as the eye can see
from my vantage point the depo lights and exaughst can be made out across the desolate ruins of the un-named city
I scan my view again
the buildings are all in ruin
massive stone archs and leaning towers leave me with a sense of awe and sadness
rubble and wrecked vehicles lay scattered accross the ruined streets.
i turn to my com device and check the time
1 hour till my shift is over
depos 4 through 23 seem to be in working fine as i check the com link again
i am bored
yet i am not restless
i can't afford to be
as i turn from my perch to my opposite direction a new kind of wasteland lay stretched before me
scorched earth, burnt trees, dark waters, smoke billows from the crashed transports and battle mechs.
it is an eerie feeling to be on the edge of two sides of a wastland
one side is a ruin of metal and machine
the other is a ruin of nature and machine
why do i have to guard this post anyway? i ask my self for the thousanth time partly out of annoyance and partly out of boredom.
what is the point of protecting these ... i stop to take my words back in my mind.
i heave another sigh in a long line of sighs
my com link sizzles and static noise is produced through the speakers
"hey Lark its almost time for my shift, im heading over to your tower, be there in 20"
i sigh yet again.
when ever i get that messege i just have to sigh
for that means another day has passed with me sitting at this perch
and i have to log in my observations via the comlink yet again
dont get me wrong, i dont want trouble
the battle that raged for a few months to the south of the city tells me not to hope for conflict like some green recruit.
i've lost alot of friends... and my wife to th.... no its not good to dwell on the past.
i have to focus on my work to make sure the ones living in the ruins below dont follow the same fate.
i turn my comlink's data encryption on, when i get this eerie feeling.
its the same kind of feeling i had when ...
i quickly turn to the wasteland and notice a gleam on the horizon
as the sun sets the gleams become clearer and they seem to stretch from end to end of my horizon.
my jaw drops, and my eyes dry up.
i take my scope and quickly scan the lights on the horizon
i drop my scope
i tumble towards the comlink and hit the alarm
i call the adjacent towers to tell them to confirm what i saw, to confirm that its possible that we're all doomed.
i slump back into my chair
theres no way... we can... win this ... not with that coming this way.
my wife, was the vanguard unit commander to the south on patrol when she and her team came accross the polutech artillery battery equipments setting up in the 11th
the response of the top brass to her coms for support were to slow to react, that it took the first few volleys of the batteries to beat the defences into action.
i was away on a campain to the neighboring city... where my superiors plan of attack was leaked and i took the blame somehow since i was leading the charge.
how funny this war is. full irony full of hate and despair every second and every which way you look.
With this i can at least see my wife again, will she greet me with a smile? or will she call me a coward? the latter is probably the case i guess.
i sit back and watch the tiny dots of light blanket the skys with streams of fire.
i think how pretty.
The house on a sphere. The woman of Paint.
the house is brown
and is fat
and far
from where i used to live
it is a white house
with a yellow door
and a black roof
with flowers on the lawn
or is that weeds?
there are babies running and crawling on the lawn
and there is a woman standing at the front gate
she waves to me as i watch her from my door
its a bit surreal
there are no other houses on opposite ends of my house
and the lands on either direction seem to bend downward
as if i were living on a small sphere
the woman has now stopped waving and has approached my door
as i look at her she is shorter than me and is very beautiful
as i look past her to see what the babies were doing
i find that they have vanished
the womans eyes glaze over and she falls to her knees
i wonder what i should do
should i bring her inside?
should i leaver her at my door?
should i stand and stare?
i choose to bring her inside
i lay her on the couch in the living room
her skin is turning pale
i find a blanket for her and tuck her in
i decide to make something hot for her to eat
i open a can of soup and heat it in a pot
i go back to the living room
she's still on my couch and i watch her face
it seems as if she has stopped breathing
i go back to the kitchen to get the soup
i go back to the living room to feed the woman
as i put the spoon to her lips her eyes open
i drop the spoon on her chest
for what i see supprised me
both her eyes are red, redder than the rose like flowers on my lawn
redder than the apples i passed on my way to this house
at the center of her red eyes are black, deep, yet beautiful dots
her eyes watch me
i gaze at her eyes
when i look away i find that i've dropped the bowl
i rush to the kitchen to get something to clean the soup off the floor
towel in hand i turn to the door way to the kitchen
the woman stands there with her eyes on the towel
she stares at the towel
when i turn to look at the towel i find that it is wet
and it has turned red
atfirst glance it looks like the towel is dyed in blood
but i smell the strong sent of paint emenating from the towel
paint?
why paint?
i turn to where the woman was standing and i drop the towel
she is no longer wearing the coat and jeans she was wearing when she fell on the doorstep
shes not wearing much, only a wet red towel that smelt of paint around her waste
i cant take my eyes of her eyes
i am supprised at myself, suppriesd that i stare not at her incredibly beautiful body but her eyes
she watches me
i watch her
she approaches to where im standing
i find that i cannot remove my gaze from her eyes, not even to blink
for some strange reason her strides seem slow, very slow...
too slow...
slower than the old dog i passed on the street
slower than the movements of the moon and sun
slower than the tears from my eyes
tears?
am i crying?
my eyes hurt
i cant blink
when i return to my senses im on the floor my eyes still locked on the woman's
and my head is in her lap
my head feels wet
the paint.
why paint?
