Hmm, now I'm suspecting you're watching M Night Shyamalan films. That's going to make the haiku challenge tomorrow... interesting, since it looks like you'll be going for the Village next!
Unstoppable The yellow smoke folded over itself, looking distressingly like Paris was being consumed by a tidal wave and out of the coils and spirals arose another city. It look Lord Derby longer to identify this one as he'd spent much less time there, but as the domes coalesced he realised it was Vatican City. Faithless whispered the dry, papery voice of the King. There was something flat about the tone, almost mindless. Rebirth of faith. Herald. Prophet. Chosen one. "Did I mention that my doctor wants to see me? I'm not fit to travel long distances at the moment," said Lord Derby. To his own ears he sounded insane: making feeble excuses to an invisible being that could carve cities from smoke while hunting in the darkness for a way out. "And I'm really not very convincing when I talk to people." The smoke fell apart again, and when it formed up once more Lord Derby frowned, puzzled. He was clearly looking at an island, but it wasn't one he recognized. Rebirth whispered the King. Cradle, incubator. Hagar Qim. Foreordained, predicted, invited. Mandated. Unstoppable. "Is that the time already? I feel I've overstayed my welcome terribly." The smoke churned, seeming to boil now. Lord Derby took a step backwards, feeling very unsteady when the smoke seemed not to recede. He lifted his hands instinctively, and the smoke wound around them. Behind him, or maybe to his left, he couldn't decide, there was a sound like rock smashing against rock. "Faithless miscreant! Liar!" The voice was familiar but hard to place, and then he had it. "Lady Grace," he said. The moment of hope that had risen in his chest turned acid like heartburn. There but for the grace of me goes she whispered the King's voice. The itching inside Lord Derby's head was becoming unbearable. The smoke twined tighter around his fingers, exerting a light pressure as though he were clutching at snow. "Turk!" "I think I may have upset her," said Lord Derby. "I really should go and talk to my doctor, you know." The laughter was like the fluttering of butterfly wings against lips and eyelids: a sensually unpleasant throbbing that started at the skin and somehow sank bone-deep. Lord Derby shivered. What enters, leaves. What left, returns His hands felt wet suddenly, like the snow had melted, and the yellow smoke had disappeared. In front of him there was a sudden patch of greyness, and he moved towards it, unwilling to have any point of navigation lost to him. It became rectangular, and then revealed itself as a doorway to an antechamber. As he stepped through it closed behind him, cutting off a fresh cry of "Turk!" that sounded much louder.
Greg - eh, I think I ended up with a little three day theme set here. Did I got beyond that? No, it looks like I didn't, as my attention returned to the elections here.
Woo, you had me worried when the smoke grabbed hold of Derby's fingers. I'm sure the danger has not fully passed yet, but things seem to be improving for Derby at least.
2 comments:
Hmm, now I'm suspecting you're watching M Night Shyamalan films. That's going to make the haiku challenge tomorrow... interesting, since it looks like you'll be going for the Village next!
Unstoppable
The yellow smoke folded over itself, looking distressingly like Paris was being consumed by a tidal wave and out of the coils and spirals arose another city. It look Lord Derby longer to identify this one as he'd spent much less time there, but as the domes coalesced he realised it was Vatican City.
Faithless whispered the dry, papery voice of the King. There was something flat about the tone, almost mindless. Rebirth of faith. Herald. Prophet. Chosen one.
"Did I mention that my doctor wants to see me? I'm not fit to travel long distances at the moment," said Lord Derby. To his own ears he sounded insane: making feeble excuses to an invisible being that could carve cities from smoke while hunting in the darkness for a way out. "And I'm really not very convincing when I talk to people."
The smoke fell apart again, and when it formed up once more Lord Derby frowned, puzzled. He was clearly looking at an island, but it wasn't one he recognized. Rebirth whispered the King. Cradle, incubator. Hagar Qim. Foreordained, predicted, invited. Mandated. Unstoppable.
"Is that the time already? I feel I've overstayed my welcome terribly."
The smoke churned, seeming to boil now. Lord Derby took a step backwards, feeling very unsteady when the smoke seemed not to recede. He lifted his hands instinctively, and the smoke wound around them.
Behind him, or maybe to his left, he couldn't decide, there was a sound like rock smashing against rock.
"Faithless miscreant! Liar!" The voice was familiar but hard to place, and then he had it.
"Lady Grace," he said. The moment of hope that had risen in his chest turned acid like heartburn.
There but for the grace of me goes she whispered the King's voice. The itching inside Lord Derby's head was becoming unbearable. The smoke twined tighter around his fingers, exerting a light pressure as though he were clutching at snow.
"Turk!"
"I think I may have upset her," said Lord Derby. "I really should go and talk to my doctor, you know."
The laughter was like the fluttering of butterfly wings against lips and eyelids: a sensually unpleasant throbbing that started at the skin and somehow sank bone-deep. Lord Derby shivered.
What enters, leaves. What left, returns
His hands felt wet suddenly, like the snow had melted, and the yellow smoke had disappeared. In front of him there was a sudden patch of greyness, and he moved towards it, unwilling to have any point of navigation lost to him. It became rectangular, and then revealed itself as a doorway to an antechamber. As he stepped through it closed behind him, cutting off a fresh cry of "Turk!" that sounded much louder.
Greg - eh, I think I ended up with a little three day theme set here. Did I got beyond that? No, it looks like I didn't, as my attention returned to the elections here.
Woo, you had me worried when the smoke grabbed hold of Derby's fingers. I'm sure the danger has not fully passed yet, but things seem to be improving for Derby at least.
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