Posted in Writober

The Tale

Credit: Deviantart.com
Credit: Deviantart.com

After the cloud of dust filled all that is known, light filled my veins and I opened my eyes. I could see all that had came to be, near and far. A sensation, one that I can only describe as being pleased, came over me and I wept.

In the severity, the fire and the molt, my tears filled the craters and cooled the plains. Once again, I was pleased. My tears mixed with ash and rock and made a new substance, a hybrid of chance and beauty.

Often, I would sit at the shore line and feel the sand in my palms for endless quantities of time. Sometimes, too, I would go for a walk, leaving water to quench the soil.

My loneliness, however, was overwhelming. Why was I there? Why was I the only one?

This confusion would cause great outbursts, and fire once again rained down. The earth trembled and oceans fell. Sharp points rose high to remind me of my anger.

And, yet, one day, as if something had heard my cry, a little creature swam against my ankle in the deep. It grew large, and others soon appeared. There were ones with wings, ones with legs, and many I could only see when I looked very close.

When one, a tall creature, nearly similar to my own stature, spoke to me, I was compelled to remember all that had come from the start.

“What is this place, and why am I here, with you?” it asked of me. “How did this come to be?”

I had so much to tell, but I hesitated. I couldn’t know that the creature would take it well or if it would frighten it. All that I had seen and felt for so long; it was painful and pleasurable, endless splendor that the creature might not understand.

“What is this?” the creature stared to my flesh.

I hadn’t been aware, until that very moment, that the story of my world was imprinted on my skin. The entire story of everything I had endured, all that I had faced and felt over a lifetime uncounted by years. And so I read, and I read… and the creature, enthralled by the tale, repeated it to other creatures.

Now, as I sit, harden like stone near the shore, I can still hear them telling the tale. The beginning and the life, and all that gives purpose.

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Author:

I write because it makes me happy :) Simple enough!

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