Post by Iodine on Apr 16, 2006 19:07:02 GMT -5
‘Wind, an object feel able but invisible, a swift motion of air through air. To those who don’t question it, wind is simply wind, nothing else. Those who do question it find that wind is simply wind, air currents like water currents, nothing else. You are one or the other; both know the same thing, that wind is simply wind. But then another question arises, “What makes the wind?” some say its gods, some say certain things on the face of the planet. Others say its fans and other man made devices, but that wouldn’t be natural wind, it would be poisoned by mankind. Wind is wild and isn’t meant for capturing, using, and selling. At least that’s what I believe, and what some others say.’
The dark leather bound book slowly closed, making a soft tap when the pages were finished colliding with each other. The binding was faded to a creamy brown in select spots, and thin tan cracks from age and use were clear as well as they traveled through the off-white lettering, forcing small chips of the paint to fall from the no longer smooth surface.
A pale hand drifted over the cover, pulling slightly on the long braided piece of fabric that served as a book mark. A small breeze danced through the trees, and picked up some of the brown and orange leaves that had already let go early this season, autumn. After feeling the small breeze, the girl ran her hand over the soft leather cover again, holding her hand in place in the center of the book. With the other hand that was free she dragged her index finger down the binding as if to comfort the book, as if it were something alive and fragile, so fragile that that small breeze could have torn all of its yellowed pages from its binding and scatter them around the world for everyone to read.
“Mathew, don’t you worry, wind will not harm you today, and will never again once we find our master and he restores you to how you were when I first received you.” A small smile took home on the girl’s face, forming her pale pink lips to it. She was speaking to the object even though it made no reply or response to her words. This was no surprise to her, the book never talked back or moved, it was just a book, but still she spoke to it as if it were a pet or child. It even seemed to have a name.
The girl let out a sigh of relief as the wind stopped, “Oh, I got so caught up in writing that blurb that I completely forgot what I was originally going to do.” She flipped open the book and slid her finger across the title page, “Siege Kralyrd .......” she read aloud, her first and middle name were written in fine cursive, but her last name was smudged beyond readable. “Report journal” She added after a moment as her eyes scanned further down the page. A small breeze traveled through the area again, and immediately Siege, as her name seemed to be closed the book and held it to her tightly, “Wind wont harm you, I promised right?”
The dark leather bound book slowly closed, making a soft tap when the pages were finished colliding with each other. The binding was faded to a creamy brown in select spots, and thin tan cracks from age and use were clear as well as they traveled through the off-white lettering, forcing small chips of the paint to fall from the no longer smooth surface.
A pale hand drifted over the cover, pulling slightly on the long braided piece of fabric that served as a book mark. A small breeze danced through the trees, and picked up some of the brown and orange leaves that had already let go early this season, autumn. After feeling the small breeze, the girl ran her hand over the soft leather cover again, holding her hand in place in the center of the book. With the other hand that was free she dragged her index finger down the binding as if to comfort the book, as if it were something alive and fragile, so fragile that that small breeze could have torn all of its yellowed pages from its binding and scatter them around the world for everyone to read.
“Mathew, don’t you worry, wind will not harm you today, and will never again once we find our master and he restores you to how you were when I first received you.” A small smile took home on the girl’s face, forming her pale pink lips to it. She was speaking to the object even though it made no reply or response to her words. This was no surprise to her, the book never talked back or moved, it was just a book, but still she spoke to it as if it were a pet or child. It even seemed to have a name.
The girl let out a sigh of relief as the wind stopped, “Oh, I got so caught up in writing that blurb that I completely forgot what I was originally going to do.” She flipped open the book and slid her finger across the title page, “Siege Kralyrd .......” she read aloud, her first and middle name were written in fine cursive, but her last name was smudged beyond readable. “Report journal” She added after a moment as her eyes scanned further down the page. A small breeze traveled through the area again, and immediately Siege, as her name seemed to be closed the book and held it to her tightly, “Wind wont harm you, I promised right?”
