Young Writers Society

A unique day! Like no other! Sitting in class and having such an easy choice; to look upon the apple of Adam’s fate or to listen in on the chatter of monkeys bewildering themselves on the usage of stone tools in a post-modern era. Ranting on about the new inventions and discoveries of the times, showing off their abilities like the animals they are, but not us. We are a different breed, we few who gave way to passion instead of cold cruel mathematical thinking. The pitiful, by-heart-studying muppets. How could they know the difference between a song and a poem, a chord, and sound! give them a bone and they will deduce the meaning behind its curvature and the intentions of its creator.

” The bone is curved 14 degrees to the left, the creator must have been a second-grade bone-man! Look at this femur, it has moss on it! This creator is superior!’

It is on such a day of bone detailing and calculating that we made a revolutionary breakthrough. Through the mist and smoke of the old university’s classroom, when I decided to, instead of listening to the mad talks of lesser creatures, turn my gaze towards the west and see behind the mirage of education. Those waves of the dark abyss had me crying out for more! How I longed to run my hands trough that wast sea, to smell the fragrance of her shampoo, oh how the never-ending stream of delight took me! The heart races as the eyes look, and my eyes drank their fill, the heart had beat its drum until it fell out of its socket. Bounced off tables and left shades of red, turning pale white as it fell. It didn’t’ matter that I had no heart, my eyes looked so much that I stopped breathing altogether. Why the need for air! when such curls are as abundant as grains in autumn! when the fabric of the universe seems to be thinning itself while being rubbed against my gaze.

Days passed, nay weeks passed. It became an institution to me, to look upon her head until the ring bellowed and the shift ended. To drink and want, the entire continent could have starved to death and I would give it no notice, for as long as I could look and shift no eye. Give the madman a torch and he will burn the world down. Give a lover someone to love and he will love til love runs dry! No more love for me, I have loved all love away, now what is left? Hearken! Bellow! Cry out against the end of the night! There is no end to love!

Such confidence filled me in those backseats of the rooms, the ramblings of my dear fellow near me were protruding in a drill-like manner, I feel that If my love had limits I might’ve heard him talk once in a while. I heard no words from him, even if his mouth never seemed to close.

Not until a month had gone by, than I realized the new, factual, doubtless truth; She had been disappearing from my eyes! how can such a thing be? I never let my gaze go down, always watchful! And yet the curls seemed to vanish from time to time. Mustering the strength of a thousand chatterers I pondered and calculated on what might be the cause of her vanishing. How can something so suddenly disappear? was my vision clouded and my reflexes dulled? Have the symptoms been showing themselves all this time?

Two burning fuming rock formations came crashing from the skies, two majestic meteorites hurled themselves at me, I stopped in my tracks. She had been looking at me too.