This is just an insert out of a short story I am working on. I have not finished it yet. Please review and let me know your thoughts. I don't care about grammar at this point, so please comment on the rest.
“Wake Up Slaves” A voice yelled in the distance. The loud thunderous voice should have been enough to wake me up, but it was the subtle brushing of the chains against the wall that awoke my senses. ‘Is this reality?’ I thought as I tugged the cuffs on my wrist away from the wall. The darkness of room began to fade into a dim grey. I could make out the shadows of other cages like mine hanging above an abyss of blackness. I could hear murmurs and whispers, even some directed to me, but I never had felt so alone. A faint whisper from behind me was asking what had happened that I was brought to this place. Hard pressed to remember, I grunted back, “Is this real? Or Am I dead?”
A not so reassuring voice whispered back, “It will all come to you.”
I began to close my eyes and try to figure out what had happened that brought me to such an undesirable place. It then became very clear that I had no clear answer, thought, or conclusion. It was all a blur as if I had been born all over again and had none of my own thoughts. The only thing that was clear to me so far was that I was a slave, or so it seemed. I don’t remember selling myself though and I surely don’t remember being sold. I am owned by no one I thought to myself. This is some sort of mistake.
“FEEDING TIME” a guard yelled from a faint yellow glint toward the door. I couldn’t help but speak out how faint and hungry I felt, but a quick comment from behind me didn’t help provide any hope as the mentioning of the feeding was to the creature in the abyss and not to feed us. I quickly realized what they were feeding it. I’m not much for fantasy…The Abyss…Scary Creature… Seems like an elaborate scare tactic if you ask me, I thought.
The minutes soon turned to hours as I waited. I waited with no anticipation or much thought as to what I would be awaiting. My death? It happens to everyone, why should where or when make a difference. Death is all around us everyday. Why is it that when the cells of my body die every second, that it is no big deal, but death to me as a whole is? Is the small part that my cells play not as valuable as say my heart? This train of thought quickly took over all my other thoughts. Moments, maybe hours went by before I was starved for conversation.
Death:
Adjusting myself in the cage was no easy matter, but I was able to twist enough to somewhat see the shadow of the naysayer behind me. “Sir, what do you know of Death?” I spoke gently to him.
The old man brought his head up to look back at the shadow of me and said, ”Right now, all that I can see is your shadow, You are neither living nor dead to me. So what good are you?”
I didn’t know this old man would be so direct and I felt the need to defend myself, even though he was probably not finished with his thought.
“Are you kidding me, you hardly know me, but you hear my voice, so of course I am alive. You see my shadow, hear the chains, my voice. You know nothing of my character. How can you ponder my goodness by whether I am dead or alive?”
“Fair enough” The old man said “Let us just say that if you are dead, you have no ability to do anything good. Whether you can fathom the idea of doing good, well maybe, but to actually do good is not possible.” My facial gesture couldn’t give away that I thought he was wrong, but before I could speak he continued. “The afterlife. The glorious afterlife. Heaven, where demons fear to tread and Hell, where angels fear to tread. Though neither have any problems with treading on the earth. Though I would speak more on that, I am growing a bit strained…” After a long pause and a hoarse coughing spasm, he began again, “Oh yes, the afterlife. In my earlier days, I regarded a dying flower. I watched it for several weeks and each week it died more and more until there was nothing left. When it had finally died away, I tried to smell it and it wasn’t pleasing. The bees no longer clung to it. It is an amazing thing to watch the next year as it grows up and flowers once again. Do you know why it is important where you die?”
I waited a moment to see if the question was rhetorical and seeing that it wasn’t, I responded, “Well, we are all going to die someday. I’m not too sure where I die is as important as How. I don’t care where as long as it doesn’t hurt to bad.”
“Don’t you think where you die is connected directly with how you die? Take for instance, that same lively flower in the spring. It will stay in that same place all it’s “life” rooted into the ground living and dying on natural order. Now suppose, I pulled it out of the ground and threw it onto the road. Every second from then on would be a slow and painful death. Where it died had a direct impact on how…and when.”
“So are you saying that if I knew how I was going to die, than I would have a greater chance of knowing when and where because of the connection? Or if I knew where I was going to die, I would have a greater chance of knowing how and when? This all sounds like rubbish to me.”
“Indeed, it may all be.”
If nothing else, the conversation was interesting and sort of “out of the ordinary”. A nice illusion to mask the current situation.
Puzzle:
It seemed like an eternity, but finally, I saw the door crack open and hints of yellow light flooded in. I heard someone flip a breaker and my cage started moving closer and closer to the light. It was a feeling like many say they felt as they were dying. Seeing themselves drawn closer to the light through a tunnel. When it finally rested, I was near the door. The guard opened the cage, and took the chains from my wrists. “Come with me” he ordered. If I had the strength I would have pushed the guard back and made a run for it, but I instead, followed his orders. The conversation I had earlier with the old man was coming back to me now. I felt an intense reality that I knew how I was going to die…and when…and where…but I had no idea why. A winding staircase took us down a silo shaped room. Near what seemed like the bottom, I was led into a small room and seated. Everything was black again. The chair was icy cold sending shivers across my back. I was not strapped or latched in, but I still sat there, unable to invoke a desire to flee. I was a prisoner. Anticipation, Anxiety, Fear overwhelmed me. The wait seemed to drag on for days as if I were awaiting on my last number to hit the jackpot. The door slammed shut and I was alone again. To be continued…
©2007 barrenlimb(web handle) & associated owner behind user
“Wake Up Slaves” A voice yelled in the distance. The loud thunderous voice should have been enough to wake me up, but it was the subtle brushing of the chains against the wall that awoke my senses. ‘Is this reality?’ I thought as I tugged the cuffs on my wrist away from the wall. The darkness of room began to fade into a dim grey. I could make out the shadows of other cages like mine hanging above an abyss of blackness. I could hear murmurs and whispers, even some directed to me, but I never had felt so alone. A faint whisper from behind me was asking what had happened that I was brought to this place. Hard pressed to remember, I grunted back, “Is this real? Or Am I dead?”
A not so reassuring voice whispered back, “It will all come to you.”
I began to close my eyes and try to figure out what had happened that brought me to such an undesirable place. It then became very clear that I had no clear answer, thought, or conclusion. It was all a blur as if I had been born all over again and had none of my own thoughts. The only thing that was clear to me so far was that I was a slave, or so it seemed. I don’t remember selling myself though and I surely don’t remember being sold. I am owned by no one I thought to myself. This is some sort of mistake.
“FEEDING TIME” a guard yelled from a faint yellow glint toward the door. I couldn’t help but speak out how faint and hungry I felt, but a quick comment from behind me didn’t help provide any hope as the mentioning of the feeding was to the creature in the abyss and not to feed us. I quickly realized what they were feeding it. I’m not much for fantasy…The Abyss…Scary Creature… Seems like an elaborate scare tactic if you ask me, I thought.
The minutes soon turned to hours as I waited. I waited with no anticipation or much thought as to what I would be awaiting. My death? It happens to everyone, why should where or when make a difference. Death is all around us everyday. Why is it that when the cells of my body die every second, that it is no big deal, but death to me as a whole is? Is the small part that my cells play not as valuable as say my heart? This train of thought quickly took over all my other thoughts. Moments, maybe hours went by before I was starved for conversation.
Death:
Adjusting myself in the cage was no easy matter, but I was able to twist enough to somewhat see the shadow of the naysayer behind me. “Sir, what do you know of Death?” I spoke gently to him.
The old man brought his head up to look back at the shadow of me and said, ”Right now, all that I can see is your shadow, You are neither living nor dead to me. So what good are you?”
I didn’t know this old man would be so direct and I felt the need to defend myself, even though he was probably not finished with his thought.
“Are you kidding me, you hardly know me, but you hear my voice, so of course I am alive. You see my shadow, hear the chains, my voice. You know nothing of my character. How can you ponder my goodness by whether I am dead or alive?”
“Fair enough” The old man said “Let us just say that if you are dead, you have no ability to do anything good. Whether you can fathom the idea of doing good, well maybe, but to actually do good is not possible.” My facial gesture couldn’t give away that I thought he was wrong, but before I could speak he continued. “The afterlife. The glorious afterlife. Heaven, where demons fear to tread and Hell, where angels fear to tread. Though neither have any problems with treading on the earth. Though I would speak more on that, I am growing a bit strained…” After a long pause and a hoarse coughing spasm, he began again, “Oh yes, the afterlife. In my earlier days, I regarded a dying flower. I watched it for several weeks and each week it died more and more until there was nothing left. When it had finally died away, I tried to smell it and it wasn’t pleasing. The bees no longer clung to it. It is an amazing thing to watch the next year as it grows up and flowers once again. Do you know why it is important where you die?”
I waited a moment to see if the question was rhetorical and seeing that it wasn’t, I responded, “Well, we are all going to die someday. I’m not too sure where I die is as important as How. I don’t care where as long as it doesn’t hurt to bad.”
“Don’t you think where you die is connected directly with how you die? Take for instance, that same lively flower in the spring. It will stay in that same place all it’s “life” rooted into the ground living and dying on natural order. Now suppose, I pulled it out of the ground and threw it onto the road. Every second from then on would be a slow and painful death. Where it died had a direct impact on how…and when.”
“So are you saying that if I knew how I was going to die, than I would have a greater chance of knowing when and where because of the connection? Or if I knew where I was going to die, I would have a greater chance of knowing how and when? This all sounds like rubbish to me.”
“Indeed, it may all be.”
If nothing else, the conversation was interesting and sort of “out of the ordinary”. A nice illusion to mask the current situation.
Puzzle:
It seemed like an eternity, but finally, I saw the door crack open and hints of yellow light flooded in. I heard someone flip a breaker and my cage started moving closer and closer to the light. It was a feeling like many say they felt as they were dying. Seeing themselves drawn closer to the light through a tunnel. When it finally rested, I was near the door. The guard opened the cage, and took the chains from my wrists. “Come with me” he ordered. If I had the strength I would have pushed the guard back and made a run for it, but I instead, followed his orders. The conversation I had earlier with the old man was coming back to me now. I felt an intense reality that I knew how I was going to die…and when…and where…but I had no idea why. A winding staircase took us down a silo shaped room. Near what seemed like the bottom, I was led into a small room and seated. Everything was black again. The chair was icy cold sending shivers across my back. I was not strapped or latched in, but I still sat there, unable to invoke a desire to flee. I was a prisoner. Anticipation, Anxiety, Fear overwhelmed me. The wait seemed to drag on for days as if I were awaiting on my last number to hit the jackpot. The door slammed shut and I was alone again. To be continued…
©2007 barrenlimb(web handle) & associated owner behind user
