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Thursday, March 26, 2009

Number Seventy Five

Category: Short Story
Sa layed his face upon the shore of the beach, under a strong warming, maroon sky. Splashing over onto the sand, trickling into tiny precious rivers streaming outwards crawling up his skin, was violet ocean water.

Sa pressed his face into the sand, leaving an imprint had he shall ever move.

Around Sa, light beams pierced through the reddening curtain of sky, from heaven they lasered to the ground.

With the planet revolving and the galaxy spinning, the radiating light beams rotated and danced spots all around. It evaporated the water and fluffed it into a scarlet fog, drifting away.

The cones and seeds opened and sprouted under the pure rays of light. When the sky shook and lightning cracked the planet in two. When the water ignited and the light vanished. When darkness brought enmity and danger.

Sa smelled the humid rain vapors from islands on the ocean. Sa was reminded of lives where he was lost, exploring those islands. Of lives when he dove underwater beneath the ice sheets and glaciers in the winter. When he could feel the hidden stones and crystals on the ocean floor, where stars slept on their back and plants moved like aliens.

Sa remembered running out of oxygen and falling alseep, trapped under the ice. He remembered being alive under the triple canopy rainforest and running away from his village. He was approached by a tiger from behind. Sa could only look at it, petrified. The tiger didn't want to eat him, but Sa didn't know that. So when it turned its back to look for its meal, Sa pounced on it.

Someone from his village heard it roar and came to rescue him. It was too bad no one could save the tiger.

Sa remembered being on a beach much like this one. He looked across and saw himself standing on the other side looking back at himself. He tried to swim to the other side and meet himself. But as he approached his mirror-image he blinked and found himself stranded at sea.

Sa was saved by a light beam. It summoned him up to Heaven. He arose with the whole ocean around him.

He remembered a time when he couldn't talk. Ever since then, he never needed to say anything, he didn't need to say anything to himself either. He just listened to the spirits around him.

He remembered a time when he was walking with a mob around him. He wasn't a part of the mob, they just happened to be walking the same way he was. He didn't try to escape, he just felt curious why everyone was together. After some time, it crumbled away as everyone lost energy. And soon Sa was all alone again.

Sa could hear something moving under the beach. He didn't have a tool strong enough to reach so deep. He listened and everyone once and a while he would forget what he was listening to. But there was something there. Maybe it was nothing. So Sa just watched the water as it became part of the atmosphere.

Sa saw something rise over in the distance. Like the sun rising over the horizon. It was too soonly clouded and Sa couldn't stop imagining what it was.

The trees splintered and fell over with the wind. The sand spiraled into a twister. The water crashed against everything as huge tidal waves.

Sa was lifted from the ground. He layed on a titanic plate of planetary crust being seperated by the spiraling tornado.

The sky was heated by the lightning. Light was absent, the darkness lathered over everything.

Sa heard an ominous cry. It came from the bleeding, wounded planet, screaming in pain. It cried until there were no more tears left.

The lashing of the ferocious, hurricane winds; the cracking and clapping of the furious lightning swords; the bellowing, rasping whisper of the universe condemning this rebellious spirit murdering her daughter. The planet wanted revenge, Sa saw its eyes.

As Sa moved deeper into outer space, the darkness seemed to peel away. He felt cooler and he could move more freely.

The planet was soon powerless. Its gravity had no effect anymore. And as Sa slid away, the Galaxy thought of him as a sectarian rebel. No solar system was allowed to take him in, he would be forever on the run. Forever without a home.

It wasn't his idea to sucede. In his imagination, he was still lying on the beach with his cheek pillowed against the welcoming warm sand. He could feel a slight breeze brush over his nose and a splash of water spit at him. Sometimes a beam of light would be cast upon him and too soon it would move away. Sometimes a butterfly or two would float over the foaming crest of a wave.

In his imagination he couldn't comprehend being suspended in space miles beyond the reach of his planet. In his imagination, he held the treasures of all his past lives and he would hold the memories of his future.

Up away and beyond the swearing and vengeful planet, he was being smuggled away by a suceding chunk of tectonics.
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