Tick tock tick tock tick tock...
It lays there in the log for an eternity, telling time only to those who know where not to look.
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He settles once again inside his nest. He pulls out his journal from under a blanket. He extracts his pen from a pocket within his garb. He thoughtfully opens the journal, feeling the leather in his hands, feeling each page as he flips it by. Feeling. Feelings, and he begins to write of his adventure with elephants in the place he's never been.
"There were elephants under a light grassland, blue skies and no trees..."
He continued until he heard a ringing. A ringing in his right ear. Or was it a thumping. Maybe even a rattling. It seemed to be emanating from the window. He looked at it. Foggy and dark. He could not see through it. He put his things away and grabbed his necklace. Luck. He had opened it before, but that was so long ago. Too long ago.
He pushes it with his pale left hand on the glass, the condensation forming. His eyes narrow. It swings open. There is nothing. So much nothing. Just blackness. Darkness. Death, the absence of everything, the presence of nothing.
"So what of the noise then?"
The window just wanted to be opened, can it truly be blamed for a simple wish. He was becoming lonely too. He stares at the candle again, oh how everything agitates him but yet impresses him. Like a child. An infant. A cat.
"I'm tired."
A long day he has had.
He sleeps.
YOU ARE READING
think.
FantasyIn this room he sits... forever. His story is a strange one, his mysterious past and future might be revealed. But who is he?
