/Verin“Just how long is it going to take?” - Resam looked at my struggles. Dealing with technology that was more than a century old.“Give me some time. One must keep patience.” - I fiddled with mechanisms.Loud roar of the dragon shook the earth, sending shivers. Huge armoured dragon landed in the resistance camp. Forces of protectors have come together here to be ready for when the King's men will attack.Elvish man, the same who gave lift to David, stepped off from the dragon's back, holding onto armour that covered the beast. He looked around, eyes seeking for someone. Dragon grunted, which got a slight tap on the nose from the man. Elf gave another look to the surrounding soldiers, then his eyes met with Resams' gaze, making him walk towards this old man.“This barrier mechanism needs some elvish touch.” - He spoke, as he pushed me aside, then switched some gears on this old thing. The moment he said something in Elvish, producing the last click with a switch - gears went in mot
/Ella Buzz of the laptop woke me up. It was still the middle of the night. The work that I kept on exploring - my great quest - still in the document format on the screen. Auto saved multiple times. I looked at the door - closed. It was open before. I remember how it was absolutely open before. My eyes darted across the room - checking if all was still intact, in the same place, untouched. I breathed out in relief - Erick was on the sofa. Asleep."Thank goodness it was just you." - I thought to myself. Finding lighter and ashtray in the pile of paperwork scattered across the table was a little task. The piles of the paper could slush down if not moved carefully. After finding the two ingredients, I reached into my pocket to pull a pack of reds out. Flicker of a lighter, zip sound and the cigarette was lit. I took a sweet dose of nicotine. Looking at my sleeping brother was my great meditation. He always looked absolutely peaceful, like all the worries in their world never exis
/ErickOne bedroom apartment, quite spacious and at the same time absolutely crammed up with endless papers.I was indulging in my morning coffee, whilst taking in the view from his window - outside it was sunrise, it was early autumn morning. The mist in the air gave the mysterious feeling to the town below. Everyone was waking up to their jobs, to the assignments that were waiting for them in the office, to the never ending flow of consumers and service.I was enjoying this time of the day. When all was still about to wake up for a day filled with tasks and things to do.Staying in Tokyo made me absolutely comfortable in many ways. Although it was such a buzz filled place, I enjoyed living here. Outskirts of a big city, the more "down to earth" feeling to it, compared with the central.I came here barely a year ago. Luckily for me, I landed a job with a publishing company. Being the writer for a publishing house. Every few weeks I'd have my manager come over to have a chat, check pr
His breathing was heavy and abrupt. Unable to move. Body held by exoskeleton. Lower half is already sunk to the floor. Legs scraped and cut by broken glass. Some bits are already stuck in flesh. Eyes having trouble focusing. His white hair is sticking to forehead.He is bleeding. Unable to even cry. Pain is excruciating. Yet he is already exhausted to be minding it. He’s got no idea how the glass pod broke – he woke up to pain. Still all the wires are connected to his body. Needles scraping inside of him – tearing flesh. Internal bleeding is severe by now.From what he sees in this room – it has been decades. Many years since everyone got killed. Mummified corpses of researchers are left around, in the same places they were shot. The stench is sickening.Facility running on reserve energy supply from hell knows where. Air is heavy, dusty, and most of the research lab is raided and destroyed. Yet quite a lot is still here and operating. Perhaps thieves just don’t know how valuable equi
/ErickRoom is filled with sounds of Radiohead music, it is playing quietly in the background, as I stroll to the kitchen to make my morning coffee.Amazing weather outside - all bright and white. It is rough and cold outside. Pleased to enjoy it from here – my humble home.There are always moments when you just go on shivering from the view of something very chilly. Perhaps there’s something that is built inside you to automatically get such a reaction.As I am making my chocolate coffee I observe scenery outside. Sun is reflecting its light upon the white snow - making it “blinding obstacle” for the eyes to focus.Yet eyes manage to look at the landscape spreading further: great forest valley just underneath, the snow gently covering each tree branch, each rock.Keeping the earth pleasingly under the white blanket. Beauties of living high up on the hill. Pretending to be a mountain man on the inside, yet externally I’m quite far from one.To explain a bit about my world…Due to us g
/ErickA new Garden opened near my house.I enjoy the flowers and taking care of them, though I am not as good at it as I’d likeI’ve a feeling that there are a lot of us – who are really enthusiastic about flowers and plants, but at times it just doesn’t work out.Such an amazing opportunity to go and take a look at new breeds of flowers, bushes, trees - plainly just to enjoy the flora itself.For me - it’s art. Plants differ from one another, yet all seem in so much harmony.There are great architects specialising in creating landscapes that change each season – using plants, knowledge and imagination.Usually I’m alone during my walks, to savour the moments, but today I had Orchid accompanying me.Orchid wanted to take some time to understand my point of view regarding flowers. She is not fond of the whole idea and process. She said it is too time consuming – that you have to care for it. That's another point of view.We were pacing through the arch of wisteria. Purple flowers hung
/ErickInsomnia - greatest self-destructive system. It comes out when you are troubled, floating somewhere in between reality and dream.My only safe place, no matter where and how... I’m drawn to the kitchen.It seems quite strange by many means. As I, grown-up, sit on the kitchen floor. Hands holding a cup of coffee, eyes staring into space. Like that shadow over there is the answer to something that is bothering me.But all I really see is just the hollow nothingness of that point blank I stare into. The dreams of dying ‘Light’ recently keep me up through the night.Somehow this bit of cold place called the kitchen is just where I feel safe. In a way, like in a story by Banana Yoshimoto “Kitchen”, yes, somehow to some of us it is the best place to “hide”. This moonlit darkness, in blue hues, really makes me feel at ease.When I was in the room, on his bed... His bed?Head shook a few times, fingers brushing through hair.“Who is Light? What have I forgotten?” - thinking to self, as
/ErickDawn - with darkness fading, it’s getting brighter.Still in bed. Feeling the warmth of sheets on my skin. Breathing in chilly air.Oh, I did leave the window opened for the night.Cannot recall the dream I had. As the morning goes - have to get up. Today there’s plenty of work in need of my attention.Getting up from the bed was the toughest part. My tendency of liking towards the warmth is bigger than love for cold. Fetching next to bed my long sleeve shirt and jeans to wear for today.Although it’s the end of summer, yet mornings are pretty chilly. Thin frost clinging to petals, grass and trees, covering houses and window sills. I find it fascinating to observe the transition from the crystals of cold into the tiny water drops. That eventually falls down or evaporates, uncovering a world with enhanced contrast.My room looked like a schizophrenic mess created by some stray artisan, who went through here as a gust of wind. Multiple canvases, books, paints, brushes, papers wit