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by ♔Voltaire♔ » Sun Nov 10, 2019 4:17 pm
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______________________________________________________________________The odor of rusting metal and gasoline, fingers fumbling for a small button. Sounds of motors and the slow, agonizing separation from the outside by semi-corroded aluminum and the aching plunge into darkness.
Welcome to the year 3001, six years after my birth- six years of training, watery eyes and the smell of antifreeze.
There are no fields, no roads in my city. "Street" cars are a thing of the past, the human race evolving quicker than lighting as they always seem to do, and not waiting for the rest of the world to catch up. The world no longer runs on wheels but on the sky and jetstreams; less smog but still the sting of acid rain and the presumption that maybe long before, forests actually existed. Farms didn't exist until you left the city and drove a few hundred miles afterward, most of them dilapidated after the switch from organic to lab-created sustenance. I work on the police force: I wear heavy bullet and laserproof vests and carry a 250 lb man on my back for ten hours a day, seven days a week, keeping the public peace and partaking in stand-downs. The force has flying cars, however, they "still need footmen"... so, here I am. No fields mean no farms, so my owner keeps me in his old garage, barricading me off from one side of it where his tools and other junk is stored. In the corner closest to me sits a large antique mirror, probably belonging to his late missus before she passed, but I use it to write about my day, to make me feel less lonely.
Ah, there's the rain. I love the way it sounds on the roof, but how I wish I could feel it on my skin; clean and pure and free of pollution. Maybe one day I'll see the rolling fields. If only there was someone who understood.
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♔Voltaire♔ on Sun Nov 10, 2019 4:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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♔Voltaire♔
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by DeadlyArcana » Sun Nov 17, 2019 5:38 pm

────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────it was a morning like most. The summer season had brought warmth and prosperity to the small town I lived in. I laid lazily in my field, surrounded by dozens of wild flowers and tall grass. The honey bees buzzed quietly from flower to flower, gently landing on the petals and collecting the pollen from within the buds. I lifted my head to look around, noticing my owner in the distance hanging her laundry on the clothing line that ran from a weathered down post to her small cabin.
We didn't have much, it was just her and I. It used to be her entire family, but slowly each one either passed on or moved away. She preferred the country side and her small home. Before I came into her life she lived in the bustling city that was a few hundred miles away, but it soon got too boring and unentertaining. She craved a life of simplicity.
When I came along, I had seen my fair share of owners, but none like her. I was used as a show horse, born into it. My parents were prestigious champions, and they expected me to be the same. I, on the other hand, despised being like them. I'd much rather be someones pet than an object used to win titles and trophies. I found no love in doing so.
When she found me, I knew she was who I was looking for. She gave me open pastures, good food, and shelter. Everything I could ever ask for.
I lived in a one stall barn along with her families belongings that she had no where to go with. Most were packed away in boxes, except for one specific mirror that faced my stall. It had been in her family for years, or so she has told me. I usually will inspect myself in it, always curious about my dark eyes and bright coat.
Suddenly, my bright sunny day turned into a dreary one. Storm clouds formed over the ocean and quickly began to bring in wind and rain. I raised myself from where I laid and made my way into the small barn to be put away. I wasn't a fan of storms, they made me uneasy and I preferred to be under shelter than out in the open.
Last edited by
DeadlyArcana on Tue Nov 26, 2019 1:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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DeadlyArcana
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by ♔Voltaire♔ » Tue Nov 26, 2019 1:14 pm
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______________________________________________________________________Another day, another asthma fit. With the growing pollution, the attacks only seem to get worse and worse.
The day went by slowly, nothing of value to add to it, no heinous crimes, no vandals. No one seems to have the time anymore, and I don't know whether to be glad or not about it. All I know I that the smog is too much to bear anymore.
So here I am once more, holed up in the same moldy garage, next to the same dusty mirror. I look over to it, eyes languidly trying to read the words I wrote the day before, as I do every time I get home. Wait... I bolt upright, rushing to the dusty mirror, scanning the words written there in crisp cursive.
"Hello? Who are you?"
My heart stops. One beat, two beats, then a few thousand more as my blood begins to rush. Who got into the garage?! Who are you? I take a moment to weigh my options; do I write my name? What do I do? Taking a deep breath, I begin to write.
"Who are you, and how did you get into the garage?"
My heart hammers in my chest, and it takes me longer to fall asleep than usual.
xxx
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♔Voltaire♔
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by ♔Voltaire♔ » Tue Nov 26, 2019 2:25 pm
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______________________________________________________________________Her name is Achyls.
Some way, some how, we're able to talk through our mirrors... And I wouldn't trade that for the world. She says she comes from four years in the past, and I didn't believe her until we started talking more and more. She comes from a rural town, about a hundred miles or so away from the city, which to her is just beginning to truly flourish.
It has been a little over a year now since we found each other through the dusty mirror, but it feels like a lifetime of knowing each other. Everywhere I go I think of how it would be wonderful for her to see it with me. My owner gets annoyed at me more than ever now- my tendency to space off has been getting in the way of active duty.
How I long to see her face, to actually feel her beside me. The city isn't the most pretty thing, but how I wish to watch the skylights with her. Walking into the garage that night, I write the words I have been waiting to for so long.
"I want to meet. Whether it's three years from now or a hundred. I'll wait for you."
xxx
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─ - Mason Jennings║
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♔Voltaire♔
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- Posts: 12977
- Joined: Tue Sep 01, 2015 7:13 am
- My pets
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