(c) What It Means To Dig A Hole
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(c) What It Means To Dig A Hole
by tea-boy. Sat 06 Dec 2008, 11:33 pm
Just some nonsensical drabble.
---
The white wings, they're so pretty. Pure in color with a certain glow about them. And they're attached to a small girl. Maybe, four or five. Her round face and big blue, innocent eyes make her more adorable then was thought possible. She's absolutely radiant. Her feathers move with the wind, each flowing with the grace of a skilled ballerina. She giggles, and it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard.
You just want to hug her, to ask her to never grown up, to have her pass some of her innocence on to you. She smiles...and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. Her smile sparkles brilliantly, surely it shouldn't be possible.
Mesmerized by her smile, it almost doesn't register when she turns around and starts skipping. And you just have to follow her, the mind is too intrigued to let her run off. So begins the chase. Soft footsteps can be heard if one is quiet. The snow crunches under foot and the winter wind whips around.
Just as she reaches the border of sight, she stops. And she turns around. She's crying. Small liquid crystals fall down her cheeks, but she's beautiful just the same. A small whimper emits from her mouth and she falls to her knees. And if a heart doesn't br
All of the sudden, things snap back to reality. There's an empty coffee cup on the table and an essay on The Great Gatsby waiting patiently.
No one truly knows what it means to dig a hole.
---
The white wings, they're so pretty. Pure in color with a certain glow about them. And they're attached to a small girl. Maybe, four or five. Her round face and big blue, innocent eyes make her more adorable then was thought possible. She's absolutely radiant. Her feathers move with the wind, each flowing with the grace of a skilled ballerina. She giggles, and it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard.
You just want to hug her, to ask her to never grown up, to have her pass some of her innocence on to you. She smiles...and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. Her smile sparkles brilliantly, surely it shouldn't be possible.
Mesmerized by her smile, it almost doesn't register when she turns around and starts skipping. And you just have to follow her, the mind is too intrigued to let her run off. So begins the chase. Soft footsteps can be heard if one is quiet. The snow crunches under foot and the winter wind whips around.
Just as she reaches the border of sight, she stops. And she turns around. She's crying. Small liquid crystals fall down her cheeks, but she's beautiful just the same. A small whimper emits from her mouth and she falls to her knees. And if a heart doesn't br
eak the second this happens, it's black.
The logical thing is to run, run to this little girl in need. But wrapping warm and loving arms around her doesn't work. The loving embrace can not be felt, the hands that were ready to comfort go right through her. There's nothing that can be done.
And then something worse happens. Her feathers, they change. Slowly, they fade in color. From a heavenly white, to gray, to black. And they fall off. One by one. Just as gracefully as they swayed, they blow away in the wind.
Both parties have tears streaming now.
The very bottom of the soul ached to help this angelic girl, to lift her out of misery, to give her all the beautiful things she deserves. And the tears turn to sobs as one helplessly watches this girl. She's crying harder now, and she's speaking. She's begging for it to stop, near screaming. Her broken voice is so very tragic, but nothing can be done. No action is received. No touch, no sound, no vision. She's not the phantom.
And then the worst thing happens. She starts fading. Slowly, but surely, this heavenly being is vanishing from sight. Still aching. She fades
until nothing is visible but the white snow that she had been lying on. The sound of weeping fills the air and carries on forever. The tears are coming to fast to controlThe logical thing is to run, run to this little girl in need. But wrapping warm and loving arms around her doesn't work. The loving embrace can not be felt, the hands that were ready to comfort go right through her. There's nothing that can be done.
And then something worse happens. Her feathers, they change. Slowly, they fade in color. From a heavenly white, to gray, to black. And they fall off. One by one. Just as gracefully as they swayed, they blow away in the wind.
Both parties have tears streaming now.
The very bottom of the soul ached to help this angelic girl, to lift her out of misery, to give her all the beautiful things she deserves. And the tears turn to sobs as one helplessly watches this girl. She's crying harder now, and she's speaking. She's begging for it to stop, near screaming. Her broken voice is so very tragic, but nothing can be done. No action is received. No touch, no sound, no vision. She's not the phantom.
And then the worst thing happens. She starts fading. Slowly, but surely, this heavenly being is vanishing from sight. Still aching. She fades
All of the sudden, things snap back to reality. There's an empty coffee cup on the table and an essay on The Great Gatsby waiting patiently.
No one truly knows what it means to dig a hole.
Last edited by danger! on Sat 06 Dec 2008, 11:41 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : checked: danger.)
tea-boy.- Crusader
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I am Revolution :: Words :: Stories :: Original Fiction
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