TheAIndex
It was hard and rough. It was the best and the worst the world was ever going to get, because there was no way it was ever going to end cleanly, if at all. The fight was purpose, the fight was life, the fight was believing that there was something to fight for and the first place, and the idea of stopping to see how little was left of the world was more terrifying that the conflict itself
Her breath spread throughout her body, her heart moving slowly ant first then revving like an engine. She gasped feeling the warm honey glow of her blood beginning to circulate throughout her veins again. She was alive.
It had been over a century since it had felt anything like this. It was like infinity, dripping like honey dripping from his life, like those grand forests and wide oceans that it was doomed never to be able to touch. It was the delicate sweetness of a sunrise, gently folded into dreams of a child.
It was a legendary stunt to pull. The very definition of a long shot. It likely wouldn't work, but what choice did they have, the world was ending anyways.
It was a misunderstand. It sounds dumb, but it was. Not that the police care. Or the FBI. Or the CIA. Seriously, when I catch the guy who gave me this briefcase he's done for.
I kept my head down, kept walking. It was quiet out but it sounded as though all the sound had come back to the world, all the colors too, grey and green and white misty tendrils. there was much to see, but I wasn't done walking yet. I guess this is what they call a breakthrough.
The ghosts, both literal and figurative, surrounded me. They howled in my ears, trying to remind me of every little smudge that I had made on the glass of my life. I was used to this, but I had to wonder when Apollo had gotten around to adding tambourines into this nightmare.
The water was so clear that I could see to the very bottom where the starfish crawled and the fish darted. It didn't seem like it should be real. Nothing here did. A perfect paradise two small to pace in, the tallest tree in the word forming a little island of peace, shallows in its roots and woods in its branches. And horizon as far as they eye could see. Far away, I could see land. But I was trapped here, in "paradise".
The birds have all flown away. That was the first sign of trouble. Birds always know better than people. When to fly, and when winters coming. On the day he came home, they were all gone. Still I let him into my home, into my life. I should have listened to the birds.
I was starving for words. Sentences. Anything to end this boredom. To tickle my brain into complex though, but here I was stuck with only a pen to feed me.
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