(writer is on vacation - here is one from the past)
(for you, Deckard)
Skies were disarranged with flat clouds, spread out across the high yonders. Cha surveyed the disarray with wonder. Looking over, toward the Barta Parallel, by Alena - "What kind of ship makes those smoke trails in the sky, that look like smoke rings. Like, puff,puff,puff, in perfect order?", he asked, out loud. "Wonder where Cha would go to find out?", he continued; walking, looking up and scratching his head.
Dar-le walked by, a few steps behind Cha. Always did. I had asked the replicant why, one time. She said, "from the old folks, from the old ones."
Programmed that way, was my guess.
I was on the ground, looking up, at them. With a broken leg and two holes in my chest. The head shot almost missed. Took the bottom part of my left ear.
The Skants, were in that part of - panic, where they looked for something to distract. Anything, to remove the, up front, inside-your-focus reasoning abilities. That personal, sudden, upside-down-world that they were currently thrown into and could not shake, cause, you know - if they break a leg, they just keep going.
I would have, too! Weren't for these holes, by my sternum (as I watched the ooze).
"What are you guys gonna do?", I had just asked, moments before You arrived. I had sounded pretty casual, when I asked.
"We are going for help!", had been their reply.
Yea, You saw them. They filed past, as they left me here.
Plenty of water, though.
That's when You walked up.
Slowly, I became part of the landscape, after a few chapters of a book that I wrote, in my head, as I waited.
The story was about some old farmer, with three sons, who stumbled across my bones, in his field, set in the distant future.
One of the sons starts telling My story to the others, after picking up one of my bones. Out of nowhere, he starts revelating, as they all stood there, over my bleached-out, old bones.
"Well, you told the story, all wrong! You made up things as you went along and you got my story all wrong!"
Yea, I know, panic set in, as I got into the latter chapters and there isn't a thing that I can do about it, you bastard!
"You got it all wrong!", I kept saying, till my voice lost its verve.
The last few days, I could see through things. I would pick up a handful of leaves,
Off the ground and they weren't all there. They were kinda there, but not all the way. There were parts missing.
"I never got to meet my creator!"
This continued until the dark set in and slowly prevailed.
"This vehicle was removed from service and released of all further obligations", was the log entry.
"Did you know this Skant?", was quietly asked, by the other Blade.
"No, we had just met.", was the response.
Status : Recycle
Databanks : Destroyed
Report : End
- February 9, 2012
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