domingo, maio 28, 2017

Micro-Fiction, Text 008: "The Moon" by Myselfie (Dedicated to My Father)

The moon must have risen high in the sky, because the fog around them had turned into a silvery and impenetrable cocoon that seemingly had started self to shine. The humidity that was reflected down on his face and his forearms was cooling and let him slowly emerge from a state of deep exhaustion, like a submarine emerges from the pitch-black of deep sea into the twilight above it.
His first, blurred thought slowly drove over to Casabian, who still walked right behind him. The thick, glowing fog swallowed almost every noise but he knew she was there. He thought about whether he might have heard her footsteps and her breathing, without perceiving it consciously or whether he had developed an extra sense that made him feel Casabian's aura. The extreme terror that they had been through, might perhaps quite have been able to produce such a sense. The chance had made her to the only thing left to him and what would remain to him in view of his future prospects. Although he had no occasion for a glimpse into a future that lay farther than a few hours before him. But no matter how the situation would develop, if it should develop for him at all, then Casabian would be the only confided in his life.
He ordered his legs to go no further. Apparently his legs followed his command reluctantly two further steps and let him stop abruptly. Casabian also seemed to emerge from her reverie before she came to stand next to him. Her slender body was almost swallowed by the luminous mist and was no more than a thin, black silhouette. Wordlessly, she looked up at him and her eyes shone with silvery luster in the diffuse light of the moon.
As their eyes met, he felt the icy grip that had his heart squeezed in the course of the last few days to a cold, steely lumps, slowly loosen. The panicked fear of being tracked down and killed by their hunters, gave way to a feeling that seeped slowly into his body, like the alcohol of a heavy wine. If he was going to die in this strange place, then he would be close to the one person who meant everything to him. And that person would join him. Otherwise, he had nothing to lose.
With a slight breeze the fog seemed to set in motion and became thinner. Suddenly it teared up and opened a view of the desert-like environment that lay around them, such as under a silver shroud. He knew that he would fight until the last drop of his blood and to the last twitch of his muscles - for Casabian and for the justice that they deserved?

Dedicated to my father.

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