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Mar 25, 2004 | Eclipse of Souls (Part One)

The Eclipse of Souls- A featured weekly online installment by the True Diarist. A journey of self-discovery mixed with personal experience. Dedicated to the people who I make my blog for, and who make my blog worthwhile, Mackie and the Answer-Seeking Girl.

For a brief glimpse of time all stood still. The sun, never present, almost seemed to squeeze through the dismal heavens as it had never done before. The tropical birds were silent, the overflowing ageless trees ceased their constant whispering, and the wind ended its bewitching howl, one that usually spread shivers throughout the land. It was eerie, and for a moment the clouds seem to frown at the absurdity of the scene. It was a gray world, locked in the mundane shade that was reminiscent of the past, of the monochrome and the glass plates. It was then that the soul stirred. It was then that it realised that its dominion wasn’t here, but at the long gone past. But then again, it was already too late.

Installment 1
The effigy towered endlessly into the blue-grey sky, and with the occasional glint from the ever-dissapearing sun, it almost appeared majestic. The reason it didn’t appear majestic was simply because many didn’t like having a statue blot out the sun on the land where the sun never or rarely showed its face. The tower of metal spread its fatherly hands out towards the city, as though it were a protector, a guardian, ensuring that no harm would befall the city, and while the birds cautiously wavered around, drifting aimlessly, it began to snow. The flakes seemed to drift slowly down from the hands of the statue, and the grey skies dimmed as the people below shuffled home, bundled in oversized coats and billowing scarves.

Jace woke up to the blaring of “Our Comrade Is Mighty” by the kid next door on his trumpets. It seems the kid just recently joined the Youth society, and they spent the days hiking, camping, and most annoyingly, learning to play the trumpets. So much for a good night’s sleep, thought Jace. In his younger days he had been called Jason, but somehow or another the name faded into history, just as Abraham sounded out of place back then. Now most names where four lettered anyways, saving space in the historical archives that now occupied the space of a building as big as what was once known as the Library of Congress. Not that it mattered, really.

He hurriedly ate his breakfast, almost reaching for the cell-phone and the radio until he realised he no longer had them…

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 25th, 2004 at 12:00 am, EST under the category of PerlBlog Days. Both comments and pings are currently closed.