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Rated: 13+ · Sample · Sci-fi · #1502881
An obsession taken very seriously because she saw a God. A mechanic God.
Gone Too Scattered
~The hue color of my fingertips gone red fresh~
"Ma'am it's getting dark, can you move to the side?"


Kissable, tangible, and moist full, peak flush lips licked itself for more of the flavor strawberry kiwi and banana taste locked in awe of its own disposition. "Well hello there." Bees and dears passed by the noticeable dumb struck cherry pink haired girl. Stared up the dull gray unfulfilled sky. "It's a God!" Whispered the young, not too bright, little 5 foot 1 inched lady. Her tattered skirt and drenched tee shirt too tight like her cobweb designed leggings clung child grip on her teeny tiny pearl white legs. Too small like the lady fingers covered with big rock rings non too glittery and shiny. Too small like the non feral beast wings of the square faced android above. Interacted with the white free bride birds of the other crows. Watched. Stared. And flew South City from the newly underdeveloped San Francisco of vast 2090 far years ahead in society. Rocky mountains of thrash and burned heap of buildings said that curious warfare had taken place not too long ago.

"It's a God!" The green eyed android of this years millennium creation stayed into the sky with its robotic fully assembled arms tried to touch the sky. Both hands tied up. Discovered the new world given to its birth. "It's a God!" Flashy eye sockets twinkled with amusement and amazement. Like she's never saw one before. Her hands crumpled together like old newspaper of the past, in a good sort of way. Her nails polished with mess of dead white paint brush. Her eyes jade like the struck wonder beast's green square leaf data of what she could make as to be its eyes.

"It's a God!" A type of robotic not too angelic God. A mechanic made for function and chores finally rose down on top of grouped unstable antennas, thrown outside the unfiltered beach treated like it was a sort of  junk yard.

Reached hard the pale figurine doll tried. Her tiny fingers shoved all over the corners of the junk antennas and tip toed up towards this cold objects face. Reach. Reach. Reach. It's wings lightly flapped side by side almost startled and ready to flee.

The flying android was made of stainless steel for its very own square head with white wings like an ancient old Griffin abandoned, left alone. Gold steel tough plump hands made for both sides. And the rest made from new thrashed metal of all kinds: brass, bronze, gold, zinc plate, copper, and plus increase of alloys.

This man made God of machinery was not a myth not false hope of the help seekers. The robotic compartment was a lost traveler far from its master, far from the newly directed Mission DIstrict. Completely re-mastered with new features from the original blueprint. Not a very frugal make to be done. Far expensive than the creation of elixirs, reloaders, and healing herbs. This God was a copy and look a like of any mad scientist affair with insane 'It's alive!' form of science and philosophy. But in these days, it's not a rare thing to see. The futuristic society in the all around global change no longer lagged in technology, but made an increase in humane destruction and vengeance. This floating object was one of the ulterior motives and triumph card for the league championships in upcoming war.

But the young girl of 19 still vowed to feel its solid non crippled texture. Sat on the dusty ground and pouted with her pack of Virgin pack for a winters weather smoke to last the bone shaking fever off her now numb and bumpy skin.

"I know I saw a God. There's no mistaking it. It came for only me!"
© Copyright 2008 thexflowerxgirl (theflowergirl at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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