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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1910959
Rated: E · Non-fiction · Dark · #1910959
A spilling of souls if I may.
    It begins with a seed, a single drop of the crystal clear liquid. Birthing from a non-existing source as each fell into the darkness creating a single streak of light as it completed its decent. Ending the seemingly eternal moment with a cannonball effect to the shadow, distorting it with the light once again. Each action leading to the next only to repeat once again, existence only surrounding each individual drop. A single noise echos through the emptiness with every impact fracturing the mind and distorting the senses.
    Interrupted by the sharp inhalation of breath.
   
    The room was dark, it was always dark no matter what time it was. The blinds had not been enough, he had nailed layer apon layer of cloth over the window to keep every single ray of light out. A glance to his left showed the green numbers of the clock declaring it was nearing two in the morning. Through many well placed holes in each layer of the fabric a small glance of the yard beyond the thick, fogged glass-like substance was allowed. The sun had not yet risen and the moon shown lightly through what seemed like clouds.
    His long hair fell below his shoulders as he stood up, his head hung limply with sleep deprivation. A shirt was easily found strewn across the floor and put on in an almost ritualistic manner as he made his way across the pitch dark room. Knotting the pull string on his sleep pants was a subconscious act before he reached for the door. The gentle clicking of the lock releasing brought relief to his mind for unknown reasons as he opened the door and headed down the hallway. Each step felt like a lifetime as he passed the doors to other rooms and finally reached the end. To the left was another door, this one seeming different. As he reached his surprisingly shaking hand forward a small gust of wind seemed to rush out from underneath the door. Compelled more by fear than curiosity he grabbed the handle and swung the door open wide.
    The sky seemed to be filled with a gray velvet as the moon drifted across the blackness. Its light still young in the night, shifting and distorting through the waves of shadow. A gentle mist permeated the air almost as if it had a will of its own, floating to and fro across the dew covered lawn. Each ray of light that was able to reach the grass shown like a whisper of a ghost dancing across the property before disappearing once again.
    As if on queue, lights erupted from the houses around him, signaling the awakening of his neighbors. Soon the owners to every house were standing outside their homes, unaware that each had been woken by the same mysterious dream.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1910959