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Syndel's Spire
Syndel's Spire

Introduction
My texts (78)
My series (10)

PHQ-Nickname:
Syndel

Halfquake:
Mania

Level:
74

Total kills:
19,843,348

Birthday:
00th 0000

Sunburn

Mood:depressive
Type:Story
Added:July 07th 2010, 14:45:22
Visits:915
Rating:5/5 (Votes: 3)

Description:
A short random story.

In darkness... every raindrop is like a finger, reaching out and touching you. It's like an invisible hand, cradling your jaw and cleaning your wounds. It holds you close in the limitless infinity of the dark, and as you sink beneath the waves and the thunder cracks the sky far above, you are safe, drowning in the water's embrace.

So sickly sweet, the respite of sun on the labourer's back - the harsh rays burning the moisture from his skin, leaving swollen redness in it's place as the naked skin morphs under the solar strike. The sea swallowed him till he swallowed the sea, and lucky to be alive he is now caught, trapped between the everlasting battle between sun and sea.

The sands are bleached white on this tiny island, screaming their pain in glass-like reflection which stings the eyes of the labourer, but still he works, though the sea has cut his skin, and the sun has dried the moisture from his bones - still he labours, sighing in desperation and crying dry tears as the britle wood of the nearby tree shatters and cracks unpredictably under his hands.

Shipwrecked, he is the only victim - all others surrendered to the lure of the ocean floor. He too, had surrendered, but the ocean itself had rejected him, washing him on to land and causing his weary bones to groan and ache as he wandered around the tiny islet. The land tolerated him, burning him as he wandered over the red-hot sands, and chastising him as he feebly clawed at the wood of the trees. Each time he would find a weak-spot, and each time the wood would come apart in his hands, till at last he collapsed at the base, praying for sunset and drinking blood from his cracked lips.

And so in the very same darkness which brought his ship to it's end he found respite, curled against the trees which reluctantly shielded him from the cool wind and bright starry moonlight. There he fought against his fatigue, trying to ignore the overpowering urge to sleep, knowing that it would bring the burning sun all the quicker. Soon he could fight no longer, broken by the sea, annihilated by the sun and lost in the darkness. He slept the sleep of the dead, eyes softly closed, mouth dry and entirely still. Until dawn.

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Total Personal Pages: 220 - Total series: 116 - Total texts: 882
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