Death Talkies: Wheel of Time [Apr/04 P66] - Page 45

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-Sookie- thumbnail
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Posted: 12 years ago

Originally posted by: olive.green

Is it just romanticizing an otherwise hopeless situation? I'm not denying the reality of it. Or lack of it. 


What if the fog represents everything else that she conveniently refuses to acknowledge?

You hide more than you reveal. Great to see you back in this thread Sookie :)



The writing is from an observer's point of view who also happens to be the executioner's wife. If that's romanticizing a situation, then it probably is.

Fog really represents fog.

Thanks!
-Aria- thumbnail
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Posted: 12 years ago

Originally posted by: -Sookie-



The writing is from an observer's point of view who also happens to be the executioner's wife. If that's romanticizing a situation, then it probably is.

Fog really represents fog.

Thanks!


Just think about it, the fog could metaphorically stand for so many things, if only... 

This comment was exclusively meant for the Season of Mists :)
Edited by olive.green - 12 years ago
Nandini_goyal thumbnail
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Posted: 12 years ago
looking forward to read this 1 :)
-Aria- thumbnail
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Posted: 12 years ago
Welcome back SOOKIE.

👍🏼
Posted: 12 years ago
Went through "Leap of Faith" and truly share the same question, you posed...

Whatever happened to that kind of writing? Succinct yet all encompassing and that is perhaps why poetry still claims the throne over prose.

I wished the Willow tree had gone beyond giving her the definition and taught her to live through perceptions...But that is just my thought. Her world was hers to define and I will take it.

Thanks for sending the link and glad you are back at it.  😊


ChaiBiskoot thumbnail
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Posted: 12 years ago
will be reading allthe parts soon!
-Sookie- thumbnail
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Posted: 12 years ago

Ordo ab Chao

He stands at the edge of time and looks at the ocean of chaos flowing beneath his feet. He crouches and runs his hand in the stream of pure cosmic consciousness and feels a tingle run up his hand. In that moment, a universe is born, worlds are formed and lives are created. Like the flow of sand, wheel of time starts to spin and thus a new story begins whose ending only he knows.

With birth comes the definitive death, its smell always hovering since the moment of birth.

His grey-blue skin glistens in the wake of a dying star. He basks in the light and sees through every speck of dust that is blown from the core of the star. He sees a pattern in that chaos - a pattern that he understands and knows how to untangle every one of them. But for now, he allows them to be.

Space bends and time ceases to exist when he decides on his destination. He finds himself surrounded by snow covered mountains and fresh green grass. The conjoining contradiction isn't lost on him. A pang of unknown emotion rises from his spine, his reaction to the laughter of a young woman carried by the passing wind. The smell of ash on his skin blends with the smell of grass and honeysuckle making the wind take that smell to the owner of the laughter.

The calmness he personified during the creation of time was lost in an abyss of unbound energy which he passed before he came here.

Here is going to be everywhere, he thinks wryly.

He feels velvety grass crunch beneath his naked feet as he makes his way towards the sound of laughter. The irony of him seeking something so mundane, something so human makes him chuckle. Yet, it was something that had to be done; for mankind, for himself and for her. He owed her that. He wonders if she would recognize him the moment she sees him. Eons of memory was crumpled and stuffed into pockets of stars when she was born as her. The stars would return her memory of him and her together when it was time for her to know.

Everything happened according to design; a pattern that was laid out according to blueprints designed by him. That was the only way he could bring around order. That was the only way he could probably perform his duty.

However sometimes chaos required more than an outside supervision.

Her laughter dies when her eyes fall on a stranger - a man with animal skin woven around his waist and his blue grey skin covered in ash. His eyes shone like stars and he smelled of universe.

She smiled in recognition.

Sometimes, chaos needed his intervention.

And then came the order the world was waiting for.

Edited by -Sookie- - 12 years ago
Sur_10 thumbnail
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Posted: 12 years ago
Shiva! You wrote about Shiva! :D
Haven't actually read anything like this... 
His eyes shone like stars and he smelled of universe.
Nice line, this is. Mythology offers such great stories
Boogle.Schiz thumbnail
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Posted: 12 years ago

My knowledge of Hindu mythology is very limited and narrow...in fact I shun myself for not recognising the Deity until I read Ivre's comment. However this was so eloquently written, the fantasy element in itself was surreal...I can't really explain it. This has to be one of the best pieces in this series, I applaud your skills!

Edited by .-Moksha-. - 12 years ago
-Aria- thumbnail
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Posted: 12 years ago
Edit~

Intriguing...engaging...and a lovely beginning...

Do write more...




Edited by olive.green - 12 years ago