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The Riddler

The sky was very dark.

"Why, why is it dark? Has it always been this dark? Is it night, or is it day? If so, why so dark?"

Still the sky was very dark, and out of this darkness, rain would pour down to break the silence of these peaceful streets of Gotham.

And then I would ask myself all these questions, "Why is it raining? "Why do I feel so sad? What should I do then? Where do I begin? How can this be? How, what, why?"

I never bothered myself answering these questions in my head. It is fun this way, it had always been. The questions inside me all this time, unanswered, it doesn’t bother me quite bit.

"Because all I want is... what do I want?" I suddenly said to myself, "I never knew what I wanted. If I do this, will it clear up everything? Maybe it will?"

So I did it. I wore my jacket on as the rain kept pouring down this poignant city. I put my hood up so no one would recognize me, and as I slowly walk away from the café, I suddenly started laughing as I felt loud and bright bursts of heat and fire from my back. I turned around one last time.

"Why so pretty?"

Story by:

Harley Rolf Barcenas

h_barcenas@yahoo.com

submitted at 5:22am

5 August 2010