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Enigma in Black

He sat listening to the quiet eternity that had put him in the center of a greater will. The boquet of roses had wilted and withered weeks ago and still he waited for the conclusion to the experiment. Wishing for god's help he saw the tattered shell of a beetle and in an instant it was in his grasp. He paused, the old shell had gone brittle and dark like ancient resin. He streatched his arms forward and crushed the shell between his fingertips... it was simple and said everything except... Sleep and dreams, the conversation weeks earlier had been of sleep and dreams, and he had relished the advent of the time, the turn of the hour, the roll of the dice. Cherry red blossoms lit the whites of his eyes as he waited for the visitors... what would he say. Perhaps he would ask for help and perhaps he'd cry. They had to listen to his madness. Whirlwinds of smoke and flame filled his consciousness for a moment, in that second he knew their anger. In the end he still waited... and waited for the aliens to arrive with the promise of youth.

Story by:

Ron Koppelberger

will806095@bellsouth.net

submitted at 4:06pm

12 April 2012

Ron Koppelberger's web:

wolffray.blogspot.com