false_prophecy Fred
"If you close your eyes the light stays in one place, but if you do that then you don't see the people walking around on their hands," I mumbled as I scribbled slowly on the wall. I'd been writing down my thoughts on and off all day, making sure not to forget anything. I kept writing as a wordless tune floated through my brain. I kept trying to pluck words from the song, but I couldn't find any. I guess the music box in my brain was out of batteries.
I stopped writing and looked at the last word I'd written...'vibrations.' I looked at the rest of the line and recognized a sentence from the basic String Theory I'd learned in college. I shook my head. Only good girls go to college. Girls who spend their lives in caves and almost get their heads chopped off by demons don't go to college. I frowned and thought that demons who did go around chopping off people's heads probably didn't have a lot of friends. Because, who would want to be friends with a demon who made a habit of going around and lopping people's heads off willy nilly? Not me, that's for sure.
I put a hand on either side of my head and sighed with relief. I gave a firm nod and mumbled, "Still there." Then I dropped to my knees and began drawing a small picture of the hillside in Pylea and the cave where I'd spent almost five years. "Felt more like 50, didn't it cow slave?" I whispered to the tiny figure I'd drawn at the cave mouth. I wrote two tiny words next to the picture. idée fixe was small, but I could see it and knew it was there.
I could see the Webster's Dictionary definition of idée fixe flash into my mind: A fixed idea; an obsession. And that's what I'd had for five years; a fixed idea and obsession to find my way home. I looked around the room and blinked once, "And here I am...."
I stopped writing and looked at the last word I'd written...'vibrations.' I looked at the rest of the line and recognized a sentence from the basic String Theory I'd learned in college. I shook my head. Only good girls go to college. Girls who spend their lives in caves and almost get their heads chopped off by demons don't go to college. I frowned and thought that demons who did go around chopping off people's heads probably didn't have a lot of friends. Because, who would want to be friends with a demon who made a habit of going around and lopping people's heads off willy nilly? Not me, that's for sure.
I put a hand on either side of my head and sighed with relief. I gave a firm nod and mumbled, "Still there." Then I dropped to my knees and began drawing a small picture of the hillside in Pylea and the cave where I'd spent almost five years. "Felt more like 50, didn't it cow slave?" I whispered to the tiny figure I'd drawn at the cave mouth. I wrote two tiny words next to the picture. idée fixe was small, but I could see it and knew it was there.
I could see the Webster's Dictionary definition of idée fixe flash into my mind: A fixed idea; an obsession. And that's what I'd had for five years; a fixed idea and obsession to find my way home. I looked around the room and blinked once, "And here I am...."