[ drabble: nature ]
Outside my window, it rains.
I do not mean rain in just the simple sense of water falling from the sky, from the overburdened clouds. I mean it is this sort of rain that, if anything could, could make me believe in heaven. Because all of this - it must come from somewhere. I find it difficult to believe that the river, for all it's calm, could create something so monstrous.
Thunder is rolling almost constantly. I prefer to work in silence, or perhaps to the beat of a waltz, or - if I am truly feeling rebellious, some classic rock pre-Revelation. Though right now I would hate to be in the silence. When I returned home, it was uncomfortably warm. Mazikeen wasn't home yet. I read a little bit, worked on black tie's menu (added two dishes of my own, a veal dish, and a vegetarian entree) and thumbed through the research I was doing on Ichimaru.
The storm started suddenly. I've been watching it since. I would have gone outside and stood in the rain, had I not already showered and cleaned up for the night.
Nature is my favorite mysterious darling, far up there with Gin. She keeps us alive, keeps us well and grows our food, yet at the same time, her destruction is on a level humanity cannot comprehend. In a day she can kill hundreds of millions by pulling the Earth apart; She can drown small countries. Her lava is indifferent, beautiful, deadly, and there is no escape.
These rains - I admire them. I admire the sudden cracks through the sky, lightening tearing open the darkness before sulking off. I admire the deep, wide sounds of thunder, and sometimes I can almost imagine those rolling soundwaves, crashing and growling. Are you angry at us, Earth, for melding you for us? Would you have me destroy my home for your pleasure, so that I would flee from your every threat?
The windows are open and the room smells like rain and wet soil. Under normal circumstances, this would be unacceptable.
For now, I only wish my halves could be so mysterious as hers.
Soon, when I roar, the whole city will hear me. Beggars will run for cover; the electricity will short out. When I point and gesture to those I will have destroyed, their houses will alight and their lives will darken.
Soon.
For now, I am contented with my room. It smells of dampness, and I've turned the lights out to see the lightening better. For now it's only a candle - the smallest of fires - allowing me to see the largest of shocks. Thunder snarls across the sky. The foot soldiers, the rain drops, gather en masse. They march on humanity, and humanity hides.
I will make humanity hide.
I do not mean rain in just the simple sense of water falling from the sky, from the overburdened clouds. I mean it is this sort of rain that, if anything could, could make me believe in heaven. Because all of this - it must come from somewhere. I find it difficult to believe that the river, for all it's calm, could create something so monstrous.
Thunder is rolling almost constantly. I prefer to work in silence, or perhaps to the beat of a waltz, or - if I am truly feeling rebellious, some classic rock pre-Revelation. Though right now I would hate to be in the silence. When I returned home, it was uncomfortably warm. Mazikeen wasn't home yet. I read a little bit, worked on black tie's menu (added two dishes of my own, a veal dish, and a vegetarian entree) and thumbed through the research I was doing on Ichimaru.
The storm started suddenly. I've been watching it since. I would have gone outside and stood in the rain, had I not already showered and cleaned up for the night.
Nature is my favorite mysterious darling, far up there with Gin. She keeps us alive, keeps us well and grows our food, yet at the same time, her destruction is on a level humanity cannot comprehend. In a day she can kill hundreds of millions by pulling the Earth apart; She can drown small countries. Her lava is indifferent, beautiful, deadly, and there is no escape.
These rains - I admire them. I admire the sudden cracks through the sky, lightening tearing open the darkness before sulking off. I admire the deep, wide sounds of thunder, and sometimes I can almost imagine those rolling soundwaves, crashing and growling. Are you angry at us, Earth, for melding you for us? Would you have me destroy my home for your pleasure, so that I would flee from your every threat?
The windows are open and the room smells like rain and wet soil. Under normal circumstances, this would be unacceptable.
For now, I only wish my halves could be so mysterious as hers.
Soon, when I roar, the whole city will hear me. Beggars will run for cover; the electricity will short out. When I point and gesture to those I will have destroyed, their houses will alight and their lives will darken.
Soon.
For now, I am contented with my room. It smells of dampness, and I've turned the lights out to see the lightening better. For now it's only a candle - the smallest of fires - allowing me to see the largest of shocks. Thunder snarls across the sky. The foot soldiers, the rain drops, gather en masse. They march on humanity, and humanity hides.
I will make humanity hide.