Slave Challenge - Saeva - Entry #1
Furious Angels
Life, as death falls all around
Author's Notes: Short and stylistic; I blame Chuck Palahniuk.
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The controls are slick and blue and yellow, lit up and damp underneath your sweaty palms as you ride cowboy to your sense of freedom, towards the bright, white light at the end of the spaceless, expansive black tunnel of the cosmos.
From here you can see the flying angels, little darts of smooth movement and light. They are the angels of death and they are impervious to your existence.
You ride on, gunning it, steady and silent and smooth, like perfection. For a moment you are perfection.
It's beautiful, in the way these things are, a final moment of total absolution.
In another moment you'll be dead; in this moment you've never been more alive.
You live. Complete and without regret and certain in your action.
You die. The world explodes in light and, then, colour, like the blood is seeping through the sky and burning it.
You live again. Safe and coddled on the deck of a vessel that will be salvation. The angels fall, but you live.
You always were a slave to your impulses.
<<<<
Thoughts, comments, and criticisms welcomed.
- Andrea.
Life, as death falls all around
Author's Notes: Short and stylistic; I blame Chuck Palahniuk.
>>>>
The controls are slick and blue and yellow, lit up and damp underneath your sweaty palms as you ride cowboy to your sense of freedom, towards the bright, white light at the end of the spaceless, expansive black tunnel of the cosmos.
From here you can see the flying angels, little darts of smooth movement and light. They are the angels of death and they are impervious to your existence.
You ride on, gunning it, steady and silent and smooth, like perfection. For a moment you are perfection.
It's beautiful, in the way these things are, a final moment of total absolution.
In another moment you'll be dead; in this moment you've never been more alive.
You live. Complete and without regret and certain in your action.
You die. The world explodes in light and, then, colour, like the blood is seeping through the sky and burning it.
You live again. Safe and coddled on the deck of a vessel that will be salvation. The angels fall, but you live.
You always were a slave to your impulses.
<<<<
Thoughts, comments, and criticisms welcomed.
- Andrea.