Beginning of an End
Reason sighed. He always had to do all the dirty work. He had been right again, but his voice had went unheard, thanks to that fool brother of his, Love. He couldn't understand why their master always listened to that idiot's rants, and no matter how well he presented his argument. It was not his place to question the master, only to carry out his bidding. So, this brought him to that all familiar place, the graveyard. As he walked down the beaten path, he glanced at the tombstones, each with a name, each with a story. Each, a time his moronic brother had won out. He hoped someday his master would learn. He hated coming here, being reminder of his failure to win out. How his brother came from the same lineage as he did, baffled him. He was cool and calm as he sat on the Throne of Logic and Rationality. He has sat on that throne for 20 years, and had made few mistakes in those years. But that fool, Keeper of Emotion and Feeling...he was another story. Impulsive, irrational, unfocused, stubborn...those were a few of his qualities...the better ones. He once questioned why he was needed around. "He just is." What an answer!?! He would never understand.
He berated himself for letting his mind wonder again, but realized his feet had taken him to where he needed to be. A new grave marker, a fresh grave, a fresh start. Things might go back to normal now, just how he liked it. The coffin had already been lowered, feelings for one that couldn't be allowed to roam free anymore. He picked up the shovel, and dug it deep into the fresh dirt. He sensed his brother wailing somewhere, about how it was too soon, and it needed to be given time. But the wounds had been given, and now it was time to heal. If left free, these rogue feelings would simply open these wounds again and again. He shoveled the first batch of dirt onto the coffin, and his brain exploded with pain, he could feel the anguish of his brother. He was sickened with himself, that he actually felt sorry for Love. He had gotten himself into this, and as much as Reason tried to berate him for it, somewhere he knew it was what Love had to do. He rubbed his temple, and shoveled a few more piles of dirt on top, so that a thin layer spread over the coffin top. He stopped, and didn't know why. Maybe out of sympathy for Love, he didn't know. "Oh well," he thought, "I can finish this another day." And he left to go comfort his brother. He was family, after all.
"Everything in its place," he thought, as he walked away, "eventually."
He berated himself for letting his mind wonder again, but realized his feet had taken him to where he needed to be. A new grave marker, a fresh grave, a fresh start. Things might go back to normal now, just how he liked it. The coffin had already been lowered, feelings for one that couldn't be allowed to roam free anymore. He picked up the shovel, and dug it deep into the fresh dirt. He sensed his brother wailing somewhere, about how it was too soon, and it needed to be given time. But the wounds had been given, and now it was time to heal. If left free, these rogue feelings would simply open these wounds again and again. He shoveled the first batch of dirt onto the coffin, and his brain exploded with pain, he could feel the anguish of his brother. He was sickened with himself, that he actually felt sorry for Love. He had gotten himself into this, and as much as Reason tried to berate him for it, somewhere he knew it was what Love had to do. He rubbed his temple, and shoveled a few more piles of dirt on top, so that a thin layer spread over the coffin top. He stopped, and didn't know why. Maybe out of sympathy for Love, he didn't know. "Oh well," he thought, "I can finish this another day." And he left to go comfort his brother. He was family, after all.
"Everything in its place," he thought, as he walked away, "eventually."