Whiskerino 2009

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  • posted: December 22 @ 8:59pm
It was near. Time seemed to slow down to him then, as he entered the poor resident's room. It was near and he could hear it calling out to him, as surely as a swallow calls to its mate.

He knew it would be well hidden, but no man could expect him to have this bond with what appeared to be such a useless trinket. He could already feel it's polished surface in his hand, feel the gentle weight of it pressing down on his open palm.

He was sweating. For over a year now, he had been searching for it. He thought it destroyed, then lost, but to find it stolen so callously from under his nose--that, he took personally. In his search, he had followed the trail from owner to owner, each one using their little bit of magic from it, never knowing it's true meaning, before handing it along. It called out to people, subconsciously. Wanderlust. Never staying for too long.

He thinks he can tame it. A map, he had drawn out, with every externality accounted for. A diagram for every eventuality; for each dilemma, a prescription. He would conquer it, make it his.

It was here, in this room. It was waiting for someone.

That someone had come.


David W. says:
We all knew it would happen!
Posted: Dec 22nd, 2009 - 9:01pm -
Johnny Rebellious says:
This is phenomenal. I love it.
Posted: Dec 22nd, 2009 - 9:18pm -
benfrank says:
Posted: Dec 23rd, 2009 - 5:05am -
Site closed!
Whiskerino. fin.