Phil
On top of the world
Total Posts:
87
Joined:
Sun Jan 25, 2004 5:00 pm
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I started writing this one night, and I have no idea why, or where I want to take it. Writing like this is something unusual for me (I usually stick to nonfic [essays, news articles, etc], and when I've felt the urge to write before, it's mostly been to do fantasy stories with excessive aims), so I'd appreciate any comments on the style (as there's not a lot of subject yet).
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The sun was just beginning its slow descent over the distant hills. From the middle of a large field, Harry looked up from his basket and watched it slide down the sky for a while. Sighing, he collected his day's worth of work and headed back to the house. He had been doing this same routine for many years now. After a while, he lost count and they all seemed to blend together.
Just like every other night, he put his things away, showered, and went to the kitchen to make some dinner. As he waited for a pot of water to boil, he watched the last rays of the sun disappear. It was a clearer night than most, but the stars seemed dimmer than usual. Harry reached for a nearby rag and wiped off the window, figuring that it had probably gotten dusty.
But dust wasn't the problem; the stars still seemed to shine less brightly. By now, though, his water was boiling and his attention turned to preparing his meal. That the stars seemed different slipped into the back of mind and was soon forgotten.
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Miles away, a young woman, barely out of her teens, sat on a chair in her studio apartment and longingly gazed out into the distance. This was her routine; she had done this every night for the last year, ever since Max had taken her away from everything she'd ever known and then left her alone. Her attention was mostly turned to the comings and goings of the people and cars on the streets below; tonight, though, she kept finding herself staring at the stars.
As a young girl, she'd been fascinated by the stars; then her and her family moved to the city, and suddenly it seemed most of the stars were gone. Since then, she had never really paid any mind to them. Streetlights became her stars; the headlights of cars her comets.
She found it strange that after all these years, she would find herself gazing into space. The stars didn't hold any mystery for her; she had been a science nut and read nearly every book in the school library about space. To her, stars were just balls of fire. They didn't captivate her, or hold the promise of granting wishes.
On this night, she found herself wishing that they did. All she wanted was go back in time, back to when life was simpler, when the stars were magical; back to a time before everything changed.
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