07-21-2020, 01:24 AM
[align=center][div style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; width: 60%; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]Within the tides of longing hope may be found, no matter how meagre it may seem. From shores dressed within fine grains of sun bleached sand had once they walked, of a sweet note the joy that had laid atop the gentle curl of poorly worn smile. Peace wove through the aching chambers of caged heart, settled there within a weight tangible and comforting. But a fragmented remnant, a sickening notion of homesickness burrowed within those channels now, crumpled beneath trembling paws the once pristine sheet.
Low set table proved a mess, chaotic the gathering of carefully chosen supplies. Poor the construction of memory, a day not long ago where once another had filled the space by their side, small felt the child next to her, wreathed in a halo of glitter. Solitary the acts of creation, crumpled mess of balled up discarded projects littering table and floor alike. Tacky had grown the paint decorating the pale field of mussed coat, strands stuck together until ivory bore a multitude of hues, unmasked the sorrow worn on crestfallen visage even for this messy covering. Scene as had once been was laid out, golden the sands figures walked across, twins of ivory bearing lopsided smiles against poorly drawn faces.
Brief the notion of destruction, removing from all the offending figure, aside left in favour of what occupied the present, a part of their history best left to the dust and shadows. Yet minute the tears left as their paws lifted from their resting place, broken the bitter laughter trailing along their tongue. Of familiarity and comfort were they, gentle if bitterly sweet the tentatively held moments. Care marked the transfer of the drying painting, time whittled away within the process of cleaning their workplace, yet such may distract for only so long. All too soon there was nothing else they may trick themself into believing needed immediate tending, adrift within the turbulent waves of unruly thoughts.
Frown crowned pale lips as forth swung door upon silent hinges, scene familiar laid before them. Open the expanse of collected sand, where all had begun and end may be expected, hollowed their bones beneath the aching keen of want. Yet still the tongue of beast bearing draconic lineage, quiet the click of door as they departed home to which recently had they returned. Aimless the wandering that drew them along the empty shoreline, preoccupied those few perceived as little more than shifting masses of colour. Of them were they, lighter the laughter that arose when recalled the mess of their coat. Towards the welcoming hush of low tide did attention turn, set upon removing the offending cover that marred ivory strands.
The bell.
Known to all that had come to inhabit the tropical fragment of earth the bright toll that rang forth from, heralded the approach of another, respite sought among them. For a moment aside was it brushed, unnecessary their own inclusion among proceedings better suited to that of the elder few. Possibly it was a quiet sense of hope, fleeting dregs entangled among the hopeless beat of acceptance, that saw them pivot upon their heels. Slow the progress drawing Eulia forward, hesitance marking each step that settled against the earth, another present when at last did proximity allow recognition to arise.
Twin she who wore a coat of ivory, if weighed by salt water that fell from her coat in slowing rivets, about her visage worn a grin that brought to tentative life one of their own. Closer did they creep, allowing the conversation that had begun prior to their approach to continue, speaking only when a lull of brief silence allowed it. "Diya…"
Low set table proved a mess, chaotic the gathering of carefully chosen supplies. Poor the construction of memory, a day not long ago where once another had filled the space by their side, small felt the child next to her, wreathed in a halo of glitter. Solitary the acts of creation, crumpled mess of balled up discarded projects littering table and floor alike. Tacky had grown the paint decorating the pale field of mussed coat, strands stuck together until ivory bore a multitude of hues, unmasked the sorrow worn on crestfallen visage even for this messy covering. Scene as had once been was laid out, golden the sands figures walked across, twins of ivory bearing lopsided smiles against poorly drawn faces.
Brief the notion of destruction, removing from all the offending figure, aside left in favour of what occupied the present, a part of their history best left to the dust and shadows. Yet minute the tears left as their paws lifted from their resting place, broken the bitter laughter trailing along their tongue. Of familiarity and comfort were they, gentle if bitterly sweet the tentatively held moments. Care marked the transfer of the drying painting, time whittled away within the process of cleaning their workplace, yet such may distract for only so long. All too soon there was nothing else they may trick themself into believing needed immediate tending, adrift within the turbulent waves of unruly thoughts.
Frown crowned pale lips as forth swung door upon silent hinges, scene familiar laid before them. Open the expanse of collected sand, where all had begun and end may be expected, hollowed their bones beneath the aching keen of want. Yet still the tongue of beast bearing draconic lineage, quiet the click of door as they departed home to which recently had they returned. Aimless the wandering that drew them along the empty shoreline, preoccupied those few perceived as little more than shifting masses of colour. Of them were they, lighter the laughter that arose when recalled the mess of their coat. Towards the welcoming hush of low tide did attention turn, set upon removing the offending cover that marred ivory strands.
The bell.
Known to all that had come to inhabit the tropical fragment of earth the bright toll that rang forth from, heralded the approach of another, respite sought among them. For a moment aside was it brushed, unnecessary their own inclusion among proceedings better suited to that of the elder few. Possibly it was a quiet sense of hope, fleeting dregs entangled among the hopeless beat of acceptance, that saw them pivot upon their heels. Slow the progress drawing Eulia forward, hesitance marking each step that settled against the earth, another present when at last did proximity allow recognition to arise.
Twin she who wore a coat of ivory, if weighed by salt water that fell from her coat in slowing rivets, about her visage worn a grin that brought to tentative life one of their own. Closer did they creep, allowing the conversation that had begun prior to their approach to continue, speaking only when a lull of brief silence allowed it. "Diya…"