Post by The Stargazer on Aug 6, 2007 21:54:36 GMT -5
The Light - Chapter I
The Light - Chapter II
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Desolate man, parted from the world. Nobody sees him, except the ones who knew. But in his eyes, he is roguishly sure, that this isn't how it's supposed to be. He wanders the streets, with a near empty bottle of wine in his hands. He is cold from the rain and wind, his tattered red suit, keeps him warm. He is on his own, with no direction of home, a complete unknown. That very man, had an eerie dream, that would tell that nothing is as it should be.
"Did you dream?..." Father Mathie sends his good word upon the waves of time and reality.
Michael is with the fiddler, again. It's been 4 days since the good Father let him in on a 700 year old secret, God has more than one trick up his sleeve. The fiddler beckons for Michael's audience, his attention is sporadic, nobody will ever know why. The fiddler and Michael are floating above a thriving metropolis, looks like New York City. The fiddler begins to play his fiddle, it's the most horrific sound Michael had ever seen. They are all of the sudden floating a few yards above the street, over looking a dark alley. The desolate man is presently sleeping, so cold in the night.
"Why have you brought me here, old man?", Michael commands.
The fiddler gives no action of a response.
"Who is this man?", a command once again.
After a few strenuous moments, a couple of bar patrons come stumbling out of the adjacent bar, so drunk Michael could smell the liquor from the skies. The fiddler and his companion watch the two men stumble over a trash can, laughing hysterically. They spot the desolate man, sipping n his bottle, savoring each taste. The two drunkards smile a villainous smile, the desolate man gives both men a pure, light filling smile, almost welcoming them into what he calls home. The two drunk men start marching softly into the alley, kicking empty bottles, one actually hit the man in the head, it was nothing but amusement for the drunks. The larger drunk see a puppy dog, it had escaped from the clutches of the desolate one. The drunk kicked the dog and it bounced off a trash can, the poor man leaned in surprise, his eyes now as wide as saucers.
"No...", the only words the desolate man said.
"Yo Tony, you know what I see sittin' ovah theyah'?", one of the men asked.
"Nah Paul, what is it?", Tony asked laughing hysterically.
"I see a man who's wishing he had never step foot in this alley, hahahah!!", the skinnier man stated.
Michael looked upon this site, his heart felt like it was trying to break the sound barrier, the Fiddler gazed upon the site, emotionless. Michael was attempting to break the grasp the Fiddler has upon him.
"What the fuck is this, old man! What the fuck do you want me to do!? That man is about to die!", Michael screamed at the fiddler.
The two men heard a faint voice, they looked upon each other confusingly, then went back to their own personal amusement. the fiddler then slowly looked upon Michael, he tilted his head ever so slightly. Michael just looked upon his face, his mouth closed, teeth smashed together, his eyes turned upwards, a single tear rolling down his cheek. The fiddler put his finger on Michael's face, to catch the tear, he looked at it, then back at the frightened Michael.
"Indeed...you wish this man to live?", the fiddler finally spoke.
Michael couldn't believe the words, almost as if this old fiddler wished the poor man dead.
"What do you mean, 'do I wish this man to live'!? Of course I do, hes a poor man with nothing else to live for except for his puppy!", Michael screamed at the fiddler.
Michael without a moment's hesitation, as almost like he always knew flew down to the alley. His hope and light lifted him, the dreamworld hence aloud it. He gazed upon the puppy, who now has multiple broken bones in his body.
The fiddler, now smiling, watches Michael.
"This will never stand..." Michael said.
Michael leaned down, and he picked up the broken puppy's body, and held him in his arms, squeezing ever so slightly. The puppy now, as a miracle from the heavens, was as happy as ever, once again.
He barked in happiness, it echoed through the alley.
The two drunk men, turned quickly to see the most frightening, 'awe' inspiring scene they had ever set their eyes on. Paul, dropped to his knees on the spot, where Tony just backed up a dozen steps, tripping over trash cans and beer bottles.
The desolate man, who was now crying in happiness reached his arms out for his companion, Michael obliged. The puppy jumped out of his arms and ran over to his friend, where the man enjoyed the company of his dog once again.
Michael in his eyes, was just himself. Yet in the eyes of others, Michael had sprouted wings the size of the walls that encased the desolate man's home. A giant 'halo' was above Michael's head, and he was emitting light as bright as the sun, and as warm as a blanket on a cold night. The two drunk men were shocked, speechless and dumbfounded, an angel had come to help the desolate man. The skinnier of the drunks began to pray his hail mary, he then put his hands on the ground, and his face planted on the pavement. Whilst the other drunk backed up as far as he could back up, against the wall of the alley. Michael walked up to the poor man, who's eyes were glassy from all the tears he was crying.
"Death be not proud, tho some have called thee mighty and dreadful...", the poor man claimed.
"...Thou art not so", Michael finishing the poem.
Michael's voice was powerful, a thousand other voices was echoing in his own.
'click'
'BOOOOM'
The shot was heard in the alley, the larger drunk shot out into the night, the bullet missed Michael and hit the poor man in the temple, killing him instantly. Michael was startled by the act, he jumped back a step, the puppy was frightened, he hid. in a trash can. Michael then leaned down at the poor desolate man, his eyes were opened, tears still rolling down his cheek.
"I don't know what the fuck you are man! But I have more bullets!!", Tony screamed.
The fiddler knew it was the poor man's time, he flew down slowly to the alley. Michael then knelt down hard onto the pavement, he had his hands up near his face, his breathing hard, his face surprised, he just looked upon the man's body. The skinnier of the two men ran off into the night, while the bigger one just shook in his place, holding up a gun, loaded.
"What did you do...what did you do..." Michael was stunned beyond the capacity of a rational thought.
The fiddler came down, invisible to those unworthy, only Michael could notice him. He put his hand on Michaels shoulder, and knelt down with him.
"Old man, who was this?", Michael asked, sobbing apparent in his voice.
The large gunman was confused at Michael's question.
"He was just some bum!", the gunman yelled.
"This man was a prophet, a messenger to the word, upon mortal men, he is nothing. Yet upon those who know, he is the embodiment of purity", the fiddler explained.
The desolate man's blood began to spill on the ground, Michael put his hand in it, warm. The fiddler gave Michael a look of completeness.
"He will dream, Michael"
"What?"
----------
Michael awoke suddenly from his dream, in a gasp of relief, as if he was underwater for several minutes. He then started to scramble in his bed, putting himself in the fetal position, not realizing what he had just dreamed.
The sound of barking dog in the church window startled him. Michael got up, still scared out of his mind, he went to the sink and mirror, he washed his face. Even though he had slept almost an entire day and night, his face dare not show it. Bags under his eyes, the eyes themselves bloodshot. Michael sighed, and sat down at his bedside, back against the frame.
Michael got up after a few minutes, and walked out into the hallway, nobody was around. He put on his shoes, and a shirt and walked out to the monastery. He saw sister O'Brien talking to a man outside the gates of the church, he walked up to get a closer look.
"I'm sorry sir, we don't have any space. Try the shelter 2 blocks up, they should have space", the nun inquired.
The man gave a nod and started to walk off into the day.
"Who was it sister?", Michael asked.
"Oh Michael, you startled me. Some old chap looking for a shelter, but with the little space we already have, we couldn't afford it."
Michael looked confused.
"Did he have a puppy with him?", Michael hoped for the wrong answer.
"Yes, in his red suit, one was sitting. Darling little thing, looked to be more well fed than he was. Yet the pup seemed to have a broken hind leg."
He didn't get the answer.
"Oh, God..."
Michael sprinted to the gate, trying to get it open, he yanked it unlocked and swung it open.
"Michael! What's wrong!?"
Michael rushed out past the path to try and notice the man.
He was gone.
So was Michael's hopes.
FADE TO THE DREAMWORLD
To Be Continued...
The Light - Chapter II
----------
Desolate man, parted from the world. Nobody sees him, except the ones who knew. But in his eyes, he is roguishly sure, that this isn't how it's supposed to be. He wanders the streets, with a near empty bottle of wine in his hands. He is cold from the rain and wind, his tattered red suit, keeps him warm. He is on his own, with no direction of home, a complete unknown. That very man, had an eerie dream, that would tell that nothing is as it should be.
"Did you dream?..." Father Mathie sends his good word upon the waves of time and reality.
Michael is with the fiddler, again. It's been 4 days since the good Father let him in on a 700 year old secret, God has more than one trick up his sleeve. The fiddler beckons for Michael's audience, his attention is sporadic, nobody will ever know why. The fiddler and Michael are floating above a thriving metropolis, looks like New York City. The fiddler begins to play his fiddle, it's the most horrific sound Michael had ever seen. They are all of the sudden floating a few yards above the street, over looking a dark alley. The desolate man is presently sleeping, so cold in the night.
"Why have you brought me here, old man?", Michael commands.
The fiddler gives no action of a response.
"Who is this man?", a command once again.
After a few strenuous moments, a couple of bar patrons come stumbling out of the adjacent bar, so drunk Michael could smell the liquor from the skies. The fiddler and his companion watch the two men stumble over a trash can, laughing hysterically. They spot the desolate man, sipping n his bottle, savoring each taste. The two drunkards smile a villainous smile, the desolate man gives both men a pure, light filling smile, almost welcoming them into what he calls home. The two drunk men start marching softly into the alley, kicking empty bottles, one actually hit the man in the head, it was nothing but amusement for the drunks. The larger drunk see a puppy dog, it had escaped from the clutches of the desolate one. The drunk kicked the dog and it bounced off a trash can, the poor man leaned in surprise, his eyes now as wide as saucers.
"No...", the only words the desolate man said.
"Yo Tony, you know what I see sittin' ovah theyah'?", one of the men asked.
"Nah Paul, what is it?", Tony asked laughing hysterically.
"I see a man who's wishing he had never step foot in this alley, hahahah!!", the skinnier man stated.
Michael looked upon this site, his heart felt like it was trying to break the sound barrier, the Fiddler gazed upon the site, emotionless. Michael was attempting to break the grasp the Fiddler has upon him.
"What the fuck is this, old man! What the fuck do you want me to do!? That man is about to die!", Michael screamed at the fiddler.
The two men heard a faint voice, they looked upon each other confusingly, then went back to their own personal amusement. the fiddler then slowly looked upon Michael, he tilted his head ever so slightly. Michael just looked upon his face, his mouth closed, teeth smashed together, his eyes turned upwards, a single tear rolling down his cheek. The fiddler put his finger on Michael's face, to catch the tear, he looked at it, then back at the frightened Michael.
"Indeed...you wish this man to live?", the fiddler finally spoke.
Michael couldn't believe the words, almost as if this old fiddler wished the poor man dead.
"What do you mean, 'do I wish this man to live'!? Of course I do, hes a poor man with nothing else to live for except for his puppy!", Michael screamed at the fiddler.
Michael without a moment's hesitation, as almost like he always knew flew down to the alley. His hope and light lifted him, the dreamworld hence aloud it. He gazed upon the puppy, who now has multiple broken bones in his body.
The fiddler, now smiling, watches Michael.
"This will never stand..." Michael said.
Michael leaned down, and he picked up the broken puppy's body, and held him in his arms, squeezing ever so slightly. The puppy now, as a miracle from the heavens, was as happy as ever, once again.
He barked in happiness, it echoed through the alley.
The two drunk men, turned quickly to see the most frightening, 'awe' inspiring scene they had ever set their eyes on. Paul, dropped to his knees on the spot, where Tony just backed up a dozen steps, tripping over trash cans and beer bottles.
The desolate man, who was now crying in happiness reached his arms out for his companion, Michael obliged. The puppy jumped out of his arms and ran over to his friend, where the man enjoyed the company of his dog once again.
Michael in his eyes, was just himself. Yet in the eyes of others, Michael had sprouted wings the size of the walls that encased the desolate man's home. A giant 'halo' was above Michael's head, and he was emitting light as bright as the sun, and as warm as a blanket on a cold night. The two drunk men were shocked, speechless and dumbfounded, an angel had come to help the desolate man. The skinnier of the drunks began to pray his hail mary, he then put his hands on the ground, and his face planted on the pavement. Whilst the other drunk backed up as far as he could back up, against the wall of the alley. Michael walked up to the poor man, who's eyes were glassy from all the tears he was crying.
"Death be not proud, tho some have called thee mighty and dreadful...", the poor man claimed.
"...Thou art not so", Michael finishing the poem.
Michael's voice was powerful, a thousand other voices was echoing in his own.
'click'
'BOOOOM'
The shot was heard in the alley, the larger drunk shot out into the night, the bullet missed Michael and hit the poor man in the temple, killing him instantly. Michael was startled by the act, he jumped back a step, the puppy was frightened, he hid. in a trash can. Michael then leaned down at the poor desolate man, his eyes were opened, tears still rolling down his cheek.
"I don't know what the fuck you are man! But I have more bullets!!", Tony screamed.
The fiddler knew it was the poor man's time, he flew down slowly to the alley. Michael then knelt down hard onto the pavement, he had his hands up near his face, his breathing hard, his face surprised, he just looked upon the man's body. The skinnier of the two men ran off into the night, while the bigger one just shook in his place, holding up a gun, loaded.
"What did you do...what did you do..." Michael was stunned beyond the capacity of a rational thought.
The fiddler came down, invisible to those unworthy, only Michael could notice him. He put his hand on Michaels shoulder, and knelt down with him.
"Old man, who was this?", Michael asked, sobbing apparent in his voice.
The large gunman was confused at Michael's question.
"He was just some bum!", the gunman yelled.
"This man was a prophet, a messenger to the word, upon mortal men, he is nothing. Yet upon those who know, he is the embodiment of purity", the fiddler explained.
The desolate man's blood began to spill on the ground, Michael put his hand in it, warm. The fiddler gave Michael a look of completeness.
"He will dream, Michael"
"What?"
----------
Michael awoke suddenly from his dream, in a gasp of relief, as if he was underwater for several minutes. He then started to scramble in his bed, putting himself in the fetal position, not realizing what he had just dreamed.
The sound of barking dog in the church window startled him. Michael got up, still scared out of his mind, he went to the sink and mirror, he washed his face. Even though he had slept almost an entire day and night, his face dare not show it. Bags under his eyes, the eyes themselves bloodshot. Michael sighed, and sat down at his bedside, back against the frame.
Michael got up after a few minutes, and walked out into the hallway, nobody was around. He put on his shoes, and a shirt and walked out to the monastery. He saw sister O'Brien talking to a man outside the gates of the church, he walked up to get a closer look.
"I'm sorry sir, we don't have any space. Try the shelter 2 blocks up, they should have space", the nun inquired.
The man gave a nod and started to walk off into the day.
"Who was it sister?", Michael asked.
"Oh Michael, you startled me. Some old chap looking for a shelter, but with the little space we already have, we couldn't afford it."
Michael looked confused.
"Did he have a puppy with him?", Michael hoped for the wrong answer.
"Yes, in his red suit, one was sitting. Darling little thing, looked to be more well fed than he was. Yet the pup seemed to have a broken hind leg."
He didn't get the answer.
"Oh, God..."
Michael sprinted to the gate, trying to get it open, he yanked it unlocked and swung it open.
"Michael! What's wrong!?"
Michael rushed out past the path to try and notice the man.
He was gone.
So was Michael's hopes.
FADE TO THE DREAMWORLD
To Be Continued...
