i'm bored. i'm listening to some music. and i've been reading a Neil Gaiman book. i think i'm going to BS you guys a story. it probably wont ever get a name. sorry.
Walking along a long stretch of desert highway. Bare feet slap and drag across the poorly cared for blacktop. Been walking for hours. With singed sunburned skin and sweat running down his face like a river cutting through an untouched countryside, weaving and meandering and joining untill finally plunging off a cliff into oblivion.
Finally the walking ends and exhaustion takes over into a dreamless deep sleep. Only to wake in the dark hours of the night, under a clear night after the moon had gone down and the warm glow along with it.
Standing now, confused and looking around. Suddenly a bright light hits his eyes and the blinding glare gives way to a shape of a woman.
"wha....who are you? what do you want? where am i?" he utters in a string of almost incoherent rambling.
"shhh, do not speak. just listen" the figure demanded in a kind and understanding soft velvety voice. the voice started up again "you have been chosen. i can not tell you for what, you know in your heart what truly your quest will be. i am only here to tell you that it is time you fallow your heart, that you listen to any others like myself you may meet in your travels. I wont tell you that you are not in danger, because mortal life is always in danger of being taken, much like an apple plucked from a tree. But i tell you this, your journy is no more dangerous then what you do to yourself now. Sleep now, you have much to do in coming hours."
And as quickly as she was there, it was dark again, not a sound, not even a spot in his eyes from the light. He could see as clearly in the dark as before. But now he rested down, as if on a feather bed, and slept very well.
In the morning he awoke with the sun, the sound of distant birds in the distance. The road was still empty of any life, or cars. Walking again, with a skip in his step, he moves quickly and with reason. Unknowing as to what quest she spoke of. Or even to where he was going. He was walking without thinking about it, his feet knew, his heart knew, he was on a journy now, one where he was a passanger till the final moment when it all made sense.
~~~
ok, so i'm just starting it now. tell me what you think.