It is the early hours of a dying day. The light slowly dimming out. Nature telling its beings that one must rest now. While the said higher beings do just the opposite. Congress in groups, under shady, distorted lights, to indulge in intoxication, numbing out their minds, letting their bodies do all the talking. While these creatures throw reasoning out of the box, resort to their instinctual nature. Hoping to wake up to a false sense of security in the company of another.
A few lurk around quietly, slipping through the mainstream crowd, head into certain brighter parts of the city. Surrounded by the faint aroma of coffee beans and wood.
One particular creature. It seems to have slipped out of this practice for a while now. Makes its way into the said sanctuary. Not quite sure what one does here. Goes upto the counter. Grabs a drink, half heated as some valuable paper slips out for the exchange. Bound by obligation to do so, for it Desires both a subtle flavor to wet its palette, and hide away from reality for a few moments, it treasures those moments.
An escape from the realm of mankind. Into a Pandora, also a product of the same reality it dwells in, the irony.
Observant. Quiet. Talks to itself in its mind. Makes mental notes about the aesthetics and architecture. Just keeping its mind busy while it seems to be doing nothing to its surroundings.
The Batista speaks the creatures name as he sets it down on the counter.
Grabs said commodity that it overpaid for, slowly makes its way up the stairs.
Grabs said commodity that it overpaid for, slowly makes its way up the stairs.
Finds a well lit spot. Sets down belongings. Makes itself comfortable.
Looks around.
Scans its surroundings for something, itself not being sure what it looks for, then pulls out a scripture from a contraption it carries. The creature dwells in a society that revolves around validation. Pulls out another handheld contraption, a social media sphere, captures the moment and shares it. Craves to be validated. While it also seeks alone time.
Looks around.
Scans its surroundings for something, itself not being sure what it looks for, then pulls out a scripture from a contraption it carries. The creature dwells in a society that revolves around validation. Pulls out another handheld contraption, a social media sphere, captures the moment and shares it. Craves to be validated. While it also seeks alone time.
Funny this creature.
As the night unfurls, the beings start to come to life, in front of our subject. A figment of ones imagination, manifesting in another's mind, Just fascinating how these creatures crave to dwell so much in another's or a fantasy of their own, the thought of existing in reality is nauseating to their species. Real life is too hard. UNREAL....
The irony.
Today a tale of a being, neither man nor an immortal. An Endless, the keeper of dreams, the one who has a bunch of songs and literary verses dedicated to him. The sandman, Morpheus they call him and yet another infamous being, the one we blame for all our sins, the manifestation of true evil ( or so they say) The first rebel, god's favorite son, The condemned Angel, Samael or should we say Lucifer Morning star.
This Creature Draws lines of similarity with the devil himself, so it believes that anything unconventional is rejected by the society, out of the mainstream and you don't belong, you cant fit in, you don't even get a vote of choice, your fate has been decided, do not deviate from your path or so you shall be thrown away into the 9 circles of Hell.
The strength to step outside the fixed certainties of the word, was unique to a few and our reader believed that such courage deserved respect, not punishment.
