Post by kiwi cheesecake on Sept 10, 2016 15:49:05 GMT -5
I wrote it in school in like 10 minutes, and then I never got to read it aloud because I was sick the next day. So I figure I'll share it with the forums!
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It started out small. A small, golden seed, rooted deep inside herself. She didn't know it was there yet. No one knew it was there. And it hovered on the edge of oblivion and fruition, hidden in a silent purgatory. But she dreamt. And as she dreamt, she felt it. Heard it. Saw it. And the seed pulsed with golden light as she reached out her hand to catch it. She felt it. Heard it. Saw it. And she formed it to herself, made it her own. She created. And she knew that this was hers. And it was perfect. It was beautiful. She pulled out the light, and it arced across the sky in golden beams, glistening and bright. And beautiful. And perfect. And she knew it. So she called the others to her, and showed the light she had shaped and formed to them. But they could not see its beauty. "You can do better," they said. She didn't understand. She saw it was beautiful and perfect. But they could not. "You can do better," they said. And, eventually, she came to believe them. And so she reached inside herself again, and grasped the golden seed, and poured out its light once more across the sky. She twisted and spun it's crystalline beauty into spirals, whirlwinds, that danced in the dark blue. And it was beautiful. And perfect. And she knew it. So she called the others to her, and showed them her new creation. But they could not see its beauty. "It has no form," they said. She didn't understand. She didn't think it needed a form. It was beautiful. It was perfect. "It has no form," they insisted. And, eventually, she came to believe them. And so she reached into herself again, and searched for the golden seed. But it took her longer to find it. And when she did, its light was beginning to fade. But she reached into the seed and spun its pale light into shapes, trees and clouds and birds sleeping in the sky. And she knew that this was beautiful. And... perfect. And so she called the others to her, and showed them her new forms. But they could not see any beauty. "That's not right," they scoffed. "It's the wrong color." She didn't understand. Why was color important? It was still beautiful. Wasn't it? "That's not right," they chided. And, eventually, she came to believe them. And so she reached into herself, and searched for the seed and its light. But when she found it, only a faint silver orb remained, its light throbbing feebly against the pressing dark. She reached for it, intent on bringing the light forth again in all its wondrous golden glory. But all she could pull forth was a straight white line. And she knew it was beautiful. She thought she knew. She thought it was hers. She thought she knew. She thought it was...
perfect...
And so she called the others to her, and showed them what she had made. And they thought they knew. "That is beautiful," they smiled. "Keep up the good work." And she, tired as she was, lay down and fell asleep. But she did not dream. And the light, the seed that tried so hard to take root and bloom, faded away from her, and left into darkness.
~~~~~~~~
It started out small. A small, golden seed, rooted deep inside herself. She didn't know it was there yet. No one knew it was there. And it hovered on the edge of oblivion and fruition, hidden in a silent purgatory. But she dreamt. And as she dreamt, she felt it. Heard it. Saw it. And the seed pulsed with golden light as she reached out her hand to catch it. She felt it. Heard it. Saw it. And she formed it to herself, made it her own. She created. And she knew that this was hers. And it was perfect. It was beautiful. She pulled out the light, and it arced across the sky in golden beams, glistening and bright. And beautiful. And perfect. And she knew it. So she called the others to her, and showed the light she had shaped and formed to them. But they could not see its beauty. "You can do better," they said. She didn't understand. She saw it was beautiful and perfect. But they could not. "You can do better," they said. And, eventually, she came to believe them. And so she reached inside herself again, and grasped the golden seed, and poured out its light once more across the sky. She twisted and spun it's crystalline beauty into spirals, whirlwinds, that danced in the dark blue. And it was beautiful. And perfect. And she knew it. So she called the others to her, and showed them her new creation. But they could not see its beauty. "It has no form," they said. She didn't understand. She didn't think it needed a form. It was beautiful. It was perfect. "It has no form," they insisted. And, eventually, she came to believe them. And so she reached into herself again, and searched for the golden seed. But it took her longer to find it. And when she did, its light was beginning to fade. But she reached into the seed and spun its pale light into shapes, trees and clouds and birds sleeping in the sky. And she knew that this was beautiful. And... perfect. And so she called the others to her, and showed them her new forms. But they could not see any beauty. "That's not right," they scoffed. "It's the wrong color." She didn't understand. Why was color important? It was still beautiful. Wasn't it? "That's not right," they chided. And, eventually, she came to believe them. And so she reached into herself, and searched for the seed and its light. But when she found it, only a faint silver orb remained, its light throbbing feebly against the pressing dark. She reached for it, intent on bringing the light forth again in all its wondrous golden glory. But all she could pull forth was a straight white line. And she knew it was beautiful. She thought she knew. She thought it was hers. She thought she knew. She thought it was...
perfect...
And so she called the others to her, and showed them what she had made. And they thought they knew. "That is beautiful," they smiled. "Keep up the good work." And she, tired as she was, lay down and fell asleep. But she did not dream. And the light, the seed that tried so hard to take root and bloom, faded away from her, and left into darkness.
