NOIR. 9. In The Quiet Absence Of God

This is a series concering the Blue Sky Black Death's music album NOIR.
It ties in with the happiest moments of my life as it was there to witness them.
I would like you to see the images I see whenever I hear the songs.
Some of them feel very real, some of them are more abstract.

"BATTLE"

Everything is in slow motion.

Rains of arrows are falling down on the battlefield. Flaming arrows are dancing a deadly tango with heavy water drops. You can hear the rain slowly hitting pools of water and blood as men are clashing in the dark, damp mud. Thumping sounds of their swords and spears colliding in a ferocious battle reverberate in the open field, under the dome of black clouds.

As you're approaching closer to the battle, slow and agonizing screams of wounded men can be heard louder and more intensely. A sense of dread is a mist engulfing everything in its reach. Someone is cursing. Someone is taunting. Others are dying.

Zoom in on the faces. Faces covered in mud and dirt, blood and sweat. Expressions of anger, hatred, determination, pain. Teeth are showing, wounds are bleeding. Eyes have no colors, no soul is present inside. No glimmer of humanity. Berserker's trance.

Shattered shields are lying everywhere. Armor pieces are flying in all directions as cold steel is cutting their life short. It doesn't matter if something is standing or lying down, it's being peppered with flaming arrows and unstoppable spears. Rain is bringing no solace to those who fell. It only adds to the desperation.

It's all a field where dead corpses are flowers and spears stuck in the ground are trees.

Day doesn't care anymore. Only the night remains. It's watching us and wondering.

So do we, the ones who don't want to be here. We are forced to. When we lift our heads and look around we see destruction, death, mayhem everywhere. We caused it. We always do. But why?

Our numbers are dwindling but come next battle, new men will take place of the fallen.

But what for?

Why are we fighting?

What's the point?

Who can we turn to?

Is there anybody out there?

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Previous entries:

1. Our Hearts Of Ruin. "The Hill"
2. Sleeping Children Are Still Flying. "The Glow"
3. And Stars, Ringed. "The Seeds"
4. To The Ends Of The World. "To Dream"

5. Farewell To The Former World. "The Escape"
6. Falling Short. "Fear"
7. Gold In Gold Out. "Now Or Never"
8. Where Do We Go. "Connection"

NOIR. 8. Where Do We Go

This is a series concering the Blue Sky Black Death's music album NOIR.
It ties in with the happiest moments of my life as it was there to witness them.
I would like to help you see the images I see whenever I hear the songs.
Some of them feel very real, some of them are more abstract.

"CONNECTION"

There were two wooden benches at the riverbank. They were resting below a shade cast by a single tree that was growing right between them. I was sitting on one of the benches. The sun was shining again. When I turned my eyes to the ground, the shade looked like clouds covering the ground which was now sky, as if the world was reversed. My feet were placed on those 'clouds' and I stepped on them carefully, trying not to fall into the 'sun'.

It was a good, simple fun. In those peaceful moments you have for yourself you can do simple things and enjoy them. Make them up as you go and be creative and open-minded. Use your senses and be interested. Observe and take part. I can find plenty of interesting things to see around me. Even a patch of grass blowing in the wind can stop my thoughts in that moment in time, seemingly taking a picture of my mind.

As I sat there for a bit longer, now looking at a flock of birds flying over the river, I heard someone coming over and sitting on the other bench. I glanced in that direction and the person did so in my direction. We did not exchange any words but we acknowledged our presence. Slight nod of head can express many words. It's beautiful sometimes how people can talk without saying anything. There is something that fascinates me in this kind of communication. It seems to have a deeper sense of mutual understanding and connection.

Words can be deceptive. Words can lie a lot more often than the eyes. You can use many words to say many things but rarely all of them carry any significance to anything, or worse, they hurt other people a lot of the time. People should use words carefully. The world would benefit if people used words more sparingly, leaving out those insignificant words in meaningless sentences, used to make small talk or conveying thoughts that don't amount to anything.

Careful consideration and proper choice of words would help everyone get on better with each other. It would enable us to communicate in a deeper and more profound way. No deception, no lies, no meaningless babble.

Like that simple look in the eyes. When two people are open to see the other person, see them as an equal and are willing to share just a fraction of second in time to learn about each other, it creates something special.

We sat there for an hour. A big tree between our benches shifted the 'clouds' on the ground as time went by. We were always in the shade. It was a nice feeling, as gentle breeze was constantly finding its way from over the river to the benches. Weather was perfect and nature was marvelous.

We sat there on our own benches, in our own worlds. It felt like two planets of equal size and significance coexisting in a perfect manner. Even though we were separate beings, we were both part of the same universe. We built our own homes and our own realities and there was never any conflict. I wished it always was that simple.

There was no point dwelling on that. Instead, I opted to just enjoy this moment fully. Just take part in sharing a view and air with a stranger with whom I already had more of a connection than with many people I know well.

I was observing the nature and so was my neighbor, I felt. It was most likely the reason that that person came here. It's a perfect place for observing the nature and clearing your head. Sometimes I wondered how many times we both looked at the exact same thing in the exact same time. Like those birds. Not all of them, a particular one. It had to be a particular one for this game to work. To capture the exact same still frame in our minds seemed like an interesting phenomenon to me. It was an endless sea of possibilites with ever changing variables and us being the only constants in that reality. Yet again, simple fun.

At other times, my mind drifted toward more serious matters. We were both sitting in a perfect place for working out our problems and we were both aware of that. While I was trying to solve mine, I also knew the other person was most likely doing the same. I didn't want to know their issues, I'm not nosy. But I knew one thing: I wished them well. It was a strange type of kindness, a pure and unbiased hope that someone fares well. You can often find it in yourself without being aware of its presence. It's a great thing to be caught like that. Being able to feel it is one of the things that make you a decent person. You can see that in someone's eyes too. "I wish you well" are just plain words without honesty glowing from within the eyes.

Some time later I noticed it was starting to get late. The tree seemed to be done for the day, a good day of work and pleasure at the same time. It was a good moment to leave. We stood up from the benches almost at the same time. A coincidence, we both thought, as we exchanged looks for a second time and nodded again, this time with a glimmer of smile visible in the eyes. I knew we thanked each other for sharing that place and that time. We went our separate ways but I kept hoping that maybe we will cross our paths again. If not with that person, then with another one, much sooner than you'd think.

______________

Previous entries:

1. Our Hearts Of Ruin. "The Hill"
2. Sleeping Children Are Still Flying. "The Glow"
3. And Stars, Ringed. "The Seeds"
4. To The Ends Of The World. "To Dream"

5. Farewell To The Former World. "The Escape"
6. Falling Short. "Fear"
7. Gold In Gold Out. "Now Or Never"

NOIR. 7. Gold In Gold Out

This is a series concering the Blue Sky Black Death's music album NOIR.
It ties in with the happiest moments of my life as it was there to witness them.
I would like to help you see the images I see whenever I hear the songs.
Some of them feel very real, some of them are more abstract.

"NOW OR NEVER"

I woke up. My head felt absent and it took some blinking and eyebrow tilting before I was able to collect my sight and align it with other senses. As my touch returned I noticed my hands were pressed against a cold stone surface. It was of rectangular shape and took up around 15 square feet of space. I was sitting on top of a solitary tower, I soon discovered, as I looked around in confusion. There was nothing to be seen with bare eyes. Endless oceans of clouds and mist in every direction possible. Even if there were any paths to cross I wouldn't know where to go.

A wave of cold, fresh air gently brushed against my skin. It was very calming yet struck me with a sense of urgency. Like I was supposed to do something and do it fast.

I crawled carefully to one of the edges of the tower and quickly jumped back as dizziness caused by my fear of heights set in instantly. A scenario of me falling to a gruesome death crossed my mind like it always does when faced with a sight of a long distance below me. I couldn’t even guess how far down it was. In the brief moment I laid my eyes onto the depths I noticed flashes of light reflected in a liquid surface. 'Must have been water,' I thought. It was pierced with sharp edges resembling tree tops of giant pines. An underwater forest? I didn't know. I knew it wasn't looking very inviting. If I was to fall down I would end up spiked and drowned at the same time.

As I slowly made my way back to the center of the tower top I noticed a loose stone beneath my feet. After further inspection I saw multiple cracks running along the surface forming a tile that could be lifted up. Not wasting any time I began the excavation process. I struggled to grasp the tile. There was no place to maneuver the object and it was very heavy. But after a great effort and persistence it gave in, revealing a pocket of space. In this pocket of space I found a chest. If I wasn't feeling confused and slightly uneasy I'd probably have felt like a true treasure finder who just put his hands on a golden relic.

Filled with excitement and hope I lifted the chest on the surface, placed it next to me and began closer examination. The chest wasn't heavy. It was red, sturdy, well preserved and had no lock on it. It seemed to invite the lucky finder to open it. So I did.

After lifting the lid I saw four objects placed carefully onto a red velvet pillow. First item that drawn my eyes was a gold coated brass telescope. The second object was a compass. The third and fourth items were a torch and a single match. What was their purpose?

I took out the brass telescope. It was an old school nautical instrument. I couldn't tell if it was ever used; it seemed fairly new. It looked like a gift waiting to be unwrapped by someone. Me?

Bereft of any better ideas I decided to look through the telescope. The lens was dusty so I had to wipe it with my sleeve. When I put the telescope to my eyes I was astonished. Wow! I had to double check if what I was seeing was 'real', whatever that meant. I looked again without the telescope and through it again. What I saw was two different things. Two different worlds, separate realities. First world was the one without the telescope. It has not changed. Filled with dense mist it was impossible to see anything. It made me feel lost and unsafe. The second world, even though much darker, was making an impression of warm, delicate and vivid place. The contrast felt far sterner and the vision felt far clearer. I could see lights flickering steadily on the horizon. They formed a ring around the tower. For a brief moment it seemed the ring started to move towards the tower slowly and then it stopped. I had a better view now. I still couldn't make out what exactly was there but I felt a sudden urge to head out towards it. I was faced with two problems. I didn't know in what direction should I venture. There were endless possibilities. I was also separated from the lights by a black sea, impenetrable to human eyes. What is beneath it? No idea. It looked dangerous.

After several long minutes of looking around trying to find a clue that would help me consider my next move I remembered the existence of other items in the chest.

I picked up the compass. It seemed fairly new and unused much like the telescope but it did not seem to work. I tried to poke it from all sides and shake it a bit but to no avail. I sat around with it for a while and began to worry. Fear of the unknown started sinking in. It was getting colder and colder, wind was blowing harder and harder. Will I be okay?

Staring hopelessly at the compass I began thinking about my past. I realized how much time I've wasted living in the moment, not paying any attention to the future. Only now I envisaged my possible fates. I suddenly became a customer looking at shelves in a store, trying to make the right choice and willing to pay the price.

As my thoughts were unveiling one after another I felt a sense of purpose. In that exact moment, to my great surprise, the compass needle started to spin. It kept spinning and spinning and my palms began to sweat in anticipation. I waited quite some time but the needle wouldn't stop spinning. Hope has abandoned me again. It was then when my eyes met with the telescope. 'Wait a minute,' I thought as my mind was suddenly hit with an idea. I rolled over to my left and picked up the telescope. I looked through it at the compass… The needle stopped. It was now showing one place with all its certainty, staring forward like a hunting dog. I looked up.

It was pointing towards the brightest spot in the entire ring. I haven't noticed it before. How have I missed it? I need to go there. But how? A black sea was making for an unpleasant carpet, riddled with uncertainty and danger. I couldn't just step onto it. First I had to be sure it's safe.

So I stood there weighing my options. Or bemoaning the lack of them, come to think of it. Was there something I wasn't getting? Wait, what about the torch and the match? I almost ran towards the chest and picked up said items. There was only one match. I had only one chance.

I struck the match against my shoe and to my joy it lit itself up. I quickly put it to the torch lightning it up as well. Warm fire brought me some calm and filled me with renewed exhiliration. With one hand yielding the torch and the telescope in the other I approached the tower's edge. It was almost freezing now, I was afraid of being blown away by relentless winds.

It was now or never. I put the torch toward the black sea and to my happiness several paths appeared before me. Some of them looked broken and unsafe. Some of them looked dangerous and deceptive. There was one of them, though… It seemed to lead towards the brightest spot in the ring. Yes, that was the one.

There was no time to think anymore. I knew I had to take this path whatever the consequences. It felt right. So I took a deep breath and moved my foot outside the tower's safety… It worked! I put my second foot on the path and slowly made my way through darkness, towards light.

As I continued to walk slowly, winds seemed to have stopped and temperature was becoming ever warmer. I did it. I made the right decision at the right moment. It paid off. A personal victory. Just in time.  

______________

Previous entries:

1. Our Hearts Of Ruin. "The Hill"
2. Sleeping Children Are Still Flying. "The Glow"
3. And Stars, Ringed. "The Seeds"
4. To The Ends Of The World. "To Dream"

5. Farewell To The Former World. "The Escape"
6. Falling Short. "Fear"

Mikkelson's Band

"I've no idea. What should we do? Sir?" All eyes were turned to a towering man with a scar running across his face. His scar wasn't actually running across his face as it was mostly stationary. It only moved when the towering man produced facial expressions, like he did just now. And now again.

"Split up. Posen, you go north. Leez, you head south. Oph, check east. Mikkelson, head west. I'll stay here and finish my roasted chicken before those pesky rats claim it," the towering man said and threw a towel over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir! What should we do when we find him?" asked a male man named Mikkelson who was a blond Swede with yellow hair and loved folk music, sweets and expressionism.

"Bring him back, Mikkelson. And be careful. Browser can be dangerous. As dangerous as a volcano or a gun or an angry velociraptor," the towering man who had a towel thrown over his shoulder as he prepared to eat roasted chicken warned everyone who wasn't Mikkelson and he warned Mikkelson as well.

Mikkelson was a Swede. He was of considerable size as his diet was composed mainly of sugar. That's why they called him a Swede and because he was born in Sweden as well. He wasn't a good composer neither of music nor of diet. He was prone to mass food consumption and he was a highway in a sense that he had no limits. His daily calories intake was someone else's weekly calories intake and his outtake was even larger, without needlessly getting into specifics. Needless to say he was prone to clogging up the toilet and causing people to experience the experience of exasperation. He explained that he couldn't control his excrement production standards because the remote to his bowels had fallen behind a sofa. Remote was a great location to be in after Mikkelson had visited the toilet. Toilets absolutely hated Mikkelson. They were crying their porcelain tears and flooded their surroundings making all the tiles around them wet and angry and sad like a worn out umbrella.

Mikkelson had a voice as deep as a very deep well or a hole or Deep Purple. His voice used to echo wherever there was space and circumstances for such phenomenon to occur. Back in his day he was able to sing songs and let his calm voice spread over the room like jam on a slice of bread. He loved jam sandwiches and he loved singing. Back in his day he would perform at nights in bars and small local festivals with his band of equally blonde Swedes who had a penchant for exposing their naked chests and singing songs whilst playing on musical instruments. They were good folk and used to play decent Swedish folk and enjoyed their lives like a human baby would if its brain was developed enough to understand that it is being fed food for free and has its butt cleaned up for it.

Mikkelson's band was almost successful. They were once approached by a small corpulent man who was as tall as small women and turned out to be a record company executive. He was impressed with their performance at the Malmo Music Festival festival.

"I am very impressed with your performance, boys," he told them in Swedish because they were in Sweden, before telling them his name is Erik. "My name is Erik."

"Thanks, Erik," one of the band members, a drummer, replied whilst playing with drumsticks like a ninja with knives or a porn star with someone's anus.

"Seriously, boys, that was impressive. What was your band's name again?" he asked nonchalantly without chaloir.

"Jarl Jam."

"Hmm," Erik mused, "Swear I've heard it somewhere. Weren't you popular back in the day? Heh, heh," he attempted a joke but failed as nobody laughed. Not even his family, who admittedly weren't there at the time.

"We wanted to reflect our Scandinavian roots by incorporating such an important title to our culture as 'Jarl'. As for the second part, our lead singer Mikkelson really loves jam. He wouldn't have it any other way," the bass player explained while nodding his head towards Mikkelson who was making sandwiches with a jelly looking substance in the attic. "You have to reach compromise sometimes. Especially with Mikkelson."

"What was the name of the song that you played? Girls certainly loved it or maybe it was the naked chests. Still a good piece of music," Erik complimented while sitting down on a dark chair that had a long, tiresome life.

"It's called 'Wake Me Uppsala'. It's a song about loss and grief. Sven here," the drummer pointed at a napping blond Swede who fell asleep with a bowl of pudding on his lap and a flute next to his knee. "He realized he lost his wallet when he woke up after a very busy night in Uppsala and was overcome with sadness. When he told us what happened we immediately started writing a song and after we were done we went out looking for the wallet."

"Did you find it?"

Mikkelson's band was almost successful because they were about to sign a big contract with Erik's record company. They were about to make big money, huge piles of cash and hookers and a generous insurance package. They were already planning to spend their newly acquired wealth to help poor people like themselves – themselves. All was going well except for the bass player's diagnosis of leukemia but suddenly they split. They split in a split second as the conflict between the members escalated quicker than an escalator as the latter is rather slow. Mikkelson had a very violent argument with the drummer after which he saw no other option but to leave the group and travel with his parents to America.

"That's it. I've had enough. I'm leaving Jarl Jam and I'm going to travel with my parents to America," he said, as he was massaging his bruised knuckles still sore after the violent disagreement.

"Fine," said the drummer who was still limping a bit even though he wasn't walking right now. "I'm not going to miss you and your crap. We will find another lead singer and will send you postcards from Jarl Jam's world tour."

"You won't know my address," Mikkelson rightly observed.

"Write it here," the drummer pulled down his pants and displayed his bare backside to Mikkelson who was very hungry and had to hurry because he had a dentist appointment. He left without leaving an address on the drummer's naked butt.

Mikkelson hasn't pursued a career in show business ever since. Initially, he felt very upset about the band's collapse and even jam stopped tasting the same. He was sad and disappointed that he failed to fulfill his dream and bemoaned the amount of money he was never going to earn while doing something he loved. This state lasted over three weeks. After he arrived in Seattle he was well over it and began earning plenty of money in his father import-export company which he absolutely loved doing.

Mikkelson has always been an avid enthusiast of timber, hydropower, and iron ore and the fact that his father's company was importing precisely those goods from Sweden to United States made him very happy and reasonably wealthy and almost made him forget Jarl Jam. He can still be heard by his neighbors or burglars humming 'Wake Me Uppsala' in the shower.

As for the rest of the band, they were still looking for a new lead singer when the bass player died aged 20. Shortly after that the pudding loving band member was sent to jail for two years after beating a man half to death with a flute. The drummer put his pants back on and became a mechanic playing with wrenches like a ninja with knives but lost his right arm a year later. The dream of Jarl Jam died and was no longer alive.

__________________
Previous chapter:
Browser's Childhood

Browser's Childhood

"Who killed him?" asked a tall, wide man with a scar running across his face and a sense of authority booming in his voice. He spat out his cigar and stamped on it with his heavy boot.

"Think it was Browser, sir," replied a man of considerably smaller frame with no scars running across his face and a sense of inferiority resounding in his voice. He scratched his forehead and looked around to see what was around him.

Browser has always been the one when it came to people killed by him. Nobody else has ever killed people who were killed by Browser. It was a fact. A true fact and not an opinion. Browser was very proud of that achievement. He was as proud of that as he was proud of his achievement of winning a long jump competition during his high school days in Wapakoneta, Ohio.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I won a long jump competition during my high school days in Wapakoneta?" Browser would ask over a burning campfire in the camp. "I bet you want to know the secret… Well, I jumped the furthest. It was a sunny day and the sun was shining. I ran and I jumped. Oh, the glory. They gave me a statuette of a guy jumping long and far. I don't think it was made of gold 'cause the coating started to peel off after a month. Still, it was a proud day. My ma was proud and my da was proud, I think. He wasn't there at the time as he was away somewhere. The steel company he worked for as a delegate used to send him all over the country to places like Chicago, Albuquerque and Topeka where he used to work as a delegate for the steel company. He loved his work and bourbon. He loved his wife, my ma, and he was a massive Bengals fan. He'd go to games and…"

Every time Browser was telling the story of his long jump competition win or any other stories he used to tell, he steered the discussion into a tale about his father. He loved his father as much as he would love his own parents. His parents loved Browser as much as they would love their own child. It was a love at first sight as his parents loved Browser when they saw him for the first time. It was about the time when he was born, possibly in the moment of birth. His father was there to witness it, said Browser, even though Browser didn't remember it and only knew this because his mother told him that because she was there and was old enough of to store memories and understand certain events, unlike Browser at the time.

Browser was a good child. He was a strong-willed child with a strong will and he held off with drinking and smoking for fifteen years. His father was very proud as he knew what it took to resist temptation of drinking and smoking. He tried to stop drinking and smoking but only lasted two months. Browser had good grades and was a good child. He was a good child up to the point where he grew up and stopped being a child. But before that he was a good child who loved apple pie, girls and basketball but wasn't quite fond of algebra and wild animals like bears and raccoons that used to ransack his backyard leaving it a complete mess. Browser had to clean it up the next day to learn about responsibility and other similar qualities that no one respected.

"It will teach you responsibility and other similar qualities. Everyone should respect them," his father used to say, quoting articles by smart people who were writing smart articles in newspapers for everyone to read and learn and then use the newspapers along with tinder to start Sunday barbecues whenever people were having a Sunday barbecue. "Just ask your mother."

"What? Oh. Yes, yes of course. Your father is right. Listen to your father," Browser's mother used to say while dusting off dust off of antlers nailed to the wooden wall with nails. She was a woman who offered little to no insight, was tall and skinny, liked to watch soap operas and was very focused on her duties to her husband and to America. She was very focused on the activities she was performing, as her husband used to point out with a grin on his face whenever he was spending time drinking and smoking with his buddies at a pub.

"She's very focused on the activities she's performing" he would say to his buddies at a pub, "if you know what I mean." He would then take a sip of a drink and smoke a cigarette.

"I think I know what you mean," said one of his buddies who knew what he meant.

Browser grew up in a quiet neighborhood and had dark hair. He had dark, unnecessarily long hair that used to poke him in the eyes whenever he was running against the wind. He was running against the wind a lot because it was windy a lot where he lived and he was running a lot playing basketball with other kids, throwing football with his father, and practicing long jump. He was a hopeful child with brave dreams like winning a high school long jump competition to earn himself respect and a statuette of a man jumping long and far. He had a distinct jawline and dark hair and was of average physical frame. He had no tendencies to gaining weight and he didn't gain much weight. He was quite tall as his parents were also considerably tall and he eventually grew taller than tables and small people.

He loved almost all of the animals. He grew up listening to "The House of the Rising Sun" and playing with his trusty dog Bucket. He would throw a weary, old, trusty baseball and Bucket would chase it. They would do it all afternoon if only Bucket wasn't getting tired after an hour. Bucket was a medium-sized, brown dog who loved to lie on the grass covered by sunshine and to lick Browser's face, especially if it was smeared with peanut butter. Bucket loved peanut butter and so did Browser.

"Are you giving peanut butter to Bucket again, son?" father would ask. "We told you it's not good for him to eat so much peanut butter, son. Ask your mother."

"What? Oh. Yes, yes of course. Your father is right. Listen to your father," Browser's mother would say, offering little to no insight and instead focusing on the activities she was performing.

Even though his childhood was uneventful, events have happened to Browser. He saw a man puke during a circus performance and he had a girlfriend. He had a girlfriend who had a boyfriend – him. She was one year younger than him and was a brunette. They used to ride bikes together and eat ice cream and throw paper planes into a lake and have the same hair color. Browser was fifteen at the time and she was fourteen, as she was one year younger than him. She liked Browser and she slapped him once when he blew up a frog right into her face. She didn't like having frogs blown up in her face but Browser wasn't aware at the time. Browser was considered a decent boyfriend material and other girls used to ask his girlfriend lots of questions.

"So have you two kissed already?" one of the girls swarming Browser's girlfriend would ask.

"Yeah, at least a little smooch?" another one would ask promptly.

"Have you seen him without a shirt?"

"Tell us! What is he like alone with you?"

"Did you grab his butt?"

"Do you have any cigarettes?"

Browser had to break up with his girlfriend when he found out she loved bears and raccoons and didn't respect responsibility and other similar qualities.

Browser broke his shoulder once when he was biking on a bike. He lost control of his bike when his Bengals cap had fallen off his head and distracted him long enough for his deceptive bike to swerve wildly and throw him onto the road like a person allergic to nuts spitting out a nut. Browser was angry that even though he was wearing a protective helmet it didn't prevent him from breaking his shoulder. He was angry because he couldn't play basketball and scratch his chin. The last thing he remembered before passing out was Bucket licking peanut butter off of his face. His parents were worried about Browser and they found him the best doctor on the shift in the local hospital. The local hospital was small but had medicine and doctors and it was enough to put Browser's shoulder back together like a chair leg. The place of his shoulder break is still itching Browser even today. When it does he scratches it and he's alright.

Not much else happened to Browser during his childhood. His childhood was uneventful and he completed his education without any problems. There were no problems except for the algebra teacher who really loved algebra and didn't like Browser who didn't like algebra and didn't like his algebra teacher. They once argued after class and Browser was ordered to stay after class so they could argue some more. The teacher won because he was older and had authority and authority was one of the qualities similar to responsibility that Browser was taught to respect and also because the algebra teacher was better at algebra and arguments. The algebra teacher later complained to Browser's parents that their son doesn't respect algebra and authority.

"I'm really sorry to say that your son doesn't respect algebra and authority," he would complain to Browser's parents. "I can see you're good folk. It doesn't add up. I'm really struggling to rationalize this complex situation. It's happened a number of times. We need to get to the root of this problem."

"We sure do. We don't know what may have caused it. Our son is a good son with a good heart and he wouldn't cause problems without a reason," Browser's father would reason.

"Well, his behavior is creating a division among his classmates. He needs to change it."

"We will look at this problem. I promise you that. Once we will go back home we will talk to our son."

"Does your wife agree to look at this issue as well?"

"What? Oh. Yes, yes of course. My husband is right. Listen to my husband," Browser's mother offered.

Browser's parents talked to their son once they went back home. They talked about the last Bengals game, the taste of steak, the difficult times for American economy and his behavior during algebra classes. They agreed on most of the issues and Browser was excused to play with Bucket. It all turned out very well because the algebra teacher became seriously ill and Browser found a common language with the substitute algebra teacher.

That's how Browser's childhood went. It was pretty uneventful, all things considered. Bucket died aged eleven which was a good thing because he was suffering a lot from hip dysplasia and Browser finally won the high school long jump competition and a statuette of a man jumping long and far during his last year at high school before applying to Ohio University. 

To be continued

NOIR. 6. Falling Short

This is a series concering the Blue Sky Black Death's music album NOIR.
It ties in with the happiest moments of my life as it was there to witness them.
I would like to help you see the images I see whenever I hear the songs.
Some of them feel very real, some of them are more abstract.

"FEAR"

If I fall short

If I don’t make the grade
If your expectations aren’t met in me today

You always have it in the back of your mind. Somewhere there, a constant notion lurks behind your thoughts. You feel a presence, a layer of mist hovering right below your feet. It’s dense and almost palpable as it hampers your movements, slows you down. Taking steps forward requires more effort.

It fills you with doubt and anxiety. You accuse it of steadily taking away small bits of your essence and quietly chewing off parts of your character with its tiny sharp teeth, preventing you from reaching your full potential. You think you’re unable to operate at full capacity, like you're missing a vital cog in the machine. It seems you feel like you can’t be yourself in a true sense. In your eyes it's a remarkably high and unforgiving hurdle you just can't jump over. Not yet...

Every day you wish you it was gone. You pray you could get rid of it once and for all, throw it in a pit of fire and watch it turn into ashes and be swept away by gale winds. But it’s always there when you lie down to sleep at night and it’s there to greet you in the morning. It keeps coming back like a loyal dog and makes sure you remember it with its distant barking echoing through the chambers of your mind. It's a photograph you can't avoid looking at. You can’t escape it. You can see it when you look in the mirror. It’s a part of you.

You can blame it for your shortcomings all you want. But the truth is you need it. You need it to remind you what’s at stakes. It’s there to help you realize what is right and what is wrong. It clears the fog enshrouding your inner path. It’s a necessary gavel that turns you into a better judge. It’s one of the parts of an engine that drives you forward and steers you away from danger. It can motivate you far better than the most moving of speeches. It works better because it’s yours, because it’s personal. It knows you like you know yourself.

And you should learn how to know it too. Welcome it. Let it earn your trust. Instead of treating it like an intruder let it join in with you  on your journey and help create a power inside of you, a great force you can call on to in order to reach your true becoming. Focus. Embrace it. Use it.

Until then take solace in the comforting presence of its dear relative. A great friend who has always been there for you in time of need. A loyal companion whom you cherish with enthusiasm and gratitude. After all, as dire as your circumstances can be, it helps you get through everything. It's at the end of the tunnel, call it a glimmer of...

There’s always tomorrow, or tomorrow night

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Previous entries:

1. Our Hearts Of Ruin. "The Hill"
2. Sleeping Children Are Still Flying. "The Glow"
3. And Stars, Ringed. "The Seeds"
4. To The Ends Of The World. "To Dream"
5. Farewell To The Former World. "The Escape"

NOIR. 5. Farewell To The Former World

This is a series concering the Blue Sky Black Death's music album NOIR.
It ties in with the happiest moments of my life as it was there to witness them.
I would like to help you see the images I see whenever I hear the songs.
Some of them feel very real, some of them are more abstract.

"The Escape"

He knew he didn’t have much time left. He knew he had to hurry. Everything and everyone around him have already said their goodbyes and farewells and those who haven’t were no longer to be granted such an opportunity. He looked up in awe and if he hadn’t had to worry about his life being in mortal danger he would have certainly taken the time to marvel at the sheer beauty of the brutal events occurring in every direction possible. There was something extraordinary about it; an overwhelming feeling of superiority and inevitability. Every attempt, even a thought of an attempt of escaping or avoiding what was to come seemed doomed from the beginning and effortlessly created a staggering impression of futility.

There was a singing poetry to all this, ringing hollowly across acres of space, its dynamic sounds filled with immense vivacity were throwing themselves around while following their chaotic trajectories ultimately echoing throughout the atmosphere. A relentless cacophony of sounds was heard everywhere and nowhere. It was driving people of weaker minds mad to the point where they couldn’t tell what was real and what was just a figment of imagination. Reality eluded them with a devilish grin on its face. Would they have ever recovered from such a condemned state? If only there was time to find out…

As he continued to march briskly having found a sudden spring in his step he noticed something that pierced right through his mind. A gaping chasm has opened in the middle of the soon to be fallen city giving birth to a menacing vortex that quickly began to lay waste to its immediate surroundings. It seemed to devour everything within its grasp. Objects formerly grounded and bound by laws of gravity unwillingly started to defy their former masters. As he stood there stupefied he could have sworn he felt layers of unseen energy gathering around him, following the commands of the gigantic force that was consuming everything. He realized if there was ever a good moment to run, it was now.

He was sprinting past countless buildings all condensed into a set of continuous and undistinguishable grey walls. He felt dizzy and was gasping for breath but he knew he couldn’t stop. Everything was blurred. Every line, every corner, every shape or figure. Nothing seemed to be real anymore. It all looked as if it was warping from one dimension to another, lost and undecided where or whether to anchor or not. He could feel the enormous struggle his dying world had to endure. For how much longer will it hold on, clinging desperately to its last remnants of balance…? What will happen when it loses its ever weakening grip? Will everything just cease to exist or will it prevail in some kind of twisted and distorted basin of scorched earth and slow, agonizing death?

As he reached the end of the line of devastated buildings and structures he turned around to take a final look at his ravaged city he not long ago called his home. It was both a tremendous and terrifying sight. Beacons of light have appeared out of nowhere, consuming the burning heart of the city with no remorse. A massive cloud of smoke and anguish hovered over everything like a predator ready to pounce on its victim, sometimes spewing lightning and raining what seemed to be boiling lava… He knew if he was to survive all this there would be nothing for him back here. Nothing to come back to…

As he was about to disappear into the forest, he was struck by a white flash and an explosion that sent him flying through the bushes. Slowly picking himself up he had no idea what caused it. He found himself engulfed in a bright and flickering mist and noticed everything around him became silent and tranquil. An overwhelming sense of lightness and emptiness took control over his mind. He began to crawl desperately through mud and dirt, slowly beginning to feel an indescribable sense of calm and peace instead of dread and despair. It was as if his body was losing its density, particles he was made of bidding farewell to each other and going their separate ways. He realized he was about to gradually fade out and evaporate from the face of the earth. In his final moments he looked at his hands and right through them he could see tormented ground on the verge of falling apart… Seconds later everything ceased to be and he saw nothing and felt nothing… 


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Previous entries:

1. Our Hearts Of Ruin. "The Hill"

2. Sleeping Children Are Still Flying. "The Glow"

3. And Stars, Ringed. "The Seeds"

4. To The Ends Of The World. "To Dream"

NOIR. 4. To The Ends Of The Earth

This is a series concering the Blue Sky Black Death's music album NOIR.
It ties in with the happiest moments of my life as it was there to witness them.
I would like to help you see the images I see whenever I hear the songs.
Some of them feel very real, some of them are more abstract.

"To Dream"

To dream is to change my whereabouts. To use my mind is to create a safe passage over an endless chasm. To close my eyes is to open the gates to another world. To enshroud my surroundings in darkness is to light up another room.

It is to cross a bridge. It is to enter a portal. It is to walk through a door.

It only takes a simple step. A step forward.

To fully appreciate my own world I have to create different ones in my mind. One of the many uses of imagination is to learn and experience things we would never be able to find here. It enhances us in a way through mere acts of witnessing or participation. It helps us know more. It lets us understand many things clearer. Imagination, knowledge, experience and understanding are the four primary values I hold especially dear. Their absence would be devastating. Imagining alternate realities and visiting them is an experience in itself which grants me knowledge unattainable to others—at least my version of it—and allows me to understand what I’m faced with during the time spent in a fully conscious state. So I create worlds and I explore them.

I do it in my dreams.

They are not dreams by dictionary definitions. But how else would I call the state I’m in during blissful moments of drifting away? How would I call all the places, people and events I witness after closing my eyes and letting go of reality while still retaining a hint of consciousness? I’m well aware they aren’t *real* yet I lose myself in them wholly and willingly. How would you call them?

I’ve been to many places. I’ve met many people. I’ve seen many things take place. Perhaps more than I did in the so-called real life. Dreaming doesn’t cost a dime. I don’t have to move anywhere. I don’t have to book a ticket in advance only to have to reschedule last minute because my flight has been canceled. I can leap between places far removed from each other in an instant. I can jump between time and see and analyze situations from changing perspectives. I can meet people or... beings my mind created and breathed life into. I can witness abstract and magical events that I couldn't even begin to explain to someone who wasn't there by my side. I can experience and learn and understand. I can evolve.

I can create entire civilizations and mix and match them with various distinctive realities. I don’t have to write a book or make a movie to see things at their face value. I don't have to have words staring at me suggestively or have images thrown at my face relentlessly. I just have to be there and pay close attention. I just have to embrace the nature of dreaming and imagining and revel in it. I have to— I want to—take from it as much as I have given it. And I have given it everything I had. I propelled it and helped it go on its own way and in return it showed me what lies beyond my sight. It's extremely rare to strike a perfect balance. Yet here it is. I'm grateful.

I can do anything. I can be anyone, anywhere. I’m free to go and do as I please. It feels liberating. It feels right. It’s worth taking the step.

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Previous entries:
1. Our Hearts Of Ruin. "The Hill"
2. Sleeping Children Are Still Flying. "The Glow"
3. And Stars, Ringed. "The Seeds"

NOIR. 3. And Stars, Ringed

This is a series concering the Blue Sky Black Death's music album NOIR.
It ties in with the happiest moments of my life as it was there to witness them.
I would like to help you see the images I see whenever I hear the songs.
Some of them feel very real, some of them are more abstract.

"The Seeds"

A slow breeze was constantly finding its way into my relaxed nostrils. It patted my skin gently with generosity and grace. It was really nice of it, I thought, and I found myself quietly thanking it for such an attention and care. Not to mention it was keeping me alive as well. What have we ever done to deserve this selfless service? Probably nothing. Thanks anyway.

Having lain on the comfortable bed of grass for hours I could’ve sworn it was my favorite activity in the entire known universe. ‘Maybe because it doesn’t require any activity?’ I wondered while I continued to lie on my back, facing and staring into the endless ceiling of matter and antimatter above me. ‘And what about the unknown universe?’ my mind wasn’t to rest easily. ‘Perhaps there's a better activity waiting for me somewhere out there? Something better than lying on the grass? Something that hasn’t even been created yet in our planet's timeline or something that has seen its grand birth and glorious death millennia ago but people of this humble planet may learn of it only long after my death? I guess we couldn’t know,’ I pointed out to myself feeling proud of all the reasoning and logic on display. I’d have patted myself on the back if that part of my body wasn’t so firmly attached to the ground. ‘And it would have been useless to me anyway since I’d be dead already. Oh well.’ It was probably as good a moment as any to drop this deep and contemplative topic.

A small green bird flew not far away from my unsuspecting face. It seemed like a smudge painted lazily on sky’s canvass by an inspired artist. It was promptly followed by a gliding sea of dandelion seeds that felt startled by the sudden motion and decided to fly for their lives in a last ditch attempt to escape, a desperate act of survival. Little did they know, their destination was the exact opposite of living. I could have sworn I’ve heard their helpless cries ring out in funny, cartoon like, high pitched voices. ‘Aaaaaaaa!’ they yelled, while plummeting down to the ground and landing softly next to my hand. ‘Bet they’re pretty pissed off at the dandelion seed guy who told them to get the hell out of there,’ I thought to myself, as usual applying character feats to elements of nature and inanimate objects. It never really made any sense whatsoever. But making sense was rarely the sole purpose. It was the act of entertaining a hypothetical and abstract situation that always gave me a little thrill. ‘”General Taraxacum! You’ve lead us to our deaths, you bastard! The High Council will hear of this when they find our rotting corpses! Everyone knows you were appointed our military leader because your father was the famous and fearless Dan The Lion! Guess what! You’re nothing like him! You will die here with us, your name covered in eternal shame,”’ I suddenly felt engaged in the whole artificial affair, as lines of made up dialogue entered my silly head. I then imagined a violent scrap ensuing with dandelion seeds pushing each other into grass blades and other dandelion seeds breaking up the fight.

As I turned my head away from the suffering dandelion seeds I immediately forgot all about them. They are forever lost to memory. Nobody will cry for them. They'll get stamped on if they're lucky. Nobody will mourn them. Nobody except for their wives and children who stayed in other dandelion seed huts built on top of stalks across this green city. I'd absolutely hate to be the one to break the news to them.

‘If I was in a movie, a smart overhead camera shot would be circling into my direction right now, with its steady angle zooming in slowly but surely,’ I thought to myself, changing the subject. ‘It would focus on either the stark contrast between me and my surroundings or the seamless blending of said two. Depends on the script and scenography. It would then masterfully turn around and pan out up to the sky,’ I continued to contemplate. ‘As if there was a realization that I’m just a tiny force in the face of something much more vast and powerful,’ I theorized. ‘That’s a sweet bit of movie making right there. It tells you a great deal of things without saying a single word. Suggestive. I like it,’ I proclaimed, to the happiness of movie directors all across the world, I’m sure.

And that’s the way in which another entire afternoon flew by. Like a green bird. It seemed like a smudge painted lazily on time’s canvass by an inspired artist.


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Other entries in the series

NOIR. 2. Sleeping Children Are Still Flying

This is a series concering the Blue Sky Black Death's music album NOIR.
It ties in with the happiest moments of my life as it was there to witness them.
I would like to help you see the images I see whenever I hear the songs.
Some of them feel very real, some of them are more abstract.

 "The Glow"

‘Where are we?’ asked Sarah amidst confusion. ‘What is this place?’

‘It looks safe. At least for now.’ replied Katherine with a false note of certainty in her voice. 

‘How can you tell? What does safe even mean anymore?’ Sarah questioned both her friend and herself not expecting neither a true nor a satisfying answer.

Both women began to look around, searching for clues in regards to their current location. Their messy hair, dirt covered faces and ragged clothes gave away a glimpse of their situation: they haven’t been home for quite some time. Moreover, they haven’t seen civilization in weeks. They’ve been out of touch with reality and their lives. They’ve had no rest. Their disheveled looks were telling a distressing story of desperate search for answers and a way back. 

‘I don’t know what to think anymore,’ said Sarah with a sense of resignation in her voice. ‘When will this end? What is the point? I don’t know if I can carry on for much longer.’

‘We have to hold on. We can’t give up. Do you want to just lie down and die?’ countered Katherine, the visibly stronger one of the two.

‘No… but we’ve been jumping between places and… realities… for too long.’ replied Sarah.

‘How long is too long? You speak like this has already happened to someone and there’s a point of reference out there somewhere. We're here now so we have to try and cope somehow.’ said Katherine, trying to reason with frightened Sarah. After the few weeks they’ve spent together she knew it was the best way to make Sarah calm down, if only for a moment.

‘I’m just saying… What if it never stops? Do we live off of scraps we can find and face uncertain future every time we jump?’ Sarah further voiced her concerns. 

‘For now we have to. I know it’s not easy. Do you think it’s easy for me? I’m telling myself things I never would have believed a couple of weeks ago. And I believe there is an end to this. Be patient. Let’s not lose our minds just yet.’ said Katherine as she tried to sound as convincing as she could, both for her and Sarah's sake.

The night was fast approaching. Chilly air surrounded the women, suddenly bringing even more doubt to their worried and tired minds. The sky began to fill itself with ever darkening blue color, quickly displaying its true nature: blackness. A few stars here and there were breaking the perfect black harmony of the sky. They seemed to be disinterested and brought no solace to the weary eyes of the stranded women.

‘We have to find shelter. Let’s head out to this grove.’ Katherine proposed after she noticed a set of strange white trees in the nearby valley. It was the only distinguishable place among the endless sea of land. In normal circumstances she would have stayed far away from such mysterious and eerie looking place but now she thought they need any cover they can get. After all, these weren’t ordinary circumstances.

‘What if we’re being punished?’ asked Sarah on the way to the grove, slowly getting more and more anxious. 

‘Punished for what?’ replied Katherine ‘I don’t think we deserve any more punishment than anyone else does.’

‘What if it happens to everyone? What if at some point we all have to go through this hell? Our own personal hell?’ Sarah was not one to drop the topic quickly.

‘I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure,’ said Katherine, carefully trying to find the right words. ‘We’re all capable of terrible things. Do you believe if we somehow avoid consequences of our actions the universe will eventually make us catch up with what we’ve done and face judgment?’ asked Katherine firmly. Sarah did not reply. She decided to think about it in silence. It's what they both did most of the time during their exile. Think. 

As they reached and entered the grove they felt a bit safer even though there was no particular reason to do so. Safer than ever before in the past few weeks, as they’ve both acknowledged to each other without saying any words. They headed into the center of the grove, as if some unseen force was pushing them there. The women stayed close to one another, treading slowly and carefully. They were feeling an immense fear of being left alone; stranded. For weeks they had to rely only on themselves. If they lost that, they thought, it's hard to imagine what would have happened. Certainly nothing good. As they proceeded ever deeper into the grove, passing through white trees they’ve never seen before, they noticed something in front of them. Sarah grabbed Katherine’s hand and they slowly made their way to the center of the grove. 

They arrived at a pool of pristine water, above which there was a tremendous glow which casted bright light upon both women and everything around them, resonating with certain restrained warmth and... kindness? In the middle of the oval shaped glow Sarah and Katherine noticed a slight shade of darkness, a dim patch, as if it was a padlock keeping the unseen door firmly sealed.

‘I’ve never seen anything like this,’ said Sarah in awe. ‘I think it’s… beautiful.’

‘It is… I have no idea what it is. But it feels different to anything we’ve seen so far.’ admitted Katherine, while examining the glow carefully.

‘It emanates warmth and…’ Sarah gathered her thoughts. ‘In a way it feels like something I recognize. Something from before our “journey”.’

‘All I know is I want to be here, I want to stay close to it. I feel safe here.’ said Katherine, this time without any hints of uncertainty in her voice. Women sat on the inviting grass and wondered what is so special and familiar about this eerie phenomenon in front of them.

‘You asked me earlier if I think we all have to go through our own personal hell at some point,’ said Katherine to now calm and collected Sarah. ‘Maybe. But this is not hell. It feels more like a purgatory.’

‘I think so too. We’ve been through a lot and it made me understand some things about myself,’ replied Sarah with unfamiliar to Katherine certainty in her voice. ‘I know I’ve done bad things in my life. I know I’m guilty of lies and neglect and deception. I hurt people who I care about and who care about me.’ 

‘There’s plenty of things I’m not proud of either,’ agreed Katherine. ‘If this has been a way of making me recognize my shortcomings I can’t argue with that,’ she continued: ‘We barely slept, barely ate, and barely kept our minds straight. But here we are. In front of this… shining light. Whatever it is.’ The amazement on her face whenever she looked upon the hovering beam of light was evident. 

‘I know what you are saying. And I don’t think we would have made it here if we haven’t had each other. I know I was the weaker one of us two and you kept me going. Thank you, Katherine.’ said Sarah, with all sincerity in her voice and look.

‘Don’t thank me. I needed you here as much as you needed me. I wish there was a way for us to fix our mistakes in our past lives. To do what’s right by people we love. No excuses.’ replied Katherine.

‘I fear it’s too late. I fear we wasted our lives and we deserve nothing.’ said Sarah with tone of regret in her voice.

‘Oh how I wish…’ Katherine started to say but was interrupted by something entirely unexpected.

Suddenly the glow became stronger and brighter. The darkness has unexplainably abandoned it without a flicker of emotion. No anger or disappointment. It was more of a relief as if it was saying ‘finally’. Sarah and Katherine had no idea what it meant and they observed the captivating event with uncertainty and confusion. The glow slowly began to emanate a humming noise, gently pulsating and taking its time to revel in its own harmonious arrangement. Women looked at each other and stepped closer with both hope and curiosity overtaking their minds. 

And then it struck them. They were presented with a set of distorted images inside the glow. The images of… their lives. The people they loved and cared about. Katherine saw her mother and Sarah saw her husband and children. As the glow grew larger and larger, expanding way above the grove of white trees they suddenly understood it all. They knew what they had to do. Lessons were learned. A second chance… For the last time they looked at each other and nodded to one another in recognition of their friendship and connection, with glimpses of optimism and hope in their eyes. Without hesitation they stepped through the glow...

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Other entries in the series

NOIR. 1. Our Hearts Of Ruin

This is a series concering the Blue Sky Black Death's music album NOIR.
It ties in with the happiest moments of my life as it was there to witness them.
I would like to help you see the images I see whenever I hear the songs.
Some of them feel very real, some of them are more abstract.

"The Hill"

They are walking slowly, hand in hand, their heads facing upward, on a hidden footpath that leads all the way to a gently lit hill. It's a captivating sight as the hill seems to be willfully overlooking everything there is with a tremendous sense of understanding and patience. Chilly grass that accepts the pair's footsteps on the path is bent down slightly, resting its blades among the vast sea of green as if it was a one great pillow. How long has it been since the last time someone treaded on the forgotten path? The hill is awaiting their arrival eagerly, having spent most of its life in perfect solitude. It seems to be inviting the pair, whose delicate steps now barely touch the enshrouded in gentle mist ground as they edge ever closer and closer to their desired destination. The distinguished night around them creates an impression of resting its mind, just for a bit, for a couple of seconds. Tiny yet significant seconds, droplets of time, falling down and forming lakes that surround the hill from all sides, connected both above and below the silent soil.

As soon as they enter the mysterious clearing atop of the peaceful hill, their surroundings start spinning suddenly yet seamlessly, making them look in awe at the dance of figures and shapes and colors. Trees joined in a grove have formed a circle around the clearing back in the times no one has any memories of anymore. Enormous trees with benevolent faces bow down and examine the pair keenly with hidden curiosity and silent kindness. Their gorgeous branches seem to be extending a warm welcome to the revered guests, at the same time expressing their joy caused by the unknown pair’s unexpected arrival. Or perhaps they were being expected? Marvelous leaves have sprung to life on the branches and began presenting their exquisite look of thousands of little mirrors with thousands of petite smiles reflected in each one of them.

Gentle summer breeze now fills the spaces between the pair and their welcoming hosts. Its silent whispers cannot be heard yet there is no denying their calming presence. The mellow air they breathe in has the taste of something grand yet something humble and modest and reserved exclusively for those two people in that exact place in their lives. A faint light shines shyly yet firmly upon the quiet clearing, leaving no room for unwanted shadows or doubt. It shows them what they need to see. It shows them who they need to see.

The moment they look up to the sky, facing the same direction, staring and observing the same space in time, the same place in the unknown universe makes them realize everything around them has slowed down to a crawl. They feel they opened a wonderful chamber of time beside time itself and they can carry it along with them wherever they desire. It’s their minuscule pocket of space they share where they can find each other whenever they want to. They become encompassed by tranquility and peace of mind as they feel an unbreakable connection, a profound bond.

They close their enamored eyes and open them again and look closely at each other. They can see delicate reflections of enchanting stars that circle slowly above them on the dark blue sea of a night sky. Their luminous faces are glowing with happiness and joy, mutual understanding and unmistakable sense of unity. Simple touch shared by their carefree hands becomes a subtle entity, standing both beside and inside of them. Simple touch they share makes them absorb the feeling they both share and the people they both are. They KNOW each other. They ARE each other.

They wish the beautiful night would never end. It won’t. It will live forever in their joined minds and it will calmly keep them and their hopeful worlds together in a caring embrace. They will never forget the hill and the hill will never forget them.

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Other entries in the series