The Fallen One

There he was again, my old man. Sitting there, cigarette in hand, cross legged on the sofa like the alpha male he was. As always, he had a slight smile etched onto his face as he puffed out the nauseously addictive smoke from his mouth, staring into nothingness, lost in thought. Watching him, just looking at his eyes, I could feel the warmth radiate and fill my void heart and I smiled or at least I thought I did.

Suddenly, the world around me collapsed as light seeped in through dewy eyes. It was a dream. I had finally hit reality. And yet, in that moment of realization, I smiled, for I knew that He was watching over me, shielding me….

Outside, the clouds aided by their heavenly chariot, the tempest, had laid siege to the fortress of the Sun. Leaving the two warring factions to their battle, I went to get dressed.

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Four walls, four windows, a figure, chalk in hand, scribbling something onto a blackboard; a classroom. Masses sitting all around me, each immersed in his own world. And yet, among the legions who sit, one overshadows all. It’s her again. A Goddess from Olympus descended, an angel with an aura divine, she eclipses all others like a swan amongst crows. I look at her, my sense dissipate, my heart skips a beat, time freezes as I lose myself in her sublime eyes. All I wish for now is to spend my life in the shadow of her, the beautiful cascade. All I wish for now is to wake up every day not the Sun, but to her angelic smile. All I wish for now is to look into her eyes and lose myself in worlds where no mortal has set dared set foot. Suddenly, it all comes back to me. I hit reality again, this time, with a sense of déjà vu. My mind takes control. I look away. “How can anyone have this effect on me?” I ask myself full of contempt. “It’s impossible!”

And yet, Fate, so full of ironies and plot twists, makes an equivocator out of me and there I sit, waiting outside class, to catch a glimpse of her. I look up towards the skies. The clouds have won. Their victory is absolute. And yet through the slightest glimpse I their grey armor, I see him, sitting, cigarette in hand smiling to himself and thinking, “Alas! What has become of my dauntless son! How he has fallen!” A storm is approaching, whether outside or in my depths, I cannot quite comprehend.

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