Isabella and the Pot of Basil ~ Alexander John White
She watched them move through the alleyway below and wondered how long it would take them.
Behind her, looming large in her mind, the heart murmured to itself in its crystalline cage.
Endocrine wished it didn’t have to be so difficult: matters of principle always seem so simple in the beginning, but they never take into account the complex chains of events formed by the intersection of diverse belief systems.
She turned to watch the heart for a while, trying not to let its murmurs interfere with her soul pattern.
She heard them on the echoing stairwell; their heavy boots thumping and armour rattling; and realised that she did not have much more time to decide.
Endocrine wondered why difficult decisions are always left ‘til the last minute; as if by applying that added pressure the best result would be ensured.
She lifted the cage and peered in at the heart, marvelling at its intricate structure, the whirring mechanisms and delicate workmanship.
The wind was already rushing past her face by the time they imploded the door.
Endocrine clutched the heart to her chest, feeling its tempo increase in direct proportion to the pulse that throbbed in her ears.
She turned in the air so that she was looking directly up at the thin blade of studded black sky that sliced the sheer faces of the buildings bracketing the alleyway.
She wondered about those stars: all that heat and energy expended - by what principle would their light be extinguished?
Behind her, looming large in her mind, the heart murmured to itself in its crystalline cage.
Endocrine wished it didn’t have to be so difficult: matters of principle always seem so simple in the beginning, but they never take into account the complex chains of events formed by the intersection of diverse belief systems.
She turned to watch the heart for a while, trying not to let its murmurs interfere with her soul pattern.
She heard them on the echoing stairwell; their heavy boots thumping and armour rattling; and realised that she did not have much more time to decide.
Endocrine wondered why difficult decisions are always left ‘til the last minute; as if by applying that added pressure the best result would be ensured.
She lifted the cage and peered in at the heart, marvelling at its intricate structure, the whirring mechanisms and delicate workmanship.
The wind was already rushing past her face by the time they imploded the door.
Endocrine clutched the heart to her chest, feeling its tempo increase in direct proportion to the pulse that throbbed in her ears.
She turned in the air so that she was looking directly up at the thin blade of studded black sky that sliced the sheer faces of the buildings bracketing the alleyway.
She wondered about those stars: all that heat and energy expended - by what principle would their light be extinguished?
6 comments:
Yes,Principles.Seem simple but it's more complex.I agree..
It's not easy especially when you woke from a weird dream again..
I like the last sentence,the wonder about the stars.
But do they really have prnciples?
xx
I love the idea of a heart murmuring to itself in a cage. Great imagery there. :)
How contrary the imposition of artificial purpose (principles) upon the way (principles) of nature, as if by defining, changing the eternal.
Knew her brother Basil Metabolism.
I swear theis is my word varification: likewtf, Like … what the fuck!!!
I too, often wonder why I wait til the last minute. I know I've a choice to make. But the more important it is, the longer I wait. I can not explain this to myself.
Candie: I'm reasonably sure that the stars have no need for principles; but humans are such an interfering species...
Mariah: I imagined this as some sort of clockwork or steampunk heart ;]
Dood: the ghosts in lexicon are watching
Subtorp77: procrastination may be the way to go... I'll let you know for sure later.
Nice imagery!
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