The sun was piercing through the morning mist, the world awaking. Little birds were singing, insects looking for the day’s first meal. A little butterfly was coming straight towards him. It was surrounded by a strange glow. Magic.
It flew up in front of his face and stopped in mid air. Hovered for a while. He rubbed his eyes, opened them again.
It had the the face and body of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Her naked body shone of sensuality and lust. She stared at him with intense, big eyes.
-What… What are you? He stuttered.
-I was about to ask you the same thing, she answered, smiling a curious little smile. -What are you doing here?
He didn’t know what to say. What was he doing there? What happened last night? He didn’t remember much, but it sure had been fun. He looked around. He was in some overgrown garden. He couldn’t tell where.
-I… I guess I’m lost, he said.
-You look lost, she chuckled. Her words sunk into his hung over nerves, like she was telling him a deep truth about his life.
The goliphant suddenly stopped. What’s wrong you stupid animal, the driver said. He whipped it hard on its back. Keep moving!
It moved a couple of steps more, and stopped again. A big trunk was lying blocking the road. What the… The driver silenced. A man came out from the bushes, another out from the leaves of the tree.
Ronad got on his feet, got his sword up from the ground. He stumbled a bit, took another zip of the strong liquor he had in his flask. Leave dis to mee… He mumbled, and went half running down the hill.
The driver lifted his hands. Please! Please don’t…. (more)
Deep inside, he was, and he knew he was. Milliards of cells communicating with each other, innumerable connections close to infinity, existing beyond what they were capable of understanding themselves.
He punched big spikes into the ground. Big, strong iron spikes, deep into the soil, so the ground would stay put. He knew it would peel off, someday, if he didn’t. It would peel off for good, leaving us all on a hot rock to die.
He knew if he didn’t do it, no one would. He didn’t like it. He didn’t want to do it. He had to.
One day two men came by.
-Why do you punch spikes into the ground? they asked.
-To keep the surface from peeling off, he had answered.