seeking_brilliance

?Stories by the Fire?-- a short story mega-thread

77 posts in this topic

Share your favorite short stories here. Fill this vessel with wonder. (Make sure to credit the author if it is not yours, or link to website. )

(@SirVladimir

@JosephKnecht

Plus anyone else who writes or have been affected by a short story and would like to share) 

This is a judgement free thread. Anything you post here is safe. Nothing is wrong. 

Nothing is true, everything is permitted. - A. C. 

All critiques should be constructive and only at the request of the author. I openly accept any for mine. Just don't be crude. 

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Edited by seeking_brilliance

This whole time, brilliance sought me.

@starsofclay on Instagram for my metaphysical art!

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(Please look at picture before reading. This was a writing exercise where the story is inspired by the picture.)


What Lies Beyond

On my twelfth birthday, papa took me to the Window of Light.  It was a huge squared opening at the end of our dwelling's cavern, and all of us Po'pi must go and peer into the light before starting work in the fields. So we carried our small canoe to the edge of the grassy meadow, and launched it into the dark lake separating the land from the gigantic window at the end of the cavern.

     It was early morning and a golden glow had just begun to flood the squared stone walls; and as we jumped into the canoe, a young doe which had been drinking from the cool water raised her head in alert and then pranced away--- back toward home as we rowed our way to the edge of our world. The light sparkled in the dark ripples the canoe made during its slow passage;  and had a particular warmth to it that reminded me of fire, but didn't burn.

     The closer we got, the window grew ever larger. We were but ants in the massive golden frame as our canoe landed against a rocky shore on the other side. Papa tied the canoe to an old weathered post; and directed me toward a steep set of winding stairs which ascended the cliffside, etched out of the  cragged boulders. He said I must go alone, and that he would be here for me when I returned. With a deep breath and a comforting squeeze on my shoulder from a loving father, I climbed the stairs toward the great window until it encompassed all of my view and I could see no else, save the winding path of steps leading ever closer.

     My heart was pounding as I reached the summit, and all tiredness in my legs dissolved in the full blast of the warm, golden light. I don't know how long I stood there, as time seemed to slip away and became a distant memory. I just looked and looked, not really sure what I was looking for; yet I looked on, enthralled by the hypnotic glow of the great Window.

     As I peered deeper, it seemed as if an image was forming. Slowly, it materialized, until I could clearly see a young boy similar to my age, and he was nearly as tall as the massive golden frame. He was in some sort of room and was hunched over, holding a black rectangular box in his hands.

     "Is this thing working?" I heard him say. His voice was strange, like coming through a sheet of water in the midst of an echoing cave-- the voice of God as the elders typically described, although I never understood where they had heard it until now.  "Come on, I just turned this thing on… MOM!"

     "Hello?" I called out, though in a bout of bravery or fear, I can never tell you.

     "Oh, there it goes," the Boy said, "took you long enough. Can we start playing yet?"

      "What?" I called out, not understanding his meaning. The Boy's thumb flicked a small grayish pike extending from the  box in his hands, and I decided to walk left along the screen, perhaps to get a better view of his surroundings. Heaven was a strange place, with many unrecognizable things- though I could clearly see what was meant to be a bed, a place to hang his clothes, and a wooden door which closed off what must have been a bedroom. I was looking into God's bedroom. Amazing.

     "I said I want to play now," the Boy replied in a supreme whine, and I felt the sudden urge to run along the screen in the other direction, jumping and skipping and kicking rocks. Odd behavior sure, but we all do strange things when nervous. The Boy rolled his eyes-- "If this doesn't load in five seconds I'm getting a refund. Hey avatar! Did you hear me? I... will... DELETE you!"

     "I hear you, God!" I cried out, crawling along the jagged cliff on my belly-- which hurt quite a lot, I recall. "Anything you ask I will do."

      "Of course you will," he replied with a snort. "That's what this thing is for" He flicked the small pike again while I ran around in a small circle. "I swear I don't know why they gave them A.I. in this one... its just a farming simulator. And its so dumb, too, like it was born yesterday."

     "I was born twelve years ago, my Lord," I called in correction, finally feeling myself again and standing still in the middle of the window.

     "No, dummy, I made you like six minutes ago… seriously I will delete you if this game does not pick up quick…"

    
       I never quite understood everything the divine Boy told me that morning in the Window of Light, but I worked hard for Him in the fields and deep mines for the rest of my life; even until it was time to take my own child across the morning-kissed lake and up the steep winding steps to peer into the void of our mighty creator. Unlike my father, I told him what to expect; and the clever child went prepared with a full list of detailed and intriguing questions. I still await his return as I write this, but I couldn't be any more proud.
 

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Edited by seeking_brilliance

This whole time, brilliance sought me.

@starsofclay on Instagram for my metaphysical art!

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(Another writing prompt exercise. please see the picture first)

 Sophia's Search

   When Sophia was a little girl, she lived in a world quite similar to our own. It was the type of world which took any appearance it desired, or emoted; and our world and all others existed within hers. There, the planets were like beach balls dangling in a twinkling ocean of infinity.

     Her parents were king and queen to this strange realm, and little Sophia inherited their abilities to oversee all of the worlds and realms. It was they who guided the hands of Earth's cavemen in conquering their fear of fire; and brandishing the ever-evolving wheel which propelled industrialism. They who turned the tides of the Americans against their English masters; and who guided that young country through each and every time it repeated the mistakes of its forefathers.   

     Queen Clara particularly enjoyed her involvement in the romance entertainment industry,  with her guiltiest pleasure being the scandalous but addicting Outlander series. But that's a long story for another day, and this correspondence can only hold a thousand words. I do hope it reaches you, young one, in a timely  manner.   

     Anyway, the king and queen became so enthralled with their incessant gardening, that they began to forget poor Sophia and ignore her into the nanny's care. The child continuously vied for her parent's attention; but they soon began to ignore her completely, not even looking away from their many worlds over which they ruled with a green and mighty thumb.   

     One morning, little Sophia awoke to find her parents quite fixated on their masterpieces in such a depth that they had become frozen; eyes open and faces blank, trapped in a  prison of their own dreams. Not even the smell of sun-roasted dragon wing, another guilty pleasure shared by both, could lure them from their zombic slumber. Plus, the servants were too afraid to poke their majesties, or to yell loudly in their presence.    

     Alone and broken, Sophia embarked on a half-baked quest to find someone, or something-- anything that could bring her parents back. She longed for the days when mother and father bounced her joyfully on their knees, back when it was easy to take a needed break from tireless creation. She tied a long piece of twine to each of her favorite worlds and carried them like balloons in one hand;  a lightly packed suitcase in the other.  Princess Sophia traveled the shifting lands of Whithernary, in search of a power great enough to break the spell.

   You must find her.

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Edited by seeking_brilliance

This whole time, brilliance sought me.

@starsofclay on Instagram for my metaphysical art!

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Flash fiction based on the picture:

 

The Mistake

 

Grief stricken, I roamed the brick-lined corridor, under the domed archways of Mcgowan's School of Magicks. The arches stretched on forever, until curving away and out of sight. Ah it was such a lively place when I attended. Mcgowan's was the most prestigious school of the arts in all of Avonli. Now it was indefinitely closed, and it was all my fault.

The memories flooding in were overwhelming: Under these arches was where I learned my first spell; had my first kiss with Margeritte, and my second with Kian. I remembered playing magicka under the arch with the yellow star graffitied on the side. This was where my group of friends congregated to groan about professors, practice spells, or invent wildly creative pranks against the Black Vipers-- an unruly gang of mostly fifth years who thought they owned the place. We had decided it was time to even the odds.

I had just learned to open a portal in advanced physicks, and was certain I could pop them over to the Artic for an hour or two, just when we knew they were planning a rather devastating raid on the school's supply pantry. One of our friends was sister to a Black Viper who had a loose mouth-- well, loose everything if you ask me...

I had the measurements ready, the perfect icicle wand to celebrate the occasion and the memorized incantation to open the portal. However, old-alchemic language was not my strong suit and who could have known the word for 'everyone' was so similar to the one for Viper?

Months later, I roamed the desolate halls of the school, searching for any incantation to correct my mistake. Except I couldn't read the more powerful spells written in old-alchemic.

I left for the city of Carpendale to find an interpreter.

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This whole time, brilliance sought me.

@starsofclay on Instagram for my metaphysical art!

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This is such a great topic idea. I'll get back to in later today or tomorrow. Leaving the bookmark saved.

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Cherry tree

There was a garden, which belonged to the house where my mother has grown up. In the middle of the garden was a cherry tree. Normally the cherry trees are rather small and slim. But this one was an enormous tree bearing enormous cherries. They were not red but black. As black as a night. They were not sour but sweet. As sweet as a dream with a light note of sourness. I spent a lot of time sitting on the top of the tree, eating cherries and looking around. And what a view it was: behind the row of houses a field of red poppies extended to the very horizon meeting a high blue sky. Once it stormed madly, thunders and lightnings exchanged every now and then, my tree swayed from side to side with me on the top. I was so high by all the crazy things happening around me, holding to the tree and flying with it in the wind.

My next memory of the tree is when my step grandpa died. I entered the house and he was lying on the table (probably it was more convenient to clean and dress him up on the table). It was hot but he had heavy boots and a black suit on. He looked heavy and soooo rigid, his face was white and swollen. I wondered how is it possible that somebody looks so rigid, I even haven´t touched him to know. Somebody from adults noticed me and pushed me hurriedly out of house. My multiple cousins were already playing in the garden and eating cherries from a cherry tree. I joined them. I was eating sweet black cherries and thinking that a dead man was lying on the table so close to us. A sweetish smell of a corpse was beginning to escape a house and was hanging around in the hot air.

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@Hulia nice one ? I'm curious, is this a memory or a fictional short story? 


This whole time, brilliance sought me.

@starsofclay on Instagram for my metaphysical art!

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4 hours ago, seeking_brilliance said:

@Hulia nice one ? I'm curious, is this a memory or a fictional short story? 

A memory. I am not as good in fictions as you  :) 

It was my 1st experience of the death. And I can tell you, it was quite a mess. Firstly my step grandpa unluckily died on Friday evening. Everything was closed on weekend, it was not that easy to get all the necessary documents and organize a funeral. My poor aunt in the middle of bureaucratic chaos. Secondly we all were waiting for my uncle who was coming from a place 8.000 km away. And he did it! He came in the last moment just before the cover was closed. He kissed his father on a cheek and everybody gasped, I heard a word "cadaveric poison". A grandpa didn´t look good at this point. A skin on his face cracked partially and at the corners of his mouth appeared blood.

Edited by Hulia

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Oh I see. Thanks for sharing. Those cherries sound huge and delicious. And yes you are, I read your lucid daydreaming report. Keep practising with that, and I think something will unlock. 

Edited by seeking_brilliance

This whole time, brilliance sought me.

@starsofclay on Instagram for my metaphysical art!

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@SirVladimir @Hulia@

@abrakamowse

Anyone interested in a writing prompt exercise? I'll post a picture, and it inspires the story. I typically like a word limit of 1000 words or less.  I'll at least try one for fun. 

I'll post the first prompt. 

(If you post a new promt, make sure to find pictures on a royalty free website like pixabay. ) 

Deadline : Sunday Jan 24th

 

 

cave-5438620_1280.jpg

Edited by seeking_brilliance

This whole time, brilliance sought me.

@starsofclay on Instagram for my metaphysical art!

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@seeking_brilliance I'm going to crack open your heart a little, as I realized I have too much work on top of my head already... And I don't wanna write a half-baked prompt. So we'll have to wait until Volume Two preview kicks in, I gotta stay on track. I do love reading your work, though. :ph34r:

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@SirVladimir no problem! Just stop in from time to time and pay with love. I'm rather cheap.  

Edited by seeking_brilliance

This whole time, brilliance sought me.

@starsofclay on Instagram for my metaphysical art!

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On 17/01/2021 at 7:04 AM, Hulia said:

It was my 1st experience of the death. And I can tell you, it was quite a mess. Firstly my step grandpa unluckily died on Friday evening. Everything was closed on weekend, it was not that easy to get all the necessary documents and organize a funeral. My poor aunt in the middle of bureaucratic chaos. Secondly we all were waiting for my uncle who was coming from a place 8.000 km away. And he did it! He came in the last moment just before the cover was closed. He kissed his father on a cheek and everybody gasped, I heard a word "cadaveric poison". A grandpa didn´t look good at this point. A skin on his face cracked partially and at the corners of his mouth appeared blood.

Wow that's pretty deep. I have an idea to finish your cherry tree story. Why don't you have your little self fall asleep up there in the tree and meet with grandpa somewhere for one last goodbye?  Maybe he has some healthy wisdom to share ? 


This whole time, brilliance sought me.

@starsofclay on Instagram for my metaphysical art!

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45 minutes ago, seeking_brilliance said:

Wow that's pretty deep. I have an idea to finish your cherry tree story. Why don't you have your little self fall asleep up there in the tree and meet with grandpa somewhere for one last goodbye?  Maybe he has some healthy wisdom to share ? 

I don´t know if it´s a good idea. He was too scary when I saw him last time :) Luckily I didn´t know anything about zombies and such things at the age :) 

But I really dreamt a lot of him and my other relatives did either. And in all our dreams he was in the house asking not to leave him alone. After he died nobody wanted to live in this house. Actually it was only my aunt with the family who had lived there before he died. But she refused to live there afterwards. We rented the house out. The 1st couple was a good family - friendly and nice, but somehow a husband was something like criminal businessman and was killed. His wife moved out. The 2nd renter hung himself up. After that we´ve sold a house. 

But I like this house and the garden, though I didn´t spend a lot of time there - sometimes my summer holidays. I dream very often being inside or outside of this house with or without grandpa. My mother and aunt have this dream too. I can recall many details. Though it´s eternity that I´ve been in the house last time. Was it at funeral? I think so. 

Edited by Hulia

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@seeking_brilliance a brilliant topic idea!

I'm being lazy, but this a micro-story reposted from my journal:

 

"I woke up. I think.

I couldn't quite work out what I had woken up from. What had been razor sharp and solid just then, had diffused into the husk of a sensation. The serenity had been broken and I began to feel agitated that I had been let go of without my consent. What was it? Where had I been? It was nowhere now.

Out of the husk grew something that I could remember.

Yes, yesterday I had celebrated my birthday. I thought about this. There had been the usual cohort of friends. Jez the joker in the pack, quick to make light of a heavy situation, his disposition rock solid; he was never outwardly melancholy. Cassy was forever warmhearted and would always get me quirky gifts - why is it I never returned the gestures? I couldn't remember just now. Franco idolised himself as some sort of Adonis, but I always found him to be harmless, and he threw a great party, it helped that he was in catering. The rest I couldn't bring to the fore, but boyfriends and wives and friends of my friends, there must have been twenty or so.

Come to think of it, had there been family there? No. Karen was on holiday in France with girlfriends. Mum had died only last year, what a god awful time that had been. Dad? I couldn't recall yet.

My temples began to throb. Ah yes. The Mojitos Franco had mixed one after the other. I was sure I could still smell the mint on my breath. I breathed in sharply. Of course Cassy had told him to stop and offered to show me to bed when I had started to say absurd things. Jez thought I was hilarious. Bed! I reached out and felt if there was a body next to mine. No. I felt a wave of relief and nausea come over me at the same time. I took another deep breath.

Suddenly, an alarm buzzed.

I opened my eyes for the first time. 10:20 am. "Shut the fuck up!" I shouted and the alarm stopped. It felt good to shout, but it also somehow felt like the first thing I had ever said, my voice was rough and raspy and unexpectedly deep. It was at that point that my bodily functions kicked in, and I knew that I had to get up.

I showered and dressed and ventured cautiously downstairs. 

The place had been immaculately cleared of the debris of the night before. In middle of the round oak table in the kitchen sat a small white box with an overly large red bow on it. It had to be. I opened it. 

Inside was a snow Globe, with the motto "Cassy" in red letters underneath. Once the snow slowly drifted down, I began to make out the words "Welcome to Heaven". I half smiled. I sat down and shook the snow globe again.


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26 minutes ago, LastThursday said:

@seeking_brilliance 

 

"I woke up. I think.

 

I love it!! Thank you! So mysterious. 

Edited by seeking_brilliance

This whole time, brilliance sought me.

@starsofclay on Instagram for my metaphysical art!

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@Myioko thank you so much for the critiques!! my heart blazens with your words. I love the scene of Matt Smith Doctor descending the victorian staircase from the Tardis up in the clouds. 

In The Mistake-- yeah its confusing haha :P what happened was, it was MUCH longer, but the challenge was like 300 words so i had to really get creative -- the narrator was part of a group who rivaled with the black Vipers, mostly just practical jokes to bring necessary justice. One of their friends has a sister who is in the Black Vipers, and her loose tongue spilled the beans on a raid the Vipers planned on the supply pantry. (potions, crystals, etc.) So the protagonist had recently learned to open portals so he looked up an incantation to send the Black Vipers to the Artic for a practical joke.  But he's not good at ancient alchemic language and accidently ends up sending everyone -the whole school- to the artic, except for himself (because in ancient alchemic language, the word for "black" just happens to be a very similar word phonetically to "everyone". Now he's roaming the empty halls searching for a spell to reverse it, but he's not good at the old language. So then he heads to a bigger city to find a scholar to help.   

 

Edited by seeking_brilliance

This whole time, brilliance sought me.

@starsofclay on Instagram for my metaphysical art!

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OK I  finished the writing prompt. It's a bit over at 1226 words, but oh well!

(Please see picture before reading)

     Devil's den

     It happened on family vacation. That summer we went camping in a large state forest in the lower hills of the Ozarks. I remember the powder blue Subaru we took up there; and playing rock-paper-scissors in the back seat with my younger brother to expel the boredom of such a long dive. He would always pick rock on the third go and I used this predictable behavior against him, typically for another handful of peanuts or M&M's. He was six and I, eleven, and being the nice big brother that I was, I sometimes picked scissors on the third try so he wouldn't starve to death. (Mom had packed lunches which we were to eat at the campsite, but dad missed a few turns and it was already passing 2 p.m.)

    By the time we arrived to the campsite, dad said he was too busy setting up the tents to eat, and mom said we could just save it all for dinner. Cole and I groaned in unison.

     "Here boys, have some crackers," she said, opening a package of peanut butter flavored. "And give your dad some, he's getting moody."

     Dad dropped his hammer on his toe while taking the snack and begged us boys to go and check on mom.

     "I have to PEE!" Cole yelled wildly, and bolted into the dense forest a few yards away from the site. Mom was unpacking clothes and dad… I didn't want to bother dad. I yelled out that I'd go after him, and they both waved me off in unison. I heard mom yell to be careful as I trotted off.

    The trees grew thick fast, but I could see Cole weaving in and out of them, looking for the right spot to relieve himself.

     "Watch your feet!" I called out, picking up speed. "Seriously, hang on! Wait for me! And Don't step on a snake!"

     My little brother had had already finished by the time I caught up, and I leaned against a nearby tree, huffing; hoping he hadn't marked it like a dog.

     Cole was a good kid. Quirky as hell, but good. At that age, he decided to randomly act like different animals, and that particular summer he was known to suddenly howl like a wolf, or walk on all fours like our dog, Bella. My parents found it funny, if not slightly obnoxious; but they never made him feel bad about it. I respected that as I grew older and wiser.

     "Look," he said, suddenly raising a finger towards something in the distance. I stepped closer and followed the point-- several hundred yards away the trees thinned out, revealing a large moss covered mound.

     "It looks like a cave," I said, with a hand over my eyes for better focus.  We both walked toward it, slowly at first and then quicker. It was a cave. I could see the hollowed opening just around the corner, hidden by large glossy ferns.

     We ran to the opening and peered curiously inside. Cole let out a high howl and it echoed back at us from within the rocky depths.

     "Let's go in!" he said, eyes beaming with the prospect of adventure.

    "Oh, Cole, I don't know…"

     But ultimately we took a few steps in because we couldn't help ourselves. The ground was a bit slick, and I grabbed Cole's shirt as we trudged through. At first it seemed like just a short tunnel, but that suddenly opened up into a much larger room with a few other tunnels diverging. The light from the entrance did not reach far into the larger cavern, so I held up my smartphone's flashlight for a better view.

     "Ooooh--" said Cole, rubbing his hands together. "Which one do we go in first?"

     "We should actually be getting back…" I replied, when suddenly the tunnel on the right lit up from within. A crimson light danced across the wet rocky walls like a huge fire was blazing somewhere deep inside. 

     Cole shot off toward it on all fours, howling with delight like an old dog on a new trail. I called after him, but naturally he pretended to ignore me because "dog's don't understand English."  I bolted after him, but he was quick as lightning. This new tunnel was much longer, and winding; and the fire's glow bounced off the twisting walls with such intensity I was sure I'd come upon it with every bend.

     "Cole!" I screamed, exhausted and worried.

     "He's right here," came a sudden voice from deeper within.  It's shrillness chilled the air, which had become increasingly warmer the farther I went.  "Better come quick!"

     A shrieking laugh flew past me and echoed in the large cavern behind, and I ran faster, because it almost sounded like Cole.  Suddenly the tunnel opened up and a roaring bonfire greeted me in the center of a much smaller cavern. Everything was quiet, except for the crackling of the large fire, and a strange noise which seemed to be coming from within-- a drumming sound, no... a heartbeat. 

     It sounded as if the fire had a heartbeat.

     "Cole?" I managed to squeak out, nearly frozen in a dreadful fear I could not describe.

     "Come, come. Step into the light, child." said the shrill voice, which really didn't sound male or female, but like a blend of both. It seemed to be coming from behind the large bonfire towering over me.

     I don't know why, but I stepped forward. The light of the red fire enveloped me in a hot wave. I cried out for Cole, but he didn't answer.

     "Cole! Can you hear me?"

      The fire blazed and the frightening voice let out another bone-chilling cackle.

     "And… who do we have here? Not one, but two delicious snacks for my fire."

     "Cole?" I screamed out--"who's there?  Cole?"

     "Yesss… Cole is here," the voice hissed. "Right here behind the fire with me. Oh, we would be so delighted if you will join us."

     "Mom!" I cried-- the only thing that came to mind. "I'm calling-- I'm calling mom…" I unlocked my phone with shaking fingers, and dialed as fast as I could. No reception.

     "Come closer, child," the voice said. "Closer child...closer...."

     I did step forward-- not from the bidding but with a sudden flash of courage. Just thinking of mom was what did it. Right then and there, in a split second before the great blazing fire, I promised her I'd bring him back.

     "Give me my brother!" I yelled out, defiantly.

      Another shrill cackle, and the great fire's heartbeat grew faster and louder.

     "And why… would I give you something you want...without getting something that I want in return?"

    "Just give me Cole, and I'll give you anything you want!" I yelled. "What do you want?"

                 *******

        It's been ten years since that day. Ten years. God, its really time, isn't it? 

      Today, I'll drive back up there. I haven't been back since that awful day and Cole no longer remembers it. I did the right thing, I know it. When I get there, I'll find the cave and look for the fire. It said the fire will be there to guide me. And it will be there, the voice. Waiting. Ready to spend its wish. Because the only thing it said it wanted was--

     "out."

     It said in ten years I would be ready. In ten years I could carry it out. It told me what would happen if I didn't return. 

     If you find this letter, please tell Cole I love him.  He was a good brother.

 

    
    

cave-5438620_1280.jpg.0e594bf1df140a976b703b4d19e22fd8.jpg

Edited by seeking_brilliance

This whole time, brilliance sought me.

@starsofclay on Instagram for my metaphysical art!

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