Waking of Friday, March 3, 2017 ~ 5
The road was long, and eerie. Stone ruins, mossy overturned
carts, chests with rusted weapons inside them....
The world was big. And empty, it
seemed.
But as I crossed a great stone
bridge, I saw something that astounded me—another shape, something upright on
the stone, something moving—
It was a person!
I went to meet him—his name was
Brigo, and he remarked on the abundance of towers
he had seen spring up all around.
And he wondered if that thing was going to wake up as well.
What thing? I asked him.
And he pointed to the beach to my
left, on the far side of the river I was crossing.
It was one of the rusted guardians.
One of them had sprung to life and
chased after him, he told me. He’d thought his life was over and all he could
do was run as fast as he could.... But he escaped into the woods—it was only
luck that he’d gotten away, he said.
He wondered if the end of the world were coming.
Maybe the world was big and empty
to him, too.
But it was nice to see a friendly
face.
No comments:
Post a Comment