06-29-2009, 12:39 AM
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mall-caps;">in a world that i don’t want to know
with a message that i never want to send
The sun had gone down but moments ago; along the sky's edges remained the slightest hints of pink highlight. The stars that would have littered the sky were not visible, hidden behind a thick layer of cloud that broke in random places to reveal blackness and, occasionally, a handful of twinkling orbs. The moon itself could not be seen, nor its phase, but a ghostly glow behind the purple cloud made its location known. The lack of illumination allowed him to move through the cemetery in darkness, a dark ghost amongst stationary shadows.
The male had little respect for the graves around him. Some might have, as they represented something, were the burial place of individuals who — in this case — had done something important, something to be remembered by the once prominent and proud human race. He, however, did not care for the headstones, nor the earth before them. The earth was disturbed carelessly beneath his paws, the more fragile of headstones — for, some of them were surprisingly sturdy, having defied the sands of time — pushed to the side or made to crumble into further disarray by his movement. Why should he care for their condition? The graves were not of anyone he would ever know — those buried were not even the same kind as he. They meant nothing to him.
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with a message that i never want to send
The sun had gone down but moments ago; along the sky's edges remained the slightest hints of pink highlight. The stars that would have littered the sky were not visible, hidden behind a thick layer of cloud that broke in random places to reveal blackness and, occasionally, a handful of twinkling orbs. The moon itself could not be seen, nor its phase, but a ghostly glow behind the purple cloud made its location known. The lack of illumination allowed him to move through the cemetery in darkness, a dark ghost amongst stationary shadows.
The male had little respect for the graves around him. Some might have, as they represented something, were the burial place of individuals who — in this case — had done something important, something to be remembered by the once prominent and proud human race. He, however, did not care for the headstones, nor the earth before them. The earth was disturbed carelessly beneath his paws, the more fragile of headstones — for, some of them were surprisingly sturdy, having defied the sands of time — pushed to the side or made to crumble into further disarray by his movement. Why should he care for their condition? The graves were not of anyone he would ever know — those buried were not even the same kind as he. They meant nothing to him.