TDV 9: The Chambers of Nature’s MachinesJanuary 28th, 2008 by Sharkchild
I would lie in the middle of Turnby Road on those days when the wind would explain the seasons and the cold and the feelings quickly lit and quickly dampened. The leaves from elderly oak trees would carve their sacred fates between the airs, arousing the nostalgic memories of imagined pasts. In this unsettled ocean of dryness and brittleness, I would rest and soak in the mystifying sounds and crackles. I did not fear that anything might come by, nor did I ever expect it—especially on such days of unrest. So, without disturbance, I laid amongst the turmoil of magical expectancy, involving myself in tales wrapped on the motives lingering behind the engines of nature.
All too many had spoken of the words heard amongst the wind, or at least behind it, but I had much different inclinations from the invisible transports. There was a system to it all, an uncalculated tempo and a mysterious strength. My intuitions conceived an ancientness beset within the heart of a god-like tapestry—a masterpiece sculpted and constructed, mechanically and technically, for purposes of life’s resolutions. I envisioned a magnificent machine built in spiritual dimensions that garnered the energy to exude such power. With organic muscle, it forced soul into the essence of menial happenstances, binding its thought with the world. My mind was lost on the exquisiteness of such hidden things—things I sought in the realms above and around, and even in the realms below.
On one particular instance of my reveling on Turnby Road, my own hidden longings came to exist in the most unthinkable of manners. A carriage came down the road at the twilight of the day, and without such sight as would be required to navigate opposite that of a dreaming boy, it ran across my chest, striking me into oblivion then and there. I recall feeling an unnerving spike of discomfort and the sudden splurge of liquid erupting within me. The pain of it only had a rare affect and was over quite instantly.
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