I know there will be at least a few people who didn't think I'd actually pick this back up again and to those people I only have one thing to say: "Shun the non-believers!"
As per usual if you are new to this little story of mine I'd advise you to start off right at the beginning so you can fully enjoy the experience. I won't be putting up links for each part anymore though, as I was aiming at restructuring these posts a bit anyways. Too many pointless links only clutter up the site..
But as I was saying - link to part 1, coming right up.
The Bamboo Labyrinth - Part 1: Introduction
And now for the actual update - enjoy.
*~*
The rustling, or whatever sound it was that presented itself to me was quickly discarded as the sound all great old houses would utter during the day or night. Yet the feeling that arose alongside it was something more like knowing when two eyes rest upon you far from your own sight. A suspicion transcending every normal form of perception and directly correlates to something more vile and primitive as instincts. Though, one should not make the mistake to take this ‘primitive’ as a negative statement. In this, our world one side of a coin always needs the other. They depend on their opposite. As light needs the shadow to exist and have a meaning, so does our intelligence rely on our once primal foundation. The day we shalt lose all our instincts will most likely be the day our race dies out. But enough of this diversion my mind send us along so happily.
She was there, together with me in the same room. I didn’t see her, as she kept herself hidden away like a scared little puppy but I already knew it. It wasn’t fear, yet I could almost feel how nervous she was just from me finding out about this room.
The pointless tension in the air was ever rising, up until the point that I boldly decided to make an end to it. I called into the small room like a daft old man or stupid young child. The words leave my mouth without a sound. I dare say I’m unable to remember any of them, though in all honesty, they can’t be too hard to guess. The game is over, would fit the scene. Or ‘no need to hide from me, I won’t bite.’ Yet in any of those lucid creations the mind of an adult already swings along, ripping apart the fine pristine words of the youth.
The moment that follows is one of those I cherish. It has its own place in my heart when I watch closely how one of the walls is pulled to the side, revealing another small room directly adjacent to this one. A girl is standing in the newly opened doorway, her hands slightly shaking. She even tries to still hide behind a part of this loose piece of wall.
She seemed so frail, to vulnerable and on a completely different note almost longing. But what it was, that she appeared to be seeking so desperately is something I never really found out, at least not directly.
At first it proved hard to believe how she should a member of the family housing us as guests, the way how she was shaking, looking afraid like that. But something else quickly took over in my eyes when looking at her.
The gloom she radiated seemed to cease and instead something entirely different emerged. I wanted to take her in, keep watch over her, just from this sight. I wanted to grab her hand and never let go of it again.
It feels like everything happened on a mere whim of mine, it was all so sudden I hardly understood my own thoughts. And how can you in such a moment?
Her hair was blond, golden for me even. Her eyes of light blue like the afternoon sky on a sunny day and her skin would surely feel as soft as a freshly put down pillow. Her body was nicely developed, though she wasn’t as slim as my first sight tried to convince me of. As I stood there she seemed to be everything I ever wished for or could ever think of wanting. Yet now, it also somehow strikes me how ordinary this memory looks.
But it’s not about the picture you paint, but the feeling it evokes.
Hardly more than a minute had passed and I had already lived through three to four possible lives with her at my side, ending in various drama and romance and even comedy. A feeling only the worst romantics amongst us will ever understand. It’s something I’m not too proud of, but everything has its advantages as well as most likely its own disadvantages. And all this time, she was standing there only shacking as four lives had passed meanwhile and several generations had been born and raised into greatness. She was so frail, she needed protection, it screamed at me. And soon enough I would find out why.
*~*
*click here to keep on reading with part 7*
There you go, next part coming right up next Friday. Same place - 'bout the same time. I admit lengthwise I got a bit carried away with this one, but I hope it won't matter too much.
Anyways, as always thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it and that you'll feel the need to drop by next week again.
Marc, disgustingly light side oriented hobby-Sith
P.S.: I'll be on the lookout for some new kittehs, promise and I'll upload the picture of Mauzi III during the upcoming week, once I get around to scanning it.
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