It's a random thing that I just wrote.
She walked towards the sea but it departed. She searched and searched but couldn't find it. While searching for her sea, she lost herself. For the day she lost the sea, she lost her soul.
Who was she now? A mere shadow of her former self? Could she re-create her soul or would she be forever soulless?
These are the questions that harassed her fragile mind.
She yearned for her soul, without it she was incomplete, or at least that was what she thought.
The next day, the sea returned but her soul was still nowhere to be found. The panic, terror and rage began.
She tried to start again, to begin a life without her soul. She kept building her tower but it always fell back down, as the foundations were not strong enough. She wanted to give up but her despair only fuelled the fire, her will to live. She kept building her tower, her building her tower became her raison d'être.
In the end she built her tower, stood back and stared at it, the tower that was built with her sweat and blood.
She then fainted out of contentment and when she awoke, she found her soul. It was in a brown package with her name scrawled on it, she took one look at it and threw it away in the sea. Who needs a soul, she thought. Souls are like trees. They take a long time to cultivate, but you can always grow a new one.
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- Thread Starter
Last edited by L'absurde; 22-10-2015 at 20:15.
- 22-10-2015 20:12
- 22-10-2015 20:15
It's kind of boring to read. Rather than saying "panic, terror and rage..." try and give some specifics. Because listing adjectives doesn't make a good story v:
- Thread Starter
- 22-10-2015 20:33