- Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Little Ice

His little hand cupped the frozen ice with tenderness and care. His gaze locked on the mist escaping the solid into the air. How nice, he thought and smiled. It was as if he had never seen such a simple yet wonderful thing in his entire short life, of five years.

He wasn't of noble birth; but just a street rat. He goes around begging for food, for attention, for love. Of course passer-bys would've somehow noticed him, because of his torn stained clothes hanging on his thin bony shoulders and slim waist. They scowled at sight of him, and cursed heaven for putting such stain within their glorious society. Looking at a contamination of sight, all they could do is to toss a couple of pennies and walk quickly away, and then breathe out, "Oh, thank God it's over! I hope he goes away soon. Such filth!"

He heard their comments, their words. But he wouldn't say anything. He knew, from the bottom of his heart, their absolute meanings - he stained, he was unwanted, he was trash. If there was any proper analogy needed for dirtiness, it would be him. He looked at his hands, still with the melting ice in his hands. He breathe in the air around the little cold zone, where the frosty air dances around, and closed his eyes. The olfactory experience filled his lungs, stings his mind with incomprehensible pleasure. Ah, how nice, he smiled.

He looked around. Rich people walking pass him. Somehow he felt invisible, but with his little ice around, he felt safe. He felt himself enveloped in cold air, and frosting slowly until his surrounding froze, and disappeared. Ah, what a wonderful sight! He commented.

Somehow the ice within his petite hands was going to melt away, evaporate and disappear. At least it was going somewhere - to the skies, and back to earth - such routinous cycle, but at least it had destinies, though they were repeated. Lately, at a church nearby the town, he heard from the Church Father, Father Moris, preaching about going somewhere after leaving this sad world. It would either be heaven or hell. But what if, he wondered and questioned, there was somewhere in the middle, discounting the earth? Perhaps it would be a combination of pain and happiness? Or, perhaps absolute pain as happiness?

Perhaps, he thought, he would end up nowhere. Not heaven, nor earth, nor in the middle. He smiled. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...

2 comments:

Vic said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Vic said...

Okay... here goes...

The Weak:
1) Past/Present tense inconsistency...
e.g. "He wasn't of noble birth... He goes around begging"
The first one's past tense. The second one's present.

2) Single/plural inconsistency...
e.g. "putting such stain" should be either "putting such stains" or, in the context of your story, "putting such a stain" (seeing as he's counted as a single entity)


The Strong
3) Your depiction of the little things and the feelings involved is something to be treasured. Whether it's simply because you had slowed down when you wrote this or whether you've got an innate talent for the intricate details, this is a strong point of your piece.

4) This post has the potential to be the start of what could very well take the form of an epic story. Have you thought of expanding it into a full scale project?