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A Flickering Memory. Part 1

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A house stood tall and lonesome, residing upon a flat and open field. There was no other sign of human corruption upon the beauty of nature, just that one, single house. Did anyone live inside? That was a question not many knew the answer to.

Through the old, rotten door was a melancholy room that held no colour, no light to it except for something flickering in what someone would assume to be the living room of the household. A great and old television stood on the far side of the common room; sharing no other companion besides a great, leather chair that sat in the centre of the room, facing the small screen of static and white noise.

The old seat had a user there already, cold and silent. One arm lazily resting on the rest while another lifted up with what appeared to a remote in its leathery hand, constantly pressing the power button over and over again from boredom. The figure wore a hood, any wandering eyes could not see beneath it. Brief glimpses of snow white are all that one could see without getting too close.

Finally, the static of the TV set died down, replacing the white noise with the sweet symphony played by the sweetest of orchestras. Static became pictures of beauty, rose petals peacefully flowing in breeze of Summer. To humans dancing together, arms linked, bodies closely embracing, a floor of moving couples laughing, smiling and kissing with one another. A masquerade for the finest of human beings and their wealth. Bystanders who knew not how to dance, simply praised those confident few, arming themselves with glasses of champagne and occasionally flicking their palms up, briefly, to adjust their wondrous masks.

A new couple arrived, both wearing the finest attire in the room. The male, muscular and tall, handsomely dressed in a suit of charcoal black with a rather simple mask of a white material and no other detail besides black lips painted on simply. Hanging onto his arm was a rather elegantly dressed woman in a form fitting, silvery dress. Her mask was dark, black, a contrast to the rest of her attire. Both pale and giggling to themselves as they take centre stage upon that dance floor, dismissing the other dancers immediately.

Just as their performance began, the scene was replaced with static once again as the remote cracked in the being’s hand, a leathery digit firmly pressing down on the power button. A hushed voice spoke out defiantly at the screen as the finger lessened the pressure on the remote controller’s power button.

“No more.”

The white noise grew louder and the music faded, obeying the creature’s order.

2 Comments

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  1. Varya Nikolaeva 7 years ago

    Noted.

  2. astounded 

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