23
Created by OnePlusYou
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Sure enough, just as my friend had described, on the floor, in fact practically dead center, were the four marks, all of them longer than a hand, jagged bits of wood clawed up by something neither one of us cared to imagine. But that's not what Lude wanted me to see either. He was pointing at something else which hardly impressed me when I first glanced at its implacable shape.
Truth be told, I was still having a hard time taking my eyes off the scarred floor. I even reached out to touch the protruding splinters.
What did I know then? What do I know now? At least some of the horror I took away at four in the morning you now have before you, waiting for you a little like it waited for me that night, only without these few covering pages.
As I discovered, there were reams and reams of it. Endless snarls of words, sometimes twisting into meaning, sometimes into nothing at all, frequently breaking apart, always branching off into other pieces I'd come across later - on old napkins, the tattered edges of an envelope, once even on the back of a postage stamp; everything and anything but empty; each fragment completely coverd with the creep of years and years of ink pronouncements; layerd, crossed out, amended; hand written, typed, legible, illegible; impenetrable, lucid; torn, stained, scotch taped; some bits crisp and clean, others faded, burnt or folded and refolded so many times the creases have obliterated whole passages of god knows what - sense? truth? deceit? a legacy of prophecy or lunacy or nothing of the kind? and in the end achieving, designating, describing, recreating - find your own words; I have no more; or plenty more but why? and all to tell - what?
Lude didn't need the answer, but somehow he knew I would. Maybe that's why we were friends. Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he did need the answer, he just knew he wasn't the one who could find it. Maybe that's the real reason we were friends. But that's probably wrong too.
One thing's for sure, even without touching it, both of us slowly began to feel its heaviness, sensed something horrifying in its proportions, its silence, its stillness, even it it did seem to have been shoved almost carelessly to the side of the room. I think now if someone had said, "Be careful!", we would have. I know a moment came when I felt certain its resolute blackness was capable of anything, even of slashing out, tearing up the floor, murdering Zampano, murdering us, maybe even murdering you. And then the moment passed. Wonder and the way the unimaginable is sometimes suggested by the inanimate suddenly faded.
The thing became only a thing
So I took it home.
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You Are a Seeker Soul
You are on a quest for knowledge and life challenges.
You love to be curious and ask a ton of questions.
Since you know so much, you make for an interesting conversationalist.
Mentally alert, you can outwit almost anyone (and have fun doing it!).
Very introspective, you can be silently critical of others.
And your quiet nature makes it difficult for people to get to know you.
You see yourself as a philosopher, and you take everything philosophically.
Your main talent is expressing and communicating ideas.
Souls you are most compatible with: Hunter Soul and Visionary Soul What Kind of Soul Are You?