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by Jagbu Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · War · #2324735
Written in 2016 so the overall contents are not anything to write home about.
By : Jagbu
Made in : 2016

Rusty and Dusty Tale

Some stories end before they finish, the bright promising future adrift lost in the quiet aether, a tale untold, and greyed out in the many annals of time. See you begin an adventure with bright unassuming eyes, only to be blindsided and distracted by fruitless come up and impractical feats never to see fourison and abandon your aspirations, resigning yourself to closing out a chapter before it was genuinely complete and set aside. That burning desire to see it through just wasn't entirely there, but sometimes unexpectedly a precipitous problem can arise leading you, to explore all the dry fresh cards at your fingertips leading you to find a swift yet ideal serendipitous moment, that can blossom, blooming into a heavy driving impetus. It forces your hand, it makes you come back and finish what you started. But let's take it back to the exceedingly far beginning of my spiritual story.


My tale of countless highs and lows beginning by waking from my immeasurable slumber below many thick tree line so to be torn down by many struggles and hardships, I peeking around my surroundings grasp while taking what feel to be a near sensory overload, to a lust yet formidable environment I was alone with only the chirps of birds and far flung echoes keeping me company. Walking past the few berries that littered the trail I buckled under the intense emotional burden that laid upon inside my inflamed mind with busy dizziness and squishy summing up the state of things. Still walking a came upon a rich ditch filled in with immaculate amounts of headcount laden with a continuous root reaching the limit of my limits and as I rebutled from this twilight site of potato purged beyond passion and pool of viscous scarlet gore was not for the faint of heart with that came something grander in not just one way. The hurdling of this tiny coal dot sent shivers to the very bubbles of my body and noise became apparent.

A faint yet distinct wind arouse with the sound of sublime olive green forest gradually being taken over by the supremacy painted to high standard it clocking shadow of seal black tinted, a colossal machine with only the sounds of it superior blades manufacturing a horrific profile and site to behold all incomprehensible in one secure structure. A helicopter. As I watched frozen in fear, it turned ever so slightly and as it did so I could feel a dropping feeling. The whirl of the blades masking its cool gaze as I was inundated with red beams of light and at very I knew my fate was set forever in stone. Then it's cracked and chang out, the once peaceful summer time facade fated in the wilderness as it bled a new deep cutting red.






















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