Re: GAME: Continue the story And so she added yet another creature to the phantom menagerie that was her imagination. There were dozens now: some fresh and vivid, some faint, and no longer interesting. But all were her own. These drifting friends, who no-one but her could see, gave her some comfort in isolation.
Her real friends weren't half as entertaining, that fact saddened her immensely. Were they even friends? No, just people she knew; little different from those she didn't.
But her dreams... so vivid, so much more than this grey world of waking hours! They had become more and more frequent lately. But why did the dreams happen so often now? Nothing unusual had happened lately except...[continue here]
Re: GAME: Continue the story Except that her world of thoughts and cold facts was no longer protecting her against the world. She could no longer lose herself in patterns and numbers, thus forgetting that the world had caused her to put aside her humanity. Despite that fact that her heart was safely enclosed, the pain of existence still reached her.
In despair, she built another tower of ice, and enclosed her mind there; far away from her life; far away from her heart, for if her heart and mind were to communicate, the horror of their realisations would surely destroy her.
The child was now full of greyness, emptiness, nothingness. The child was now fit to live in the world.
Last edited by Rachel TheClarinetist, 11/28/2005, 1:13 am
--- Breathing is important! If you don't breathe, your sound will deteriorate, your phrasing will suffer, and you will die.
