Chapter Two

A few miles off of the coast of Sorche was a small island, still within the city's solemn limits. A simple tin boat could carry four, maybe five at the most. I knew that I had to make it there before the sun started to rise and to do that, I quickened my step, way past any comfortable pace. Making it out without a scratch, that success wouldn't compare to most of my desires. The walking was interminable and my pulse was more and more becoming to the steps that I took. Within 40 minutes I had walked three miles to where the Toady's made post. They're gates were so calming but a tiny sliver of the sun could be seen over the skyline and I knew that the last boat would be docking just now. Luckily there were only three Toady's and I was one of the very few Sorchans left. They challenged the gates structure by staying so late. But, they knew that I would be coming. Toady's were always loyal to the Sorchans. (working progress)

Chapter One

I shuffle along, because I had never actually learned how to pick my feet up while walking. Encountering endless street signs, every one with a different meaning. But, both empty holes in my face funneling into the same meaning. Curious about where the shuffling will thicken or thin, the dust lifts and settles back down into small coves, miniature mountains in the road. Too familiar. We can't find the right lines to straighten things out. We can't find the right numbers to make things right again. Slowly the signs start to lean and the dense pockets of hot air collapse into breathable pockets of cold air. This is the easy night sending bad news of a harsh morning. The sun rises and tries to climb up over the low lying clouds but fails. The clouds are wrong. Last night they held promise and made comforting shapes. Now, they creep lower and lower and swirl down into quickly numbing ears. They're the Darker Clouds. Whispering tales of how things could have been. They pull in closer to share information that is vital to chances of survival. This morning, they are telling secrets of the Great Orange trees that bear froth covered, beak wearing, brown fruits. Walking into the dark I strayed far from any road. Heel and toe of both shoes bore thick pads of dirt. Night would prove that a shrinking sun was brighter than a rising one.
With the setting sun, I pulled myself further up onto the peak of yet another hill, the moon far brighter than the sun could ever shine with the Darker Clouds following so closely beneath. Dull light poured onto a sign stretching twenty feet into the air. The sign had a post that swelled then shrunk, swelled then shrunk, like a slowly beating heart. Beyond, I saw the Great Orange trees. In my mind they screamed and sighed as their fruit fell all at once and sunk into the ground with a setting sun. I had learned of these tree's from the Darker Clouds. Heard of what was to happen with the next sunrise. The Darker Clouds licking at the air around them. Greebins were the worst of the day fruits. I would have to find shelter.