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Walker by Narodnikkki

Walker by Narodnikkki

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Published by narodnikkki
He feels cold, starting from his heart radiating outwards, to the back of his neck and head. Goes down to his lower torso and stomach, to his legs. He turns and takes another glance. The house seems so familiar, as if he has walked these floorboards before, countless times. He remembers there is a wooden stairway somewhere leading up to more rooms above.
He feels cold, starting from his heart radiating outwards, to the back of his neck and head. Goes down to his lower torso and stomach, to his legs. He turns and takes another glance. The house seems so familiar, as if he has walked these floorboards before, countless times. He remembers there is a wooden stairway somewhere leading up to more rooms above.

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Published by: narodnikkki on May 07, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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05/07/2012

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A huge piece of himself was missing. A huge hole, so huge it went beyond the outline of his form. He thought, this is ridiculous. He thought, there must be a way out of thisemptiness. From his vantage point, at the top of the skyscraper, he could see themetallic red-orange of the setting sun filling the whole sky.Walking down the stairs he feels heavy. Even his thoughts weigh on him. Thinking toomuch, again, about nothing in particular. And that's the problem. One should think, andthink about something. Thinking for the sake of thinking, that's pointless. Empty. Thesethoughts go on the whole time he walks from the first step down to the last.He looks at all the people. Many are hurrying off to the places they are supposed to be,others amble along at a leisurely pace. The sky now is dark, and the world is coveredwith haze. Shops and stores, and other business establishments have started to turntheir electric lights on minutes before the sun set. Maybe, he thought, I should eat. Hecontinues walking towards his house. He goes to sleep.He starts dreaming. He rarely dreams. When he wakes up he forgets about most of them. He is dreaming of walking. There is a large house and he knocks. This house heremembers from all the other dreams he has had before. It is always there, but not inthe way that it has come to occupy his attention this time. The door opens, he enters.It is dark and he takes a moment to stand and adjust his eyes. He read somewhere thatwhen going into darker places, in order to avoid bumping into things and possiblyinjuring oneself, one should orient one's eyes to the light in the room.What comes into focus are these statues. Scattered all over the large space. Saintsalmost as tall as him, some missing several parts. An eye. A foot. A finger. An entirearm. But still there standing. Old layers of paint are cracking, so much in some, thatthey look like mosaic. Beyond are numerous rooms, all with their doors missing.He enters the first room. It is darker here. From the little light that managed to passinside, he could make out an old bed without a mattress. There appears to be a personin it, though he is uncertain. He goes out, and sees the door he entered closing.He runs towards it, but he is too late. He knew that once it closes he would be stuck inthis house forever. Yet somehow he was expecting that something like this wouldhappen. Maybe even wished for it to happen.He feels cold, starting from his heart radiating outwards, to the back of his neck andhead. Goes down to his lower torso and stomach, to his legs. He turns and takesanother glance. The house seems so familiar, as if he has walked these floorboardsbefore, countless times. He remembers there is a wooden stairway somewhere leadingup to more rooms above. The stairs creak as he walks. Termites have eaten through many of the rungs, so thatwith each step, sand-like remains of the wood rain down onto the floor. He continues
WALKER by narodnikkki

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