AuroraA Story by Jeannette Lunete"The urge to be a pilgrim created the constellation. It was meant to never reach the destination. Rain drops will never reach the end of the window they will just melt into an another dimension. Like I will. One day." Her prohibited wonderment was the trophy for an a cappela choir of muted despair. The ashes of the last dreamer were meant to eliminate the reinforcement of coming melodies. Bordeaux curtains announced the final act. Suddenly a bass-voiced shadow started to talk imperiously to the choir: "Get the sparkle out of her eyes and then freeze the endoprhin marche. Transplant her aura to the disabled optimists and aspired misanthropes." The chorus choked coming verses of remorse. The rays of her aurora lighted epidermis were caught in epruvettes of broken hopes. The curtains are getting closer, while the ashes are conquering the aiguille with the anthem of her insomniac unrest: "Pale claws of banishment are always gazed like kaleidscopes after dark bondages. May the sein of shooting stars illuminate the sacrifice." The last tune has finally reached the destination.
© 2014 Jeannette LuneteReviews
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Added on September 27, 2014Last Updated on September 28, 2014 AuthorJeannette LuneteAboutMiracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see. C. S. Lewis more..Writing
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