For The Love of Gods and Men

A lazy Sunday evening blends seamlessly into a dynamic early Monday. I lean back in my seat, propping my feet up on the adjacent chair, and give a satisfied sigh. Across my face, a bruise blossoms alongside a smug smile as I stretch indolently. Bruises so often accompany misfortune and ill will, but tonight they are badges of pride. Each one is bought and paid for in carefully placed words and slowly built tension. I deserve each one and I wear them with the dignity they deserve. The damp night spreads out around me, embracing me with a blessedly cool wind that makes me shiver despite the heat of summer. The rain that refreshed the afternoon still falls, slowly and steadily. The heavy drops all but sizzling as they fall upon my still burning temper. The alcohol in my blood pulses through my veins, still white hot with equal parts rage and egotism. My companions complain about the weather, but no one makes a move to get out of it. They turn the music louder; songs of triumph and euphoria balancing with the cries of the frogs in the distance. Their laughter echoes in the distant thunder as they retell the events of the evening. Each time, more detail is added, and each time my antics seem more and more grand. By the time I wake tomorrow, it will have spread into a tale of truly epic proportions.

I sigh, content to take in the post-midnight scene and lapse into pensive silence. I need more nights like this. Not necessarily the bruises, but the gladness with which I find the dark. The shadows around me do not encroach, do not loom, do not intimidate me in the way they have lately. I am among the shadows, yet not drowning in them. I greet the third hour of the morning as easily as I might the break of dawn. Thoughts of unease and disquiet are banished. This is how summers should be spent.

Reviews

[Alice Poésy]

I feel like I'm looking at a gradient piece where the colours flow so seamlessly from one to another. Your words are like a paintbrush. I can't just see this scene, but I can feel it and taste it and this is wondrous talent.

"My companions complain about the weather, but no one makes a move to get out of it. They turn the music louder" what a perfect way to describe the world today.

Well done!

[Mifa]

Jesus! Wow...Please what writing planet are you from? I am certain not earth cause this is just too good of a work to be ignored. No dialogue or anything but the story feels so real. God! I think I've falling in love. No, no, no...I have to admit it. This is just to good not to shout it out loud...THE BLASPHEMOUS OPTIMIST ROCKS!!!!

Never, ever, ever stop writing.