Dragonfly

  

Golden steel wings, shimmering, reflecting the scorching white sun across the clear flowing stream, the screeching sound of brake callipers pounding tightly onto spinning wheels.

An open clearing stood in front of the ancient metal demon jeep as it span helplessly past the green trees and shiny stones, the tire trenches scorched like fire across the green grass. The clearing was like another plain, another existence, something parallel to the current universe, and it was all so beautiful the grass whispered in the wind and the cherry flower petals were swiftly passing through the air. The ice had slowly retreated back onto the mountains covering them in a blue white sheet that reflected the fire that had began to blaze from the now totalled demon jeep, its wheels reaching to the sky, the black sprayed door sprawled across the choking grass as slowly a figure dressed in a red and orange leather fabric long coat crawled from the gaping gap of the open doorway of the dying machine, he sat for a second on the grass waiting…watching…his hands clutching tightly, his eyes staring blankly at the flames as they slowly rose caressing the oxygen changing it into grey smoke that bloomed like a grotesque cloud.

 

The golden shimmer of the vibrating wings that echoed dully across the empty landscape slowed down to a gentle beating, each flap sounded like a pulse of sound to the ear. The machine that the metal wings were attached to was different, shaped like a dragonfly, smooth as a beach stone and pale as snow it gave of a malicious aura as the slowly descending dragonfly made the wings look stupid despite the wonderful glow that it let off.

The man that sat on the grass watched his pulse increasing gradually as the wind from the heavy wings encircled him; his dark purple hair was blown away revealing a complexion of patient stone.

There were no lines creasing his face yet his eyes told a story that even veterans would take heed to. The spiritless green irises told experience, emotionless…and dead experiences, sitting there the man seemed like a black hole, an anomaly in a field of colour, green, red, yellow, blue were slowly blowing in the wind and the sound, flowing elegantly around the field.

 

The machine landed in an abandoned paddock creating a sound wave that crept fast over the hill blowing the grass at an acute angle like a wave of green or a massive invisible tank was silently rolling over the field. Standing up and stretching the mans fabric coat immediately whipped back, the sound of flowing fabric that was drowned out by the hum of the dragonfly blew peacefully away from the destructive body hoping for escape but to no avail. Taking a step forward the sound of crisp grass being trodden upon lightly as the man hovered of sorts over the field.