Compartment 114
Compartment 114
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The Elegance in Living

The Elegance in Living

A Story by Grahm Thoman
"

a short story that plays around with life and death.

"

The Elegance in Living

 

The clouds had deepened and the temperature dropping to a chilled degree, creating a gloom full night. A light began to stir and buzz about the streets, this was no ordinary light. No this was the light of a child’s soul. Within the dark ally, containing the sounds of chains rattling at steady speed and the feel of agony, there was a lost soul.

               

                          “Where did it come from?”

        

                        “When did it happen?”

   

           “Who had done it?”

 

 Those are the thoughts of your “average person”, what one may ask themselves, while approaching a situation as such, but not Xander Evans.  No he was grinning like a fool as he asked aloud to no one in particular,

“I wonder how this one will taste”.

He grabbed the small buzzing soul and shoveled the life into his lips whole, licking his lips hungrily for another. He’s a Soul Easter, born into this world as a thin death burdened creature that must feed upon the souls of others. He had never asked for this life, a low lived immortal being that wondered the night dreamily with no direction. In the end it hadn’t been the fault of his.

 

Every morning as the sun rises, he asks to himself

“Why had my mother forsaken me like this?”

 

 

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Little Alexander loved the rain, strolling about the stone tiled ally through the sputter of rain puddles. Beaming his youthful smile with his lollipop in hand, no other day could compare to this bliss. Alexander was thinking of his friend, as he approached closer to Tom’s house.

They had planned to pester the neighbor girl’s; Alexander had been crushing on one of the girls in particular, Sandy Rogers. Tall and agile for her age, only at ten years into her life she had boys wrapped around that tinny pink painted pinky of hers. His thoughts occupied around Tom’s and seeing Sandy, alexander hadn’t busied himself on the corner street turn. His life may have never changed so utterly upside down, if only he had glanced around that tricky corner, to see the oncoming car.

He was dead, three minutes of red hot pain then cold. The driver hurriedly propelled themselves from the rusted car door, running over to reach down and fumble around, checking for his pulse.

Flat…cold as stone, smiling to herself she reached forward and grasped the lollipop by thumb and forefinger. Eagerly sucking on the lollipop, only to stop the attack on the sugared sphere to say

“Sweet dreams, son”.

© 2013 Grahm Thoman


Author's Note

Grahm Thoman
let me know what you think

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Added on October 3, 2013
Last Updated on October 3, 2013
Tags: magic, creatures, short story, innocence, death, teen