literature

Placid Facade-Prologue

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Cruel-Humor's avatar
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Literature Text

  A large figure sat in a large brown leather recliner, his face hidden in the shadows. He appeared to be reading some type of literature. No. As I took a closer look at it, I recognize it as a scrapbook. The figure shook slightly as he flipped to a page. I looked over his shoulder, glancing at the photograph. Three teenagers sat at a fast food booth, smiling and laughing. They wore full military uniform. I now knew the identity of the silhouette sitting in the antique chair. I now knew what the shaking was. I felt it myself as a salty tear fell to the ground. More and more start to fall as I kneel to the ground. The silhouette put a callous hand on my bare shoulder. Its mouth did not appear to move, but the words "it'll be okay" resonated from the orifice. It closed the scrapbook and pointed to a nice, shiny cane.
  I looked at him strangely. I was not a feeble senior citizen. I was a strong, able-bodied man! I refused the offer, but the figure stood its ground. I grumbled as I stood up and walked to the cane. However, something odd happened as I walked to the cane. I found my head lifted higher, my strides smoother. When I stood at the cane's pedestal, I felt invincible. This was odd. I was going to grab a tool used by the worn out and ancient to stand up! Why would I be even remotely proud? I gingerly touched the cane. It was smooth and warm to the touch. I enjoyed it. I grabbed the cane's handle and slowly lifted it off of the pedestal. Perhaps I could use a cane. Especially this one. The curve of the handle felt hand-crafted, and made specifically for me.
  I took a few steps, using the cane. As I used it, I realized that this cane wasn't made to be used when my knee went bad in about twenty years. There was a deeper meaning to it than that. This cane was going to be used to cheer me on when I saw victory, to cheer me up when I saw defeat. This cane symbolized help. The good feeling when approaching the cane wasn't supernatural. It was me admitting I needed help. I felt good to relieve that stress from my body. I smiled and glanced at the silhouette's chair. He was nowhere to be seen, however. The room grew dark as I felt chills run down my spine. The cold was paralyzing, and caused me to drop the cane. I heard the wood hit the tiles on the floor. As the room faded to black, the echo of the cane turned into the ringing of an alarm clock.
I decided a first-person narrative was the best way to tackle this series. Tell me how you like it. c:
© 2013 - 2024 Cruel-Humor
Comments2
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AgentBlackBlood's avatar
Wow, I must say. I am impressed! The way you made that cane feel and how it dropped, it's all so powerful. Makes me want to have a cane of my own.