Author: Immy's Ink PM
Rewrite of a piece I created in highschool. Original concept is the same, just redesigned with a new edge, better vocab, different take on the characters, setting, genre & a diffrent perspective for me. I am very pleased with it. Please read & review.Rated: Fiction T - English - Sci-Fi/Angst - Words: 624 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 1 - Published: 02-04-08 - Status: Complete - id: 2471634
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Revolution: earth & sun - the action by a heavenly body of going round in an orbit
Revolution: cycle - a series of events that happen again and again regularly and usually lead back to the starting point
Revolution: rebellion - a sudden, extreme, or complete change
The back of his arm came up to wipe the beads of sweat from his brow as the man beside him slumped to the dirt and rocks. Stopping to observe the fallen man, unheeded advice slipped through his lips. "You better get back up and moving or They'll come for you." The man didn't move. "Get up. I'm not doing your work today." Still not a muscle twitched. From the corner of his eye he saw Them coming. "It's your grave you're digging," he muttered, seemingly to himself, as he quickly resumed working.
He continued to watch as They attempted to rouse the fallen man. They screamed, cursed and kicked, yet he remained oblivious, sprawled on the unforgiving earth.
"No one sleeps on the job if I have anything to do with it!" the pudgy one of the group bellowed for all to hear. "Tie It up and let the others watch. Won't see laziness after this!"
The man was still unconscious as the coarsely weaved, metal twine was flung out. The howl was deafening as it lashed across his exposed flesh, bring him back into stark reality.
"I can't take much more of this," was the observer's only thought as he winced in remembered pain.
A chirping first awoke him. Dew on the tree leaves glistened in the new morning light catching his eye. He smiled, closed his eyes once more and imagined he was home.
The sound of voices disrupted this peaceful dream, causing him to stir and quickly ascended the tree, disappearing from view. The voices crept closer. Soon They appeared in the clearing. He observed the pudgy one gesture frantically, unable to distinguish the voices as words. Within moments They disappeared in different directions.
He waited patiently, high above the strange terrain until that great sphere of light had moved significantly in the wide expanse of cerulean. They had been too close. It was now or never. Resolved, he cautiously climbed down the tree and took off across the soft, silent grass, unsure of his next destination in this foreign land. Part way he stopped and eyed his surroundings warily. A gust of stale air invaded his sensitive nose. Something felt wrong. An explosion off to the right and flash in his peripheral vision were his only warning before he tumbled backwards to the ground.
The oppressive, harsh rays of the sun beat down on him. He stared up at it and wished it would go away. It wouldn't though. It would stay up there, right in the middle of the sky. He used to love the sun. Now he hates it.