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Fictional Writings of Elleander Grey


  • The two found themselves back in the city as dawn approached. Elleander rose up slowly, creaking like an oak tree to stand on the edge of the curb. He noticed Dillon looking at him strangely. He thought to himself. “You are alive, but do you ever feel any pain? It wouldn't do any good though. But you. You fuck. I see stars and I see flowers, the blue skies and the storm ahead. Fuck it, you only live once.” Elleander started walking down the street staring down at his feat. “So eat up those rations, screw the storm, screw the boat, who needs it; I can swim. My lungs are filled with reds and blues that swarm at me. They're locusts in the air.” Dillon chased after Elleander, awkwardly running down the sidewalk to keep up. Elleander forgot his friend and began to walk faster almost running and murmured. “Good luck.” It was the exact term to describe something that he could not put into words. He knew the response it would illicit from the other person, and he knew they would not find time to think of him. Ultimately he said it because he did not wish that person harm, nor did he wish that person happiness. Elleander understood how people enjoyed latching on to him, and now he did not wish to offer them the chance. By convincing himself that no one cared, as he himself did not, he was able to make people understand him. He had already come to the conclusion that he did not have the capacity to describe his feelings. It made the situation worse. Something hadn’t happened yet he told himself. The detriment was finally becoming evident in his physical movement. Even the way he tied his shoelaces slowly became a hate for necessary trivialness, it wrapped his every thought. Meanwhile, Elleander decided to think. “He gets up to work, work the day, you don’t look behind, don’t become the pillar of salt, to be licked by the horses of time, are there four of them, no too many, wake up, and give me a pinch of it. He looks back to see. Lines and figures wrinkle backward and scream at him. They pass so fast even when you pass so slowly. He can feel it on his skin, the smoothness of it all. And he wants me to bathe in the soft milk, I’ll try not to churn the cream to butter. But if you are going to spread me out spread me out thin. I want to be stretched, please eat me.” Elleander ran.
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