30 May 2009

Remember this? Meet part three.


Blue waves lapped against the calm, serene beach and generated an atmosphere of peace. The waves hugged an island that had remained untouched for what seemed decades, and the absence of human influence was obviously apparent. Lush forests and bountiful life flourished on the mass of ancient, volcanic rock, and everything about the place suggested an attitude of freedom and vitality.
A seagull drifted lazily along the swells of the warm breeze, and it scanned the ground below it for signs of anything remotely interesting or edible. It had almost completely circled the island once, just about ready to give up hope, when its black beady eyes saw something motionless on the sand. Whatever it was, it looked dead and ragged, sprawled out within the zone of the tide.
The bird zoomed down in spirals towards its target, and as it glided towards it in anticipation the shape of a figure began to come into view. The figure looked unlike anything else the bird had ever seen before, in terms of shape, color, and what the figure grasped in its hands. However, this bird did not have a particularly stellar memory and none of these things remotely bothered the bird at all. Right now the curiosity of the creature overrode any semblance of reason the bird possessed.
Just as the bird hopped closer and was about to peck at the lifeless mass on the beach, a loud eruption of noise ripped through the tranquility of the island and before the bird knew what had happened, it was dead.
A man walked out of the surf of the ocean as water dripped from his entire body. He acted nonchalantly and strode forward with purpose, as if for him walking through water was analogous to striding on land. His attire stood out in sharp contrast with everything around him, with his floppy, brown hat and oversized coat that made him look strange and out of place. The lifeless, arid desert seemed like it would be a more fitting place for a man such as this, than the rich island which he now stood on.
There was a slight trail of smoke which emitted from within his jacket, something which was odd considering that he was soaked thoroughly with water and smoke seemed like one of the last things to come forth from his coat.
The water had begun to rise slightly as the man made his way towards the figure that lied on the beach, and it lapped at his ankles in a way that was almost playful. He sighed when he looked down on the lifeless figure, and could not help but let a slight smile creep onto his normally stoic face. She was still beautiful, the woman who was now slightly submerged in the sand, and her face shone in the light of the sun. Her red dress clung to her body, damp from the ocean and its never-ending waves. Clutched in her hands was a long object wrapped in rough, beige cloth.
Gently the man reached down and picked up both the woman and the mysterious object, and together they made their way into the forest.


For whatever reason, I find the death of the seagull, in all its abruptness, hilarious.

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