Status: GeneCo, cleaning up the streets since 2030!
Drawn by the Glow
Child's Play
You play, you win
The first few months of her father's departure she found his liquor cabinets. At first, it was a taste that made her tongue squirm. Shilo hated it, honestly. Over time though it started to taste sweeter and not as harsh on the throat.
The only reason she forced herself to drink it was to fill the time. To live in a different head setting. It also made her feel a little closer to her father's ghost in the house. Shlilo tended to stay in her room, but when the whites of her walls burn her mind with boredom she'd wonder out. Even though she was a little scared of finding anything. Especially her father's possessions.
Drinking wines of reds and whites used to make the pressure in her brain go away. She quit drinking though once it lost it's fun. Used it to get lost in the crowds of her mind. Whiskeys and rums. She miss painting her skies with liquids that questioned her age. It left her feeling so vacant and translucent thst she lacked meaning. In those times this was her favorite emotion.
From her bed she moved to the bench by what her bug collection used to be. She stared at the broken wings before pushing them into lines that formed a maze. Looking at the maze she imagined a labyrinth full of puzzles and tricks.
Maybe it was time to leave. If only for a second.
A spider on the wall crawled closer in a daring manner. She leaned her nose in it's direction to get a better look in order to determine it's breed. Spotting a pen, she placed it near him so he could climb on top. She watched the spider make it's web from the tip of her pen and hurriedly lower. Whenever it got too close to the floor Shilo would find higher grounds. Such as the chair, the bed, the desk.
After a while she sighed bored with the game then let the critter go. On eight legs, the spider ran into the corner and back up the wall. Shilo's eyes stopped following it to go jump on her bed.
You play, you win.
Her mind was plagued by four emerald green words. The basket sat still covered with the paisley table scrap untouched, and it had been two weeks since it had arrived. Ever since she opened that door her mind had been busied with new ideas. New conclusions sprang up as time ran out. The renaissance happened in a week or so.
There were no culprits in mind, yet that didn't mean she hadn't thought of whys. The intentions were all she was worried over. After locking herself inside her home for nearly a year she couldn't think of a soul who would knock on her door. Outside did scare her, but maybe this was worth the freight.
Quickly, she sat up straight on her bed facing the basket. Maybe it was food. She ran out of instant foods two mornings ago, and knew she'd have to leave soon. Leave soon or starve. No, she thought, if it were food it would have been gross and rotten. From the distance there were no particularly unpleasant smells coming from the basket.
"Okay," she stood then approached the antique. " I can only wish for a box of macaroni. "
As soon as she pulled back the fabric concealing her present a song rung loudly throughout the room. By the first note her heart at the top tore. It was a beautiful music box as big as the basket. The top of it had popped open and there stood, three and a half inches tall, Blind Mag. Swinging in a circle.
Shilo's breathe became lighter as tears ran down her cheeks. A few rained down upon the singing lady. She lifted the heavy music box and placed it on her desk. Sitting at her bench, she studied the sides. There were swirls of dirty silver that shined like bubbles wrapped around jewels.
The dress Mag wore was the one Shilo recognized from four festivals ago when she sang at the renaissance. Besides the music skipping a few notes and slight rust, it was perfect. It filled the silence that had laid like dust on top of everything.
The notes swayed to a stop as Blind Mag slowed her spinning. She closed the box lightly kissing it with her finger tips. She had then made up her mind. It was time to leave.
The first few months of her father's departure she found his liquor cabinets. At first, it was a taste that made her tongue squirm. Shilo hated it, honestly. Over time though it started to taste sweeter and not as harsh on the throat.
The only reason she forced herself to drink it was to fill the time. To live in a different head setting. It also made her feel a little closer to her father's ghost in the house. Shlilo tended to stay in her room, but when the whites of her walls burn her mind with boredom she'd wonder out. Even though she was a little scared of finding anything. Especially her father's possessions.
Drinking wines of reds and whites used to make the pressure in her brain go away. She quit drinking though once it lost it's fun. Used it to get lost in the crowds of her mind. Whiskeys and rums. She miss painting her skies with liquids that questioned her age. It left her feeling so vacant and translucent thst she lacked meaning. In those times this was her favorite emotion.
From her bed she moved to the bench by what her bug collection used to be. She stared at the broken wings before pushing them into lines that formed a maze. Looking at the maze she imagined a labyrinth full of puzzles and tricks.
Maybe it was time to leave. If only for a second.
A spider on the wall crawled closer in a daring manner. She leaned her nose in it's direction to get a better look in order to determine it's breed. Spotting a pen, she placed it near him so he could climb on top. She watched the spider make it's web from the tip of her pen and hurriedly lower. Whenever it got too close to the floor Shilo would find higher grounds. Such as the chair, the bed, the desk.
After a while she sighed bored with the game then let the critter go. On eight legs, the spider ran into the corner and back up the wall. Shilo's eyes stopped following it to go jump on her bed.
You play, you win.
Her mind was plagued by four emerald green words. The basket sat still covered with the paisley table scrap untouched, and it had been two weeks since it had arrived. Ever since she opened that door her mind had been busied with new ideas. New conclusions sprang up as time ran out. The renaissance happened in a week or so.
There were no culprits in mind, yet that didn't mean she hadn't thought of whys. The intentions were all she was worried over. After locking herself inside her home for nearly a year she couldn't think of a soul who would knock on her door. Outside did scare her, but maybe this was worth the freight.
Quickly, she sat up straight on her bed facing the basket. Maybe it was food. She ran out of instant foods two mornings ago, and knew she'd have to leave soon. Leave soon or starve. No, she thought, if it were food it would have been gross and rotten. From the distance there were no particularly unpleasant smells coming from the basket.
"Okay," she stood then approached the antique. " I can only wish for a box of macaroni. "
As soon as she pulled back the fabric concealing her present a song rung loudly throughout the room. By the first note her heart at the top tore. It was a beautiful music box as big as the basket. The top of it had popped open and there stood, three and a half inches tall, Blind Mag. Swinging in a circle.
Shilo's breathe became lighter as tears ran down her cheeks. A few rained down upon the singing lady. She lifted the heavy music box and placed it on her desk. Sitting at her bench, she studied the sides. There were swirls of dirty silver that shined like bubbles wrapped around jewels.
The dress Mag wore was the one Shilo recognized from four festivals ago when she sang at the renaissance. Besides the music skipping a few notes and slight rust, it was perfect. It filled the silence that had laid like dust on top of everything.
The notes swayed to a stop as Blind Mag slowed her spinning. She closed the box lightly kissing it with her finger tips. She had then made up her mind. It was time to leave.