Friday, 9 March 2007
10:23:35 PM (GMT)
This is just something I started awhile back.
Sort of bleh.
Just an introduction to the story I'm writing now.
Don't kill yourself reading.
A girl sat beneath the crimson shadow cast from the aging maple, her lanky legs
covering the park bench on which she sat. Wrought iron armrests jabbed her in the
back, although she seemed not to notice. One leg was crossed over the other, her
clunky black leather boots shining in the filtered autumn light. Her heavily-lined
black eyes darted from side to side, sweeping the endless sea of similar bodies
moving in a crush towards the same destination. She shook her head in disgust and
turned her head forward, ruffling the few loose strands of greenish hair that had
fallen into her pale face.
“Yet another ordinary day…” she said, flicking the grey ashes from the tip of
a nearly burnt-out cigarette. She stuck it back in her mouth, inhaling the acrid
smoke and exhaling it in thick plumes through her nose. The smoke stung at her
nostrils, causing her to wrinkle her nose in discomfort. She coughed and threw the
butt into the crowd of people, watching as the last flicker of red was stomped out by
one of millions of shining black shoes. She sighed and threw her legs over the top
of the bench, dangling her head close to the ground. Her black top hat sat beneath
the bench, blending seamlessly into the shadows. The three white skulls pins clipped
to the purple ribbon tied around the centre sparkled in the dappled light, a
mischievous glint in their ivory eyes. She let out another breath of air, blowing
the remaining strands of her hair off her face. She crossed her arms over her chest,
watching the sea of legs pass before her.
The people before her wore the same clothing, carried the same items, walked the
same steps. A black business coat, black briefcase, black shoes, black black black!
The girl, on the other hand, wore many colours, from green to purple to white to the
touches of gold throughout her wardrobe. Her shoulder-length hair in itself was
enough to separate her from anyone within the throng of people. Its acidic green hue
and inhuman tendency to sparkle in even the slightest flicker of light caused her to
hide it beneath her top hat in most situations.
But hiding her hair only caused her to stand out in her clothing. Black and
white-striped armlets clung tight up to her elbows; the tops brushed buy the
loose-fitting hem of fishnet. A tattered cream shirt was visible just beneath the
fishnet, a few rips at the hem snaking up into the main portion of her shirt, but
none too revealing. A pure white skirt sat neatly on her thighs, clinging to her
hips with the aid of a bulky belt composed of what appeared to be golden Christmas
tree balls engraved with ornate insignias. Each one jangled with crystal-clear
harmony as the girl shifted her thin frame back to a normal sitting position. Green
and purple-striped stockings were swallowed at the knee by the cuff of gargantuan
black leather boots that heightened the girl, already standing five foot ten, by four
inches. A small but breathtaking diamond-encrusted cross pendant was clasped to a
thick leather choker set high on the girl’s tall neck. A few other meaningless
necklaces draped over her collarbone, clinking together as she moved. A single
strand of onyx and quartz beads was wrapped seven times around her left wrist,
completing her bizarre, yet oddly stunning attire.
Even this circus-like outfit wasn’t enough to draw the attention of the many
passerbies. The girl could swear that she saw one person cast a spiteful glance in
her direction, but more likely was the chance that it was just a coincidence that she
had been in the way of the ground, the place where all of the downcast eyes seem to
focus. The girl picked up her hat from beneath the bench and brushed the brim off,
throwing a few clinging specks flying into the charge. She placed it atop her head
and sighed, scooping up a black parasol that had sat just behind her top hat. With a
casual flick of the wrist, she opened the parasol, spreading its black-ribbed shield
over her head. She stepped into the crowd to be swept away to wherever they were
bound, her belt clinking merrily as she walked, fading to nothingness as she
furthered herself from the bench.
No one replaced her on the bench, all too busy to pause and adore the simple beauty
of the crimson maple tree, fading ever-faster into the bleak world surrounding it.
Its leaves, once brilliant red, were already fading, the vibrant hue consumed by
monochromatic waves, grey cloud creeping through coloured streaks of sky, claiming
what seemed to be the last bit of colour left in the world. No one took notice of
the fading tree, not even as a crimson leaf floated to the concrete sidewalk below,
only to be trampled grey. No one noticed as the last leaf fell from the tree,
completing its metamorphosis into just another grey tree, another lifeless landmark
on a barren landscape.