ur Floating Thoughts #16 (by Aman): Being Sad

Author: Novus Lectio

Title:  

Genre: Short Story


 

He held the pen with awe and admiration. It was a legend in the brotherhood, it held memories worthy to kill for. Now that it was in his possession he could write his own destiny. But for the pen to be his, he needs to get rid of the legitimate owner first. A smile crept across his ugly face. In the meantime, he also needs to flee to a more secure location. He went out of the room and crossed the patio carefully not to be seen. But he didn’t know that his fate was sealed from the moment he stepped out of the room with the pen in his left hand.
It was almost dark outside, a tall figure could have been seen trying to make its way into the main hall. The hard part was done according to him, he needed a few more steps and he would be outside. He was halfway to the door when he felt a pain in his chest. He screamed placing his right hand on his heart. He stopped short expecting someone to rush into the hall. But a silence of death surrounded him. He was a few steps away from the door, but he didn’t dare to move. He felt the change, something was not right. He could feel the air cooling, the sound of his breath was louder than the night’s whispers. He looked at The Pen still in his left hand, and there he understood it all. The magical ink was getting into him, turning his blood into ink. He tried to throw the pen, but his hand wouldn’t open. His heart beat faster, the sudden freezing air was burning his lungs, he ran for the door, as soon as he touched the door handle with his right hand, the cold burning sensation made him scream even louder. He couldn’t take his hand off the door as it was too freezing for that.

Too late…

The power of the Pen was more than he could handle. It was using his blood to destroy him. He couldn’t feel his body anymore. The ink was poisoning his heart and brain while the cold was freezing the entire hall. He screamed for help the last time before falling into an eternal sleep, while the Pen used his last drop of blood to write his Master’s destiny.

 


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Author: Novus Lectio

Title:  

Genre: Short Story


 

He held the pen with awe and admiration. It was a legend in the brotherhood, it held memories worthy to kill for. Now that it was in his possession he could write his own destiny. But for the pen to be his, he needs to get rid of the legitimate owner first. A smile crept across his ugly face. In the meantime, he also needs to flee to a more secure location. He went out of the room and crossed the patio carefully not to be seen. But he didn’t know that his fate was sealed from the moment he stepped out of the room with the pen in his left hand.
It was almost dark outside, a tall figure could have been seen trying to make its way into the main hall. The hard part was done according to him, he needed a few more steps and he would be outside. He was halfway to the door when he felt a pain in his chest. He screamed placing his right hand on his heart. He stopped short expecting someone to rush into the hall. But a silence of death surrounded him. He was a few steps away from the door, but he didn’t dare to move. He felt the change, something was not right. He could feel the air cooling, the sound of his breath was louder than the night’s whispers. He looked at The Pen still in his left hand, and there he understood it all. The magical ink was getting into him, turning his blood into ink. He tried to throw the pen, but his hand wouldn’t open. His heart beat faster, the sudden freezing air was burning his lungs, he ran for the door, as soon as he touched the door handle with his right hand, the cold burning sensation made him scream even louder. He couldn’t take his hand off the door as it was too freezing for that.

Too late…

The power of the Pen was more than he could handle. It was using his blood to destroy him. He couldn’t feel his body anymore. The ink was poisoning his heart and brain while the cold was freezing the entire hall. He screamed for help the last time before falling into an eternal sleep, while the Pen used his last drop of blood to write his Master’s destiny.

 


GUEST SUBMISSIONS

If you wish to share your stories, please submit your writings here
or mail us at dfloatingthoughts@gmail.com


INCASE YOU WISH TO READ MORE ARTICLES FROM THE FLOATING THOUGHTS

THE UNTOLD SCRIBBLES – Short Stories – Poetry – Guest Submissions – Travelogues – SoulTalks – Fairy Tale Series


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Author: Aman Tiwary
(
follow Aman on Facebook)

Title: Being Sad

Genre: Poetry


 Seizures of reflections of the self,
Remind me that I am dying
For every silhouette of my soul cast upon this plebian earth
Gives me an impression, that I am lying….

Old clicks of yesteryears make me feel alive
The naïve face, the taut body, the thick hairline and the smile
The nostalgia of being happy in those times
Lets me believe that I am literally crying….

Life is a machination, a manoeuvre I can’t circumvent
I gain respite from it by being glaringly penitent
Catch it, take hold of it, it isn’t only a number
I want to incarcerate time it is indeed but flying…

What’s my name, who am I, where am I supposed to go?
These introspect the inner sad, to expose the incognito
The search of the self, the urge of the pelf, to empower the soul
Puts the blatant blame on I; hey you are spying…

The void of someone is filled by none, in-definition redefined
With this pain, this tribulation, peace is arduous to find.
Life throwing its sarcasm in an indiscriminate barrage leaves me sad
And then you ask me “Why the hell are you sighing?”

Being sad, I accept not to smile with an open heart
The celebration of the grief of losing myself is not lesser an art
Making mortals my judges, giving them the power to decide
I am fighting not with them, it’s a self-conciliation I am vying…

 


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or mail us at dfloatingthoughts@gmail.com


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9 comments

  1. Loved it 👍
    This search of self seems never-ending to me but then I feel Life must go on & one day I may find out why was I even created 🤔

    Liked by 1 person

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