 so lay me down in golden dandelions
There was a part of him who thought, even as the island began to buckle and fill with water, of the beauty of the flowers. It was the magic he knew, pervading his mind and overwhelming his senses like a drug. For a moment he doesn’t see the way the world around him seems to be fracturing, the way the color is being drained out like watercolor. All he sees is the flower, with its long, black petals and the starburst of vibrant blue at its center. Five slender filaments wave gently in the breeze, as if reaching out for him. Ipomoea leans in closer, and his heart is beating in time with the island now, a wild thing inside of his chest that runs and runs and runs like a rabbit from a wolf. It’s yelling at him, his blood is screaming at him, and he know it’s time to go. But still, but still he takes just a little more time to admire the island in all its fierce beauty. When the waves finally reach him it feels like ice water around his hooves, and at last he stirs. Against his better judgement, despite the part of him that is begging him to flee, he lunges forward and wraps his teeth around the stalk of the flower. With a deft twist of his head he pulls the plant out by its roots, shaking the sand and soil loose. And only then does he turn and head for the bridge, that twists like a snake above the ocean. As chunks of it fall out from beneath him he races the wind itself, faster and faster until at last he reaches the other end. And there he collapses in the sand, and when he lifts his head over his shoulder he watches as the world itself begins to sink. |
STAFF EDIT***
@Ipomoea has rolled a 5! They have been awarded +350 signos.
