Alfred’s anger bubbled into a giggle that couldn’t suit a grown man; it was high-pitched even for a child. For the briefest moments vertical trunks of trees imposed themselves over the lavish ballroom. Then before they could come into true focus, the tree flattened and contorted into boards. The boards connected making the walls of a tavern, a familiar one; the Silver Sliver.
Elaine sat in a chair, a cup settled before her as she waited for lunch. Her hands folded neatly in her lap, she was once again in her human body though this time it had not aged. She was still young and beautiful but decidedly human. Her left hand scarred angry and red, stared back at up her with the burn marks of her past. Her right hand didn’t drip but like a shield kept it in place remained wet with sticky sanguine fluid. She never left a trail on anything she touched but she could feel the blood continuously coagulating and re-hydrating on the surface of her palm.
Clyde sat across from her at the table, very busily ignoring his mug. His nose shoved in a book as he studied an archaic theory which few could even read let alone put into practice. He was a remarkable individual not only in his persistence but his starkness. “Elaine, it is time to make a choice. I will not put up with this indecision any longer, it's lazy.” He didn’t hardly look up from the book at her.
A literal question mark birthed itself into existence in the air behind him. Then another. And Another. And yet more and more came to be until the space around them was obscured by these ink-splotched question marks all vying for space. The tavern all but disappeared except for their table and chairs. The marks crawled along the floor beneath their feet.
Finally he glanced up from his volume, “Are you going to stare in silence or answer? I do not have time for people who don’t know their own thoughts.” The answer of course, could not come easy. What was the Question? The overwhelming Question just out of reach but haunting the possessor, forcing her through these charades and tests. The Question remained ever elusive, only the shadow of a thing dissipating before eyes like too much sunlight. “Answer me or leave.” He demanded.
Elaine sat in a chair, a cup settled before her as she waited for lunch. Her hands folded neatly in her lap, she was once again in her human body though this time it had not aged. She was still young and beautiful but decidedly human. Her left hand scarred angry and red, stared back at up her with the burn marks of her past. Her right hand didn’t drip but like a shield kept it in place remained wet with sticky sanguine fluid. She never left a trail on anything she touched but she could feel the blood continuously coagulating and re-hydrating on the surface of her palm.
Clyde sat across from her at the table, very busily ignoring his mug. His nose shoved in a book as he studied an archaic theory which few could even read let alone put into practice. He was a remarkable individual not only in his persistence but his starkness. “Elaine, it is time to make a choice. I will not put up with this indecision any longer, it's lazy.” He didn’t hardly look up from the book at her.
A literal question mark birthed itself into existence in the air behind him. Then another. And Another. And yet more and more came to be until the space around them was obscured by these ink-splotched question marks all vying for space. The tavern all but disappeared except for their table and chairs. The marks crawled along the floor beneath their feet.
Finally he glanced up from his volume, “Are you going to stare in silence or answer? I do not have time for people who don’t know their own thoughts.” The answer of course, could not come easy. What was the Question? The overwhelming Question just out of reach but haunting the possessor, forcing her through these charades and tests. The Question remained ever elusive, only the shadow of a thing dissipating before eyes like too much sunlight. “Answer me or leave.” He demanded.
