Page 143 - 2023 eMag Final Draft
P. 143

While still aware of its observance, I turned a literal cold shoulder to the annoying
 giant, taking in my surroundings. In no time, I noticed the sheaf of paper under my   *
 feet, which helped cushion my fall and prevent a suicide. Inspecting it, my entire
 frame jolted, it was a design of a lamp, one that wouldn't constantly spew murky   We failed again, but that's okay.
 storms. More importantly, the design was similar to mine, but with some sprinkling
 of modifications, which was more than welcome, seeing as the product exploded   We failed again, but that's okay.
 just not long ago.
                                            We failed again, but that's okay.

 Of course, while I was minding my own business and keeping to myself, the curious
 giant was bombarding me with weird questions I didn't bother to answer. Where   We-
 did he think rivers come from? The call of nature was a strong knot between all.


 The amiable giant then showed me my original design which he adapted from,   A smattering of applause from the chimes in the wind.
 pointing out its pros and cons before asking to collaborate. Even while under a   The wandering smog mourned its hasbeen.
 fight-or-flight response, I had to admit his worth. Despite our differences, I would   Two globes of fire spell the coldness of frost.
 utilise all there was to create this lamp one way or another, for if I didn't, all shall   The broken bones to be buried, forever lost.
 step on earth charred, tarnished, dying withal.
 In any case, rejection due to discrimination ran counter to the code of this field. The

 spirit was to be upheld.
               Ah, to be looking at my greatest creation yet, my magnum opus. The spire of light,

 *             the tree of life, reconciliation born of innovation.


 Many-a-days had flown by, steady progress was made with yields of varying worth,   Clean, dirty, ugly. I realised, hand in hand, we were afraid of each other, the fire
 the mountain of faulty products the testament to our blood and tears.   burnt out.


 Yet, just mere moments ago a bunch of my pesky kinsmen were turning my re-  The bleak veil raised, restoring the unblemished shade of the wintry children, the
 search partner into a popsicle. Those fools blinded by hatred were begging to be   canvas white once more, two hands upon the same brush, the painting perfected

 punished, a friend is a friend. In the end, there were unfortunately spoiled beans in   forevermore, ad infinitum.
 every group.


 Nevertheless, pelted with stone or coal, perseverance was needed.   *
















 142                                                                                                          143
   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146   147   148