126 lines
6.3 KiB
Plaintext
126 lines
6.3 KiB
Plaintext
[--------------------------------------------------------------------------]
|
|
ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #507
|
|
`888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8
|
|
888 888 888 888 888 "Oli"
|
|
888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8
|
|
888 888 888 888 888 " by Isaac
|
|
888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 3/8/99
|
|
o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
|
|
[--------------------------------------------------------------------------]
|
|
|
|
The King is a young, pale man. He has thin, light, white hair and
|
|
can never seem to hold his head up straight. It is always resting on his
|
|
shoulder while he simply gazes into nothing with an always odd smirk or a
|
|
frown fighting off a laugh. His face is shadowed by the soft blue light
|
|
from a small slit in a castle wall behind him, illumniating the back of
|
|
his head and the centre of the castle floor. The air is old, dry, dusty
|
|
and can be seen swirling in the light. The King sighs, taking the air in
|
|
his nose and letting it out in a tired moan.
|
|
|
|
His thrown is a very old black wooden chair with a brown weaved
|
|
back and supported by carved paws. Truely, he loves his chair and thinks
|
|
fondly of it while he sits on it motionless. When ever he moves it
|
|
creaks. He dislikes its creaking, especially when there are people in the
|
|
chamber with him and the creaking imbarrasses him, as if his chair is of
|
|
low quality. He wears a poor dusty red robe draped over his body with one
|
|
golden line circling the bottom near his shoeless feet poking out under
|
|
the robe. When he talks it is as if he is calling out for something in
|
|
his sleep. His voice is very soft and fleeting.
|
|
|
|
"Oli," the King calls out, summoning his servent.
|
|
|
|
"I am here," Oli says annoyed, as he steps out of the shadows.
|
|
|
|
"Oh, ah, yes, you are are," the King says and lets out a little
|
|
laugh or cough.
|
|
|
|
The King stares at Oli for awhile with an small smile like he is a
|
|
baby on traquilizers.
|
|
|
|
Oli is bald and has stoic hairless face. His skin is greyish white
|
|
and soft and his body is covered with an over sized pale brown robe. He
|
|
is a tall man, with large shoeless feet and long hands. His nose is wider
|
|
and flatter then the King's.
|
|
|
|
"Oli, food would be nice," the King says, "bread? water?... have
|
|
you any?"
|
|
|
|
Oli explains, "Please, stop being a fool. I am not your servent.
|
|
And we are not in a castle." He gives up, though, and sighs. Oli walks
|
|
to the passage way and lifts up the cloth door of there stone hut and
|
|
crotches slightly to exit to the sandy barren outside.
|
|
|
|
The King smiles and his drifting eyes settle on the floor. He is
|
|
gripped with a message from his inner being that telling him he needs to
|
|
fill his stomach.
|
|
|
|
"With dirt, perhaps?" he whispers softly to himself, "Leave me
|
|
alone, at least now. I have been dead already for so long. Do you
|
|
understand this? No. Of course you don't. You are even more dead then
|
|
I am. Was I ever alive?"
|
|
|
|
The King brings his fingers to his lips and slowly licks them.
|
|
|
|
"I still love you, though," he thinks to himself. He closes his
|
|
eyes.
|
|
|
|
Oli's eyes blink and squint to block the sun and the sand as he
|
|
scans the horizon and wonders forward. The only sound is his bare feet
|
|
against the fine sand. He remembers for a moment how his mind used to
|
|
buzz with things in his youth, now it gently moves along like a little
|
|
stream of water. The sun slowly goes down and he feels he has wondered
|
|
enough. He spots a tree and rests under it with his legs crossed one of
|
|
the other as he always sits to meditate or relax.
|
|
|
|
Unexpectedly he senses movements on the other side of the tree.
|
|
A rather old, unclothed women walks out. Her skin and appearence is the
|
|
same as Oli's. Oli says nothing, and takes her hand lightly in his and
|
|
smells her chest. She smiles a little and only follows him with her
|
|
eyes. Oli takes in a breath of delight and awe. They lay together and
|
|
ambrace each other and sleep.
|
|
|
|
When Oli awakes, the old women is gone, but Oli feels rather nice
|
|
about it all. He picks himself up and decides to walk home and tell his
|
|
friend, the white haired man, about the women. Oli feels strange,
|
|
though, as he thinks.
|
|
|
|
"I am calling that place my home now? And that white haired
|
|
object my friend?"
|
|
|
|
He begins to remember and take confort in memories of his childhood
|
|
and his first home. He also remembers one small girl who would push him
|
|
down and run violently giggling and he would also laugh but wonder why he
|
|
was not able to defend himself against her. She was his only friend,
|
|
once. Just as the King is now his only friend.
|
|
|
|
When Oli arrived at home, the Sun was high in the sky and he was
|
|
happy to finally be escaping it under the roof of the hut. The King was
|
|
sleeping in his beloved chair. Oli tried to wake the King by gently
|
|
shaking his shoulder. The chair creeked.
|
|
|
|
"I have new stories of the outside to tell you," Oli recalled how
|
|
much the King loved to hear stories, especially new stories. It would be
|
|
a good day for him.
|
|
|
|
Oli noticed the Kings chin and lips had some sand on it.
|
|
|
|
Oli paused for awhile and stood there motionless, blinking, and
|
|
staring at the King. To brake the stillness Oli made one last effort to
|
|
wake him by shaking him very violently. The Kings head drifted and his
|
|
body slowly slipped awhile from Oli and tilted the chair over. The chair
|
|
fell over and the Kings face hit the stone floor with a smacking sound
|
|
and the chair hit it with a cracking sound. Oli stayed motionless. All
|
|
he could do was stare.
|
|
|
|
After awhile it occurred to him that he should move the King out
|
|
of his home before he started to stink it up and make it more of a mess
|
|
then it already was. He dragged him by his feet out of and around the hut
|
|
and over sand dune. Oli let go and the king roled and slid for awhile
|
|
down the dune and he just watched passively. Oli let out a single laugh
|
|
and remembered what a fool the King was. He walked off and went back
|
|
into his hut and sat against a wall in a more shaded corner and, after
|
|
some time of his quiet flowing stream of thought, fell asleep.
|
|
|
|
[--------------------------------------------------------------------------]
|
|
[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #507 - WRITTEN BY: ISAAC - 3/8/99 ]
|