18 Aug A Short Story: Potently Abstract.

*This story is entirely a work of fiction.*

The street signs were dented, making the signs awkward. A fork in the road ahead, a knife formed, to cut the land, amidst danger amongst the walking dead.

Abstract leafs attached to a notebook written in special poetry confused the speculative onlookers, when asked which direction, misdirection to those that were incapable of comprehension.

A smart man decided to pay attention, listening to the sounds of the wind carving through the hollow fields… grave stones, if I ever threw a stone it was at myself.

Walking with ample contemplations, rough drafts emerged, none of which I found that promising, hops and water poured as drafts from a hypothetical fountain… drinking… sipping, I closed my eyes to find time to remember.

That remembrance was a hindrance at that particular time into what I felt like thinking about.

The lust for creating the most abstract story, woven with anecdotes and antidotes, to ensure the closest haters had enough content to pull out of context.

Delighted with the idea, I continued to ponder, a few laps around a pond.

My levels of intelligence presented a new array of immaculate information capable of being deciphered only by incredible minds, where idleness was forever left behind.

Loyalty was in a drought, when confronted with potential for royalty; I removed my hereditary spiritual DNA from that ideology… and voyaged to a new area; pristine dreams.

Weeping laughs exhausted from the minds of people incapable of critical thinking. It’s expensive to think here, I told them, and you probably couldn’t afford it.

Angered with their lack of privilege that they thought to carry around like a badge, the weeps turned to ghoulish moans.

Unafraid and unbothered, I continued on my journey.

A tattoo on my arm inscribed with, ‘heavenly entitled.’

The moral of the story grew closer with each step that I took into the unknown.

I retroactively removed passes from the fake and rightfully returned them to the real.

Souls detangled into their proper threads.

I yawned from the lack of effort required to do so.

Stamina pronounced differently.

Hierarchy hired to do so… higher as well.

The ground moved like platonic shifts. Shifts covered as a budgeted expense. The exfoliation threw hibernation into a hiatus… cautious however.

Submerged with heavy philosophy… the walk seemed increasingly burdensome…

Until,

I saw a beautiful woman emerge in the distance, fully clothed, yet naked, I found this to be different; her soul spoke many different languages, none of which were spoken with alphabetical arrangement. The vibrations looked like magnetic streams, a wavelength field.

The woman had a smile that was accented with her luscious lips… slipping into the abyss, hibiscus tea; she decided to wander with me.

The clouds moved like a conveyer belt, Orion’s hindsight gave hints to the next direction.

Life lessons learned in the toughest ways gives sight to observation.

My syllables and words snapped into the right combination of sentences, capable of infiltrating even the most blind of minds, pain stricken, or obviously diminished or obnoxiously depleted; repeat it.