03-04-2008, 02:46 PM
So there's this idea I've been kicking around my head for a few days, and when I got home tonight, I sat down at my computer and this is what came out:
PROLOGUE
The grass was green. That’s what stuck out at me, just how green it was. And not a simple dusty, well-manicured lawn sort of green, but a brilliant verdant that was so mesmerizing I was almost afraid to set foot upon it. I knew it wasn’t quite real – it was manufactured, just as the sky above wasn’t really blue… hell, wasn’t really a sky… but it too was a dazzling color that made me feel so humbled, so out-of-place, that I was almost ashamed of even being there.
He was sitting outside, the man I came to find, not on a throne or a pedestal, but on a simple wooden chair, and although the home behind him was impressive, it didn’t look as regal as one might expect. It was stone, at least three stories tall, and the door the man sat near was set into the wall of a room that bulged out of the side of the home, as though it were built around something. As I approached he took my measure, looking me up and down, and it was then more than any other time that I feared he would refuse to help me. Nobody looking at my pudgy frame and slight limp would think of me as a warrior, and they would be right. But believing that this man would deny me because I hadn’t spent time on the battlefield was an error in my estimation of him, not an error on his part.
“Welcome, friend,” he said, waving at me from his chair on the porch. Beside him was a small table, a jug of wine, and a goblet he took slow sips from.
“How do you know I’m a friend?” I asked.
“You are until you give me reason to believe otherwise,” he said. “Would you care to join me in a glass of wine? I can summon another goblet.”
“I’d be honored by that sir,” I said, extending my hand towards him. He took my hand, shook it, and told me his name – as if I needed to be told. He did not ask my name yet, but instead waved a hand, conjuring up a servant girl with a sweet smile and a grateful temperament.
“Another goblet, dear,” he said, “and some cakes for my friend and I.”
She shuffled off and soon returned with the goblet and a tray of rich pastries. Although I wasn’t particularly hungry, I ate anyway, not wanting to offend his hospitality. It was not until I consumed the first cake and drained my first glass of wine that my host ventured the obvious question.
“So, my friend,” he said, “We don’t see many visitors here. I hope you don’t believe me discourteous, but may I ask what brings you to my home?”
“Of course,” I said. “My name is Adam Solomon, sir, and I need help.”
“Do you now? Well, lad, advice will be yours freely given, but anything other than that…”
“Your advice alone would be an unbelievable gift, sir,” I said. “But before it’s over… I may feel compelled to ask for more.”
“I don’t do ‘more’ than that lad. Not for a long time. There is someone who has suffered quite enough because of years of doing ‘more’.”
“I know, sir. I know all about you. In fact, that’s why I came to find you. If anybody could understand why I have to do what I’m doing, it’s you.”
He nodded. “Is that so? Very well, son, you’ve drawn my curiosity, if nothing else. Go on. Tell me your tale.”
PROLOGUE
The grass was green. That’s what stuck out at me, just how green it was. And not a simple dusty, well-manicured lawn sort of green, but a brilliant verdant that was so mesmerizing I was almost afraid to set foot upon it. I knew it wasn’t quite real – it was manufactured, just as the sky above wasn’t really blue… hell, wasn’t really a sky… but it too was a dazzling color that made me feel so humbled, so out-of-place, that I was almost ashamed of even being there.
He was sitting outside, the man I came to find, not on a throne or a pedestal, but on a simple wooden chair, and although the home behind him was impressive, it didn’t look as regal as one might expect. It was stone, at least three stories tall, and the door the man sat near was set into the wall of a room that bulged out of the side of the home, as though it were built around something. As I approached he took my measure, looking me up and down, and it was then more than any other time that I feared he would refuse to help me. Nobody looking at my pudgy frame and slight limp would think of me as a warrior, and they would be right. But believing that this man would deny me because I hadn’t spent time on the battlefield was an error in my estimation of him, not an error on his part.
“Welcome, friend,” he said, waving at me from his chair on the porch. Beside him was a small table, a jug of wine, and a goblet he took slow sips from.
“How do you know I’m a friend?” I asked.
“You are until you give me reason to believe otherwise,” he said. “Would you care to join me in a glass of wine? I can summon another goblet.”
“I’d be honored by that sir,” I said, extending my hand towards him. He took my hand, shook it, and told me his name – as if I needed to be told. He did not ask my name yet, but instead waved a hand, conjuring up a servant girl with a sweet smile and a grateful temperament.
“Another goblet, dear,” he said, “and some cakes for my friend and I.”
She shuffled off and soon returned with the goblet and a tray of rich pastries. Although I wasn’t particularly hungry, I ate anyway, not wanting to offend his hospitality. It was not until I consumed the first cake and drained my first glass of wine that my host ventured the obvious question.
“So, my friend,” he said, “We don’t see many visitors here. I hope you don’t believe me discourteous, but may I ask what brings you to my home?”
“Of course,” I said. “My name is Adam Solomon, sir, and I need help.”
“Do you now? Well, lad, advice will be yours freely given, but anything other than that…”
“Your advice alone would be an unbelievable gift, sir,” I said. “But before it’s over… I may feel compelled to ask for more.”
“I don’t do ‘more’ than that lad. Not for a long time. There is someone who has suffered quite enough because of years of doing ‘more’.”
“I know, sir. I know all about you. In fact, that’s why I came to find you. If anybody could understand why I have to do what I’m doing, it’s you.”
He nodded. “Is that so? Very well, son, you’ve drawn my curiosity, if nothing else. Go on. Tell me your tale.”
)