Audioslave
09-07-2007, 11:24 PM
Here it is, folks, a new story from me. It has an actual, honest to god central plot that will go somewhere (maybe?). There will be more coming, just give me some time.
I enjoy constructive criticism, even if it involves the words "It sucks."
--
Knowledge Is A Fish Named Truth
The field was particularly green that time of the year. What else is there to say? The grass that made up the field was green, and the hidden soil beneath that allowed the green grass to grow was brown. The sun that hanged above the brown soil and the green grass was a fiery blend of red and yellow. Sitting on the green field, I concluded that things change and time passes, we’re all alive but doomed. What are we but little biological bombs, counting down to zero? One day we just go boom and cease to be. We are each complex bombs that count down from 1000, and each steak we eat, each cigarette we smoke, they fray out tiny wires and our time goes a little haywire. And sometimes, when we’re on the fritz, we cut another person’s wires and cause them to explode, and sometimes we cut our own.
While I sat in that field off the short of Vancouver Island, contemplating nothing, thousands of miles away, in Mexico, a man named Verdad was discovering something of another sort. Verdad was fishing, and he had managed to catch one fish, a blue one. It was a normal, every day fish that Verdad had seen every day for what felt like his whole life. A more ordinary fish there was none, or so Verdad perceived with his eyes. The fish was a lonely sort, as it was the only food Verdad had caught all day, so he deemed it wise to cut his losses and just go home and get some other sort of work done. Verdad was lost in his own thoughts, nothing quite as cynical as our exploding disposition, something more along the lines of what he was going to tell his wife upon his arrival home. Women in Los Angeles married men with nice cars, private jets or big penises, Verdad’s wife married him, as all the women in his village married, for his providing ability. So, drowning in his puddle of thoughts, Verdad had begun to wander into the trees. Not releasing his deviation from the path, he continued his steady pace. A howl pulled him from within his thoughts, it brought home the reality that he was no longer on the well-cut road to home.
Verdad had been in the jungle plenty of times, he was a fairly skilled at surviving in nature. He had never been quite as deep as he was then, and he wondered how he could have been so blind to his own wandering. He first tried to retrace his steps, but he quickly got disoriented. In Spanish, mumbled to himself and asked what he was to do. Curiously, he received an answer.
“The sun sets to the west,
To go east would be best,
Your first question is a bore, I must confess.”
Verdad stood statue-like in his shock. His ears perked up and he did not move a muscle, worrying that the flexing of even a finger could drown out the mysterious voice. He did a mental checklist of the food and drink he had consumed that day, and debated whether or not each was questionable. He began to look around, and a typical jungle stared intently back at him. He waited a minute, and slowly opened his mouth and asked who had spoken to him.
“Your second question is bland,
But you made a demand
I am your humble servant, your fish, at your command.”
Verdad’s jaw dropped violently. Looking down to the normal-looking fish in his bag, he received a blank stare from the creature. He invoked god’s name under his breath and looked over his shoulder to the setting sun. He began to run.
By the time he returned home, sweat cascaded heavily from his forehead, his heart pumped blood with haste, and his lungs expanded and collapsed to the quick beat of an unseen drummer. He ran right into the bathroom, and put the fish in the sink, which he filled with water.
“I appreciate your simple thought,
If I have no water do not be distraught
Into the air I can easily be brought.”
Verdad looked dumbfounded, and posed a question to the fish. “Are you some sort of demon?”
”Demon? No, I am not any of your perceptions of magical beings,
Too many of your people decide without seeing,
And too often then end up agreeing.”
Verdad was at a loss. Was he hallucinating? Or had he really caught a magical fish that would answer any question, and what’s more, in rhymes? “Do you also grant wishes?”
“Your wish will be granted,
If you wish to have the seed of knowledge planted
If you wish instant riches, you are disenchanted.”
Verdad was happy that his wife was not at home, or she would have certainly felt uncertain about his conversation with a fish. Verdad had one more question before finding a place to hide his new friend. “What is your name, little fish?”
“Names are just letters conjoined one after another
If you must give me a title, brother,
Truth will do better than any other.”
I enjoy constructive criticism, even if it involves the words "It sucks."
--
Knowledge Is A Fish Named Truth
The field was particularly green that time of the year. What else is there to say? The grass that made up the field was green, and the hidden soil beneath that allowed the green grass to grow was brown. The sun that hanged above the brown soil and the green grass was a fiery blend of red and yellow. Sitting on the green field, I concluded that things change and time passes, we’re all alive but doomed. What are we but little biological bombs, counting down to zero? One day we just go boom and cease to be. We are each complex bombs that count down from 1000, and each steak we eat, each cigarette we smoke, they fray out tiny wires and our time goes a little haywire. And sometimes, when we’re on the fritz, we cut another person’s wires and cause them to explode, and sometimes we cut our own.
While I sat in that field off the short of Vancouver Island, contemplating nothing, thousands of miles away, in Mexico, a man named Verdad was discovering something of another sort. Verdad was fishing, and he had managed to catch one fish, a blue one. It was a normal, every day fish that Verdad had seen every day for what felt like his whole life. A more ordinary fish there was none, or so Verdad perceived with his eyes. The fish was a lonely sort, as it was the only food Verdad had caught all day, so he deemed it wise to cut his losses and just go home and get some other sort of work done. Verdad was lost in his own thoughts, nothing quite as cynical as our exploding disposition, something more along the lines of what he was going to tell his wife upon his arrival home. Women in Los Angeles married men with nice cars, private jets or big penises, Verdad’s wife married him, as all the women in his village married, for his providing ability. So, drowning in his puddle of thoughts, Verdad had begun to wander into the trees. Not releasing his deviation from the path, he continued his steady pace. A howl pulled him from within his thoughts, it brought home the reality that he was no longer on the well-cut road to home.
Verdad had been in the jungle plenty of times, he was a fairly skilled at surviving in nature. He had never been quite as deep as he was then, and he wondered how he could have been so blind to his own wandering. He first tried to retrace his steps, but he quickly got disoriented. In Spanish, mumbled to himself and asked what he was to do. Curiously, he received an answer.
“The sun sets to the west,
To go east would be best,
Your first question is a bore, I must confess.”
Verdad stood statue-like in his shock. His ears perked up and he did not move a muscle, worrying that the flexing of even a finger could drown out the mysterious voice. He did a mental checklist of the food and drink he had consumed that day, and debated whether or not each was questionable. He began to look around, and a typical jungle stared intently back at him. He waited a minute, and slowly opened his mouth and asked who had spoken to him.
“Your second question is bland,
But you made a demand
I am your humble servant, your fish, at your command.”
Verdad’s jaw dropped violently. Looking down to the normal-looking fish in his bag, he received a blank stare from the creature. He invoked god’s name under his breath and looked over his shoulder to the setting sun. He began to run.
By the time he returned home, sweat cascaded heavily from his forehead, his heart pumped blood with haste, and his lungs expanded and collapsed to the quick beat of an unseen drummer. He ran right into the bathroom, and put the fish in the sink, which he filled with water.
“I appreciate your simple thought,
If I have no water do not be distraught
Into the air I can easily be brought.”
Verdad looked dumbfounded, and posed a question to the fish. “Are you some sort of demon?”
”Demon? No, I am not any of your perceptions of magical beings,
Too many of your people decide without seeing,
And too often then end up agreeing.”
Verdad was at a loss. Was he hallucinating? Or had he really caught a magical fish that would answer any question, and what’s more, in rhymes? “Do you also grant wishes?”
“Your wish will be granted,
If you wish to have the seed of knowledge planted
If you wish instant riches, you are disenchanted.”
Verdad was happy that his wife was not at home, or she would have certainly felt uncertain about his conversation with a fish. Verdad had one more question before finding a place to hide his new friend. “What is your name, little fish?”
“Names are just letters conjoined one after another
If you must give me a title, brother,
Truth will do better than any other.”