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The clock tower princess - part 3A strange noise floated by Zach's ears, it wasn't much but after being unconscious for hours anything could sound beautiful. It was the creaking and groaning of a single water wheel, scooping up the stream and depositing it on the other side. Hardly noise but to the Private, it was proof he was still alive.
He was lucky, he could have easily been sucked under the water wheel and that would have been the end of it. He must have washed up onto something; his head was against solid ground. It felt cold like a stone floor, which would mean he was inside a building; that was why it was so quiet. He needed to get up, he needed to figure out what the hell had happened to him, figure out if he was hurt or not. Bending at the waist, the private sat up with minimal difficulty; only a slight pain in his back hampered him, a true miracle.
He bumped his head sitting up. Opening his eyes, he quickly remembered the sensation
The clock tower princess -part 2It was a short walk back to the stream but Zach's favorite perch was a freeway for stray bullets. This was crazy, how the hell could he be expected to do this? Sure he was a little un-motivated and spacey to a certain degree but did Craig hate him that much? It took a very long time before the private could act; insubordination was still an option in his mind. Well, Craig was right behind him, so he had to do something. Acting out of fear, not duty, Zach jumped on top of his favorite rock and stared down at the battle.
It was close to impossible to see much of anything, it was dark, and Zach's trembling hands couldn't keep the binoculars steady. Bullets hissed past his ears and face, splashing in the water.
"What do you see?!" asked Craig.
Zach's breathing became ragged; he needed to find something. The first enemy trench was a lot like his, save for one part where an exceptionally large amount of fire was emanating.
The clock tower princess - part 1It was an extremely bleak and barren landscape, no matter how you looked at it. Jagged hills crowned with dead grass and raw dirt and craters as far as the eye could see. A destination such as this only had one redemption; a simple clock tower sitting alone in a gully. It hung like a dead tree over the miserable landscape. Long trenches lined the earth below it, checked by an equal number of trenches in the hill along the distant dark sky. Even the breeze was unpleasant; it reeked of death and decay. Why would anyone care to visit such a place?
Only one answer: those who didn't have a choice. Inside every trench were scores of soldier's learning fast how cruel the world could be. Outnumbered by both the enemy and the vermin, those tucked under the clock tower had it the worst. Uniforms were soaked with mud and filth and bodies were streaked from head to toe with perspiration. N
Muse and LoverTreat the Muse as the Lover.
For one who's found a Lover
also has the Muse.
for running from one
to catch the other
Same goes for all:
the trees, the streets;
To covet one
above the other
is to abuse and smother and threaten forever.
God, bless the Lover.
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More