𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 [OLD/ORIGINAL]

Chapter Five - Impetuous

It's a beautiful world, isn't it?

Under the tree, the merry breeze was collected by the colors of blue, green, and brown. When the breeze got too strong, faint bird sounds disappeared to the light. All except for a huge chunk that was bothered more by bottom of someone who sat still, gentle shadows floating over the grass and flowers that danced to the back. 

They silently judged the naive strangers who crossed the thin concrete that smelled of oil and stone as they peered down and over the town circle. The fact that they cannot engage in gestures of generosity and care was not readily evident. Perhaps there were no sounds at all in heaven. She now turned to look at the clouds blending together while she continued to contemplate the value of what people may see and feel. Why they can suffer? Why they could do the most? It never really made any sense. For some time, they will reach a limit. 

The bottle crashing in the middle of their break would be the portion if there was one where nothing obviously ridiculous occurred well before that head bump. Mimicking a tiny grunt, they picked up the bottle and examined it closely, catching an eye on a large roll of paper inside the crystal-clear glass. They shrugged, not thinking much in particular once forced out like a party popper. A little startled by the loud pop. She gently placed the bottle beside the dandelions and stretched the paper out so that it was coated in vast ink fonts. Upon the letter was a greeting with special words that made them tilt their head.

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝐸𝓋𝒾𝑒,

𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓃𝑒𝓌𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝓋𝒾𝒸𝑒.

𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝒸𝑜𝑔𝓃𝒾𝓏𝑒 𝓊𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓃𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝒷𝑜𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝒹𝑒𝓈, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈. 𝒮𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓌𝒶𝓇𝒹; 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝓋𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝒸𝒽𝓊𝓇𝒸𝒽 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒸𝒶𝓅𝒶𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎. 𝒪𝒻 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒, 𝓌𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜.

𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝒸𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝒹, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒽𝓊𝓇𝒸𝒽 𝒾𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒶 𝒻𝑒𝓌 𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓅𝓈 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓇𝓎, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒.

𝒮𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎,𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓇𝓎𝓁 

❄

They were just about to leave, but something flourished in them. One's jitteriness as they laid the ground reminded of pilfering ants. They got up fast and walked away because the air was becoming dry. Approached with strange faces that made them nervous, children staring with those big, beady little eyes, and the elders moving past with a pitiful glance was enough to push her away—there was a chance. Perhaps everyone was intimidated by the prospect of meeting a priest. Some cried, some ran. One in particular was very indulged and prevented themselves to urge the thirst of something sickening. That would be considered a sin to the world.