The Space Effect Read online

Page 3

Chapter one

  My name is Verie. I was born in the 2100s. When people see me, they call my name like Viray. Normally they do that but sometimes they read me rashly too. My town is flourished with business partners, tradesmen, and pretty women; there are some wild boys too. Wide and looming buildings are similar to a more modern day skyscrapers but they hold a conventional effect. Distance from normal properties is sojourn. Things evolve so fast due to programmed unmanned changes in disguise, for the elite masters at hand are still in progress of over developing the fastest for the best in political world exchange. It may sound cool, but if ones who live here don’t decide fast enough and they drop to bottom of the black hole then they will be pushed out of our own world. In the town I’m in, I’m just a traditional work helper. I lend my hand to inept deciders in need or anyone, rather, to keep the economics; boss the gardens; connect to more social networks; then to enter in drag machine marathons.

  “Forsaking all to keep our world apart from the worst in rough competition with yellow grahams in deep concentric conjurations, we must push on towards farther reaches. Like I said, we pertain a strict rule forum verbatim in congruence with our agreement in foreign countries in hence to prevent defrost divergent of our Narnia so called paramount. So the incoming debates will struggle to upkeep disastrous floods from arranging into our warm and veracious basket case of persimmon. In this speech, I also want to point directly to goners who, when, and merlots did or died in front of in void custody hibernation doing so to prove the wide ranged causes of our diminutive however preposterous evil deeds toying when rejoice we had only one. I want to point out to this country to stand apart from out towns and destined Emilies in order forging dark decoded paradigms. Also, as president in this widely world, we can hope to a regime dissected in this flowery world cases being the right time and the dire tryouts. Raise your hands if you want to register for the oh so important reach out from dire skies in tense of recuing the fumes of ground porridge or skim milk. Please understand me as I stand, I the orator, to you, sensual people that why yolk drain from white reality forming to combine an oasis instead of a mirage because it’s crucial to explain, not puzzled pieces of dog crap so far changing technology goes will power we originally could have intend to fight us back in disgrace of liability. To rely on one deemed soul is to jack a vehicle from high depending self but not self evidence for hitting blank points. We work on a forward moving time so desperate that in hue the moss covered lively trunks will say a thing about us, the people who we are surrounded by or lengthy movements replaying segregated yogurt wastes foaming in the bottom of your desired seasonal item. Truth to say, certain possibilities remain seen in the air and the indispensable one will not yell for help or relief. Comfort remains etched in our internal systems, away from the dreamers with dopey eyes and trips to springs and cats’ burrows didn’t have your body in someone else’s cooking for sure. The moment we end this sacrificial trade growing more sharply from lanterns used in corpulence desert care hanging proprietors is the amount that we have leftover from sissy usages and stands today as 2039 we will not torrent sound or match deeply into the wrong order, so to speak. We will definitely not stray from the decapitated ways of the water when someone that young pours the glass. Forever remaining the same stability, improvising our ways when regaining more familiarity or the upcoming event to the whole spherical universe my underhand plays a big role to treat imposters as kids. To over express ourselves in today’s society and movements framing the scrapbook in our daily social networks will not depend immediately on outer appearance but as of rooks.”

  The orator bowed his head at the townspeople gathered in the theater auditorium. The orator was a man of 56 years and he wore an old fashioned cap to cover the bald spot smacked right in the middle of his head. His sideburns were rich though. He got down from the stage and retrieved his initial position of the front seats. The president came forward with a likely gait. He was in his 30s, manly and prosperous, also quite attractive. Being that, he still lived a life alone with his mansion. There were no servers either. He paused on the microphone stand, and took a vow to protect his country, world, rather. He says, “we will no longer inhabit the depths of the caves but instead take the route to free land. I, as your father in hand, believe that trust is fundamental to our health upon multiple aspects involving the children, mothers, gentlemen with ladies, and our generals to stand ahead to ascertain the train of thought in our beloved minds. Gracefulness is near as holidays pass and season change for the better. No one will overpower you with his abstruse words.” So the president Melborne, Arakay ended his words with a wave of his arm, and outstretched hands he grappled in the air invoking excitement from his people. Without further a due, the people exited the auditorium in high spirits, some driving home, some going to outdoor events in this sunny day. An expensive car drilled in to pick up the wealthy. The streets were bustling with crowds and activity concerning the words of the orator and the president. Out walked the jester. On the benches sat an adorned girl with her big fluffy poodle. She lifted her saffron hat to glance at the pedestrians walking by. There was one man of 6 feet 7 walking absentmindedly while in his right hand held the starting passages of a pipe. When in usual cases, every passerby wonders dearly what is beneath that mash of hair standing on his head. His eyes are dark and when he looks down, usually his shoulders glow rather natural bound and when he sits down, all his sexiness is fused out in a cool. Then his uniforms are quite catchy and his voice, whenever he speaks it jangles profusely in laid back tones and reminds people often of the adrenaline intensive foreground. He could be called a name, although his stature and nature intertwined nicely still don’t give others a clue to what he is really called other than respectable sir or some other high placed position of a name. So he walks on, and the girl in her petticoat dress and saffron hat rearranges her things and fixes her shoulder strap. She sniffs in the air, leans forward a bit as if hearing discombobulated noises from her right, since gratefully gathers her maxim bag in a strudel mixed with chicken pot pie as if she cooked it. Today was a rainy day and at the station the train leaves on. But rain has not come forth yet. When will it gain enough volume of the clouds built up, layers of condensation cycling power, commoners gather their newspaper to examine the situation at hand because when they take the train to get home, and it’s pouring rain, stomachs will be hungry at the jumbled mess from the illusions at the dinner table. Lights in houses dance effervescently to the beat of the sundown. In the part of the hills down yonder, few miles north of the bustle, families, couples and children play with the soft ground, at the shiny playground, at your local barbecue place and most importantly contributors in all will sit still on the soft blue blanket above the grass watching the sunset in a million colors exploded from the side. The sun’s rays stretch far out in tense the half globe and on will experience the radial shadows of the imminent forging rays, satire and light.

  It was in the cabin of friendship land when the dwarfs spied on the Penelope princess with two dozen sly eyes half hidden under red and blue caps with a mushy grimy upward twist of their thin lips. They punched on her window sill when Teddy, head dwarf finally rejected patience. The glass vibrated and in two impulsive movements, the pretty flower pot fell inwards into the room, where Penelope was sleeping. In return, she fumbled in her bed and palpably dragged with her right arm the end of her satin bed sheet above her delicate ear, arched her back. A Northern wind blew through the cabin’s parted window, the second one, and it drew sharply the drapes into disarray while lightly touching the top of the princess’s covers. The dwarves grew more impatient, however in a few minutes, their glary eyes registered on the sleeping mound of Princess Penelope. Oops. Once the mistake was made, the dwarves gained the plan to run and banish away but however the moment they saw the golden fire of silken hair above her face and shoulders, and her etched spirited figure underneath a black satin sheets when the bed was only five feet tall in height and polished wooden board completely bac
ked up her seeded face which could be seen pale in the moonlight if she did take a walk. In amazement, pushing each other, the dwarves resorted to quieter speech, in rash whispers as they analyzed the exotic Penelope. Based on past moving events, there was a so called rumor of the King’s and Queen’s new child, a baby boy, already manly in structure and length. By five years, he was jesting with the royals who were considerably 30 years older. The man is now of 23 years and a coming of age with the great deeds he has done. There is no one that doesn’t know a single memorable thing he did or the fact that he rides out in his black stallion with his sword to hunt each morning for higher items such as tigers. The Queen sits back into her chair with the upwards gaze of a proud and luxurious grown women and the King lives contently into his new life as in mid life milestone, he welcomes new guests into the kingdom and carries on inattentively to anything the Prince would have overlooked. An only son of the greatest Kingdom of the land and in a pristine floor upstairs lay amusements and games to satisfy even the richest of mindsets. Only high class noblemen or ladies can play. It’s strenuous and challenging. No one is even close to better match the Prince Evon’s level, not even his birth mother and father. So he lays alone with his contentment of higher battles with men adversely incompatible. But soon, the detective arrives as if he flew swiftly from here, into the kingdom’s wide doors he went. A gush of windswept fog came in along with clear cut shapes of the man. He was still in his uniform, as he made it short the coarse rain cut his vipers (part of a collar and hood) droplets of wet in outer crisp layer. And the hat he used to make covered his head abounding and wet in all pieces, for it was sinkable. The detective walked forward casually, his footsteps soft but echoing through the lobby halls. He took a seat on the lanyard vans form a leather seat with his legs spread out perpendicularly apart and he put his hands to his bangs, dipping his head in such a way that the stage zoned out every one of anyone’s thoughts. The soldiers keeping place watched his intently, looks going from his mashed hair to mushy crisp jacket and dark indigo pants which fit him loosely. His shoes also mossy in camouflage colors did indicate a sense of psychological intelligence. The man tilted his head. The soldier in front immediately as if on command straightened his staff and chest. The soldier’s mustache was noticed and the detective chuckled to himself, thinking how queer the route to upstairs will be. But in the mean time, he would wait here, still taking in the insights of the new decorations; for he came here often, to toy with business, and a traveler is a traveler not a heart inviting but distance tinplating. So darkness took over from the afternoon, and the stranger climbed up the ballroom stairs, modern design. He held onto the railing of the lantern lighted halls and gravely walking up the steps, expecting a light on the other side. When he finally reached the door of the game room, he knocked as he jumped in with excitement at heart. The prince Evon stood in a corner with the specialty dices in his hands. He toys with nature, and people run scared.