I think this was my first major attempt at writing, it was intended as a fantasy, exploring life and creation. It never really got of its feet, and I got sidetracked by another story (which incidently hit a brick wall). It was inspired by a piece of electronic music I wrote called 'The Genesis Cycle', which gave me an image of the birth of good and evil, fighting from the off. I may continue it one day.
The moon was slowly sinking down in to the depths of the dawn, the day light coming to replace it. The sky turned from black to blue. A single white orchid hidden amongst a congregation of bamboo canes, was preparing to receive the new day and the chorus of birds was slowly turning from a few disparate voices into a mad frenzy. Meilim could feel the dew on his legs, crawling up to his waist, it had gradually been scaling him as he sat there fixed on the book. Kundae finally turned to Meilim, his deep brown eyes catching the last glimpse of the moon. For a few moments he just stood watching the small boy in deep concentration, he watched every expression in his face, transfixed with the beauty of the letters of the ancient language, but almost fearful of the other sketches. This troubled Kundae, as one so young should never know fear and certainly never experience it. Fear was an emotion of the elders and known only to the third generation as a description. It seemed to pass as soon as it arrived. Kundae moved closer to the child, encompassing him in his shadow. Meilim looked up at Kundae, a little smile etched it’s way onto his face. Meilim knew it was not for him to study the books, not yet anyway.
The moon was slowly sinking down in to the depths of the dawn, the day light coming to replace it. The sky turned from black to blue. A single white orchid hidden amongst a congregation of bamboo canes, was preparing to receive the new day and the chorus of birds was slowly turning from a few disparate voices into a mad frenzy. Meilim could feel the dew on his legs, crawling up to his waist, it had gradually been scaling him as he sat there fixed on the book. Kundae finally turned to Meilim, his deep brown eyes catching the last glimpse of the moon. For a few moments he just stood watching the small boy in deep concentration, he watched every expression in his face, transfixed with the beauty of the letters of the ancient language, but almost fearful of the other sketches. This troubled Kundae, as one so young should never know fear and certainly never experience it. Fear was an emotion of the elders and known only to the third generation as a description. It seemed to pass as soon as it arrived. Kundae moved closer to the child, encompassing him in his shadow. Meilim looked up at Kundae, a little smile etched it’s way onto his face. Meilim knew it was not for him to study the books, not yet anyway.
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