• Short Story - "Visions"
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This is a legend I wrote, my grandfather asked me to write a story or legend for one of his conferences, still no word on how well it went. [b]Visions[/b] Three brothers at the peak of their misery were given a second chance, to lose the bottle and rediscover who they are. With time the child draws in, this whipping boy done wrong, he tries to please them all, this bitter man he is, but the old man they see no long cares. The task at hand was to head into the wilderness and fast, to discover who they really are, who they once were. The sky was getting darker by the minute. Insects swarmed the woods by the millions, anyone caught in the dusk swarm was sure to be driven mad. As the sun set beyond the horizon, the unforgiving cold started settling in, diminishing the swarm of millions to pockets of thousands. To combat the noise of the swarm, crickets, frogs, the night time wildlife sprang to life, filling the woods with unseen animals. Sunlight was non-existent by the time the moon arose. The only light to greet the stars was the warm light of a flame. A small camp fire situated near the wood's edge, on the lake's shore. Breathing in the cool crisp night air, and the sweet smell of burning wood, he was the only one left to experience a vision, he was the only one left to tend to the campsite. Four days ago, he and his kin set out to accomplish a vision quest, brandishing traditional leather clothing, they would set out into the wilderness in search of their spirit names, equipped with only the skills they needed to survive. Two days pass and the youngest of the three gives out, on the third day, the second oldest receives his vision in the liveliness of night and departs early the next morning, leaving the oldest brother alone. Early evening on the fifth night, his story begins. Starved of all contact, his mind begins to reveal to him who he is in the form of patterns and hallucinations, flashbacks and forgotten memories. He gazes into the flame as he remembers a time before his lips touch the bottle, before his tongue tastes the bitter sweet alcohol. A time before he lost the most important person in his life to alcohol. It is in these flames of the sweet smelling fire that he sees her face again. It is in the reflection of the flames on the lake does he see them all. It is on the wind, through the trees, over the lake, that he hears a hundred voices speaking as on. His family. His friends. His mother. [i]Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a [url= Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.]http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/3.0/[/url][/i]
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