CHAPTER SIX
Book one: ethereal icarus
There was the fallen world before her; everything crumbles to its knees. The one- glorious crowns of mankind now a deserted sea of ruins. No life. Just her. She continued walking in the desolated street where cars stood as an imbecile amidst. The silence that was born after a premature Armageddon transpired. She was the only one alive-well, at least she and a rotten soul within her, once a force to be reckoned with-was the only survivor.
Her eyes conveyed sullenness, ominously desolated and seemed close to being tearful. It might be sharp but it was scathing. Her young body stood erect, disguising the mere fact that her rundown dress carried her and not the other way around. Even though melancholy-stricken, the round face held its elements firmly; the nose, the cheeks that held prickles, the mouth that was tightly shut asserted the cloud that hang above her sunken heart. The shoulder-length blond hair went along perfectly with the colour, that certain sallowness and the dire sadness that she possessed. She cried for death but knew the angel would not come, well, at least at that very moment. She was a sole survivor in a distant time. Living alone. Searching alone. But, even though ever the isolated she was, she would not meet death.
The fiery clouds swirled above her. Silence was still there. Stranded was she in a distant rime, in a distant future.
Her name was. well, was it still necessary?
And the other entity inside her, gagged and blindfolded, was as modeus.
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