Chipped

Amaranthine.
It told the story of the sky.
It told the story of my life.

My strained story as Dad relentlessly clicked away at the computer screen, the green light playing weird silhouettes on his face and in the background. He never told me what was so important that lay in that metal junk.
More important than his own daughter.
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I knew I could never tell Luscia about what I was doing. Her whole career would be destroyed then. I ran my hand through my greying hair and sighed, exasperated.

Where will all of this lead both of us?
Will the computer ultimately render us chipped and broken?

If I already wasn't so.
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Who was that black haired lass whose every breath drew fire on my face, whose every touch made me sensuous, whose eyes were hewn out of jade?

Out of the putrified grey smoke, three figures searched for their soul.
A father, a daughter, a lost boy.