A World In Its Own
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- Votes 1
- Parts 1
I look down at my arms, at the swirls and dots, and slowly look back up, feeling my eyes blink three times.
1... 2... 3...
I look up and the lines and swirls aren't only on the dancing people in the stadium. They connect every person in the room. Every person is connected to someone else in the large arena -- and every single neon line connects to me. I truly do see myself in every single person on this planet, but also in no one on this planet. I am different than everyone else. I'm as different as I could possibly be.
I am not human.
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#189
connections
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They say the world used to turn. They say that night would follow day in an endless dance. They say that dawn rose, dusk fell, and we worshiped both sun and stars. That was a long time ago. The dance has died. The world has fallen still. We float through the heavens, one half always in light, one half always in shadow. Like the moth of our forests, one wing white and the other black, we are torn. My people are the fortunate. We live in daylight, blessed in the warmth of the sun. Yet across the line, the others lurk in eternal night, afraid... and alone in the dark. I was born in the light. I was sent into darkness. This is my story.
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