In a house scripted with stories of delusional thoughts in the vicinity of city life, there lived a man of great structure and immense strength, to whom the parables and the oft told stories of the city folks seemed to not matter, for strangely he lived alone under the city lights alone. It was said that he sheltered himself with his savings and crept out to devour himself with food only when light was not. With the stories about him and the certain acts he performed had a vicious air of ferociousness about him that seemed to surround only the dead now seemed to encircle him.
He had an air of conformity about him, which seemed to the city folks as irrational one could almost say due to him not having any neighbours in his suburbs neither visitors.
Strolling the paved platforms of the street, which he was accustomed to take on friday evenings with long periods of walks especially in the absence of moon light, and locking himself inside the red of a telephone booth before the clock struck the hour of midnight. The red telephone booth, which is preposterously peculiar with its broken windows and rusty steel with peeled red paint on which moss is grown and rats seemed to shelter in its undergrowth, which was completely filled with vegetation on the floor and around the structure of the telephonic booth. With the stories that spread among the town men within clubs and segmented ism’s formed by the community members belonging to different groups that were absolutely ruthless with actions that brought about only fragmentations (people who praised mainly of the new-coming theories of the new age and the eloquence they were able to give to it when people followed them), talked of the peculiar man as viciously weird (Specifically his physique with long pointed ears and his bloodless colour of skin, with a stare that freaked the living life out of a five-year old kid as it did most men and women of the town). Questions arose as to why such debris of buildings and steel structures were left unattended, especially with a governing ruler who seemed to iterate all the misdoings and brought about change only in the eyes of the people through social media, with completely no change whatsoever in the reforms he had promised to rectify prior to the election.
One such story about him dictates that a house keeper left the premises after witnessing the strangeness of his neighbour’s vibe, where it happened that, whilst the neighbour held on to the vertical steel bars of the first floor window looking out at the haunted house, he heard an unexpected synchronic sound of the wolves at his exit out of the house at half past six.
Conscience’s Clutching Conformity
Lights of various buildings flickered in the wake of the nightly theme after the twilight, with thundering dense grey of clouds of the sky accompanying winds of coldness with leaves of green flowing around in the dusky air of the city environ with twigs and branches fallen to the ground. Time was nearly an hour before evening, striking the clock at three-quarter past four as the first sound of thunder struck upon the cold atmospheric county. The white of the lighting and it’s charged electrons tearing apart the cozy temperament of the clouds, leaving a highly pigmented line of blackness in the entire length of the darkening vicious backdrop, which brought about the white figure of the man who inhabited the closed space of the telephone booth this evening and not inside the county’s “haunted house“. His austere figure stood within the red and greenery of the booth, outlining a severity about him, which seemed to only get stronger as the moon moved to cover the photon packets of light off the solar rays sent upon the earth, with his naive and sharpness of light of his slender and tall figure made one forget the natural upheaval of the vicinity though he was under the shade of the telephone booth to let darkness take over with the hovering of the moon.
Amidst the mist of air that surveyed, no drops of rain water splashed on to the ethereal ground; still and grounded was it besides all the natural phenomenon around.
A dampened harmonic motion of sound followed with the sounds’ consequential frequency permeating the mist of ethereal etheric air around.
With all the tremor that encircled the city inhabitants, a strong gale wind began uprooting plants off its rootedness to earth and brought about the dragging of bicycles on to the blocks of brown bricks on the sidewalks of the road. Yet amidst all these, there was a sense of peace in the swaying sounds of the wind with the odour of fresh soil pervading the musky fragrant air and the silence between the etheric sounds of the winds and the raw colours of flowers that procured the attention of the senses, where beneath its ethereal form, there was a powerfully inviting presence about the flower, which seemed to be beyond the nature of forms, entailing one in the stillness that pervaded within and without in this moment.
Thence as the clouds of lightness darkened to their grayness with the harmonizing of the strong winds that had left things disordered, a white tall figure with thick eyebrows, outfitted in a vicious black of a suit entered the side-blocks of the street’s pavement, buzzing on with the stampeding feet of humans, who were walking around with umbrellas that were mostly transparent. The callous sounds of wolves thus followed, screeching and creating chaos to the listener, this time even more severe than previously during the hovering of the moon. He seemed to cherish the sound of them for he glistened with a smile, protruding away the path of a woman who witnessed the canine sharpness of his two teeth on either sides of his mouth, laughing a soundless laughter like a predator that has been fallen in to a region full of a prey.