The Dandelion Tempest: Short Stories, Poetry, Essays and the Zeppelin Manifesto by M.R. Clutter

Author:M.R. Clutter [Clutter, M.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: -
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2016-09-29T00:00:00+00:00

10

The auditorium resonated with waves of strong tones, a man’s will personified in sound.

Before him was the entire school packed tightly, all sat quietly. The first four rows were coiled in uniforms of black and orange. The soon to graduate seventeen year olds, then the sixteen, fifteen, and fourteen year olds all segregated by age and rank. Behind them sat the basics, a rabble of mismatched colors, genders, and grades.

But all were alike in one way, they sat on the edges of their seats. The man seemed to emanate a warmth, a sort of friendly energy and Catherine most of all situated on the end of her row needed to meet him.

She nervously fidgeted with her hands, “Bright as beets!”, Berthold had said when he’d helpfully applied a cooling balm. She was thankful for the uniform, it helped her posture stay rigid, like a mailed fist, otherwise she’d probably just slouch on the floor. Her insides felt like gel. At least she had this, like an insect’s shell, keeping her together. She slowly fanned her hands back and forth, letting the cool air soothe them further.

Her porcelain face reflected angelic grace and she viewed it as a kind of purpose driven chance, this man’s appearance, it was the only thing keeping her mind focused and hoping.

A feeling far from pleasure, but close. Being amongst her troop helped her mood, it had been a mistake to not come to class. It was the first place she should’ve gone. She was eager to even pass the centrist party application along.

She struggled with the echoes and a soft buzzing in her head threatening to blow her calm façade apart. She attuned her attention the future and not the leftovers of a lost life, a clear sparkling edifice of a home entirely empty after this was over.

She watched him walking to a chair, stopping, the emission of deep honey like flavors, others called words, he strode to a small table with various bottled beverages atop it. He chose, and a member of his personal staff popped it open and served it in a carafe. He took a sip, some applauded even this. He smiled as though embarrassed, her heart beat faster, harassed.

Her eyes involuntarily flicked away from the fine form of Max Vorlorn. He had to be a few inches past six feet. He wore a tawny suit that hugged his body like a layer of silken skin. Even the fabric looked softer than that. His muscles bunching and rippling underneath would set an enemy’s teeth to chatter. His tie was all black and orange stripes, pinned on his lapel, a big pumpkin sporting a wicked grin, reminding Hallowed Week starts tomorrow.

Her eyes refused to go back like minnows darting about, perhaps he was too bright, you could stare at the sun for only a little while after all.

She noticed all the armored troops lined two rows deep against the walls like displays of medieval knights’ armor. She saw his personal monogram on their shoulders, chaos troopers.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.