Silence in The Rustleland
Born when spring was colorous. When the season was about the farmers which are excited to dig. The sound of crying indicates that there will be a lot of abundant fortune that will come that year.
Always late in developing. Never put much effort into anything, just wanted to make people laugh and get noticed. Go to the market and tell stories. There a story is read to the merchants and passers-by who pass the small wooden house. The story will make anyone who sees it laugh until they cough.
Delicate hands, not like those of forging iron or holding a sword. All day writing in front of a teak tree while drawing what is interesting. Even so, every writing and image is assessed first with a point of view (imagine the expressions of the people who will see). Try to imagine a different perspective on the writing and pictures, and then people will also sympathize, laugh, and be sad.
Likes stories that are funny and fun. Many thought about what joke tomorrow morning would be for the market residents. Imagine a brilliant idea. Hunger left delicious food for thought. Middle-aged women often even take a deep breath when they see a sweet smile without making a sound.
Invisibility
The day is mourning. There are lots of red writing, paper, and pictures. In the face of that hellish day, no one tapped on the shoulder or extended a hand. So this is what fear feels like. Oh, so this is what is called emptiness? Loneliness is like this huh.
Invisibility, a power to walk unnoticed by others. I don’t know if it’s a gift or a disaster. What about the stories and laughs at yesterday’s market. They disappeared along with invisible calamity — , oh no, I mean, invisible grace.
Go to forests, lakes and rivers. Visiting three different places during the week, changing colors at the market and trying to find lots of escapes. There was no sound, in the bag was a heavy pile of coke and bark. Lost voice, skin on hands rash and bleeding. To make it faster, the charcoal writes words on the skin of the hand when it doesn’t have time to take the bark in the bag.
Snake Covenant
Fish, deer, ants and snakes. They rarely make a sound, except for snakes which usually like to hiss. Every day saw, watched, and wanted to be silent, seeing the rashes and blood mixed with charcoal black. Fish that come with lots of them will produce bubbles from their mouths. The deer that was silent will lower its head for a very long time, the ants that move to carry their food to the nest will stop, and the snakes still don’t believe it.
The moon changes shape, from perfect, half, crescent, and ring. There are many rashes that have healed and come back. There was a lot of bark strewn with ugly carvings in the forest. The number is already countless. So much charcoal had been used up, that the surface of the hands had turned completely black.
Snakes that move not as usual. He moved straight ahead, stopping temporary, watching, when he was sure he was being followed, he would lead into the valley behind a large rock. Arriving at the valley, snakes coiled around a sword held by a hand.
Promise, leave everything with blood on the sword.
Promise, to bury it all
I was blown away, and that night, the valley then collapsed and covered everything around it with hot sand.
