"In the pursuit of virtue, don't be afraid to overtake your teacher."
"Young people should not be taken lightly. How do you know that they will not one day be better than you are now?"

--Confucius

"True poets are only the interpreters of the Gods."

-- Socrates

You laugh because I'm different, I laugh because you're the same.


Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The Light

Author's Note:
I am writing a series of short stories and this is one of them.  


Every night, when I say my prayers, I stare blankly out the window.  I see apartments, skyscrapers, and a lamppost that never seems to be on.  Though tonight was different; the light in the post was on, but I hadn't the slightest clue why.  Downstairs, the switch is on the off half of the plate, but the light is still on.  My feet walk on the damp grass as I make my way to the lamp post.  Tonight was really dark and I couldn't totally see where I was going, but I knew my way around pretty well.  As I reached the lamppost, I tried to find the switch to turn it off.  I tried pushing it, tapping it, heck I even tried kicking it, but it wouldn't turn off!  Cars drive by and I hear horns, whistles, and then suddenly almost a breathing sound.  Once I've convinced myself that I am being ridiculous, I hear it again; and again, and again.  A shadow appears from the building across the street and a man walks out.  He's walking straight toward me, yet still looking the other direction.  His pockets look like there is a mirror or a bell in them, but it was neither.  It was a gun.  My mouth begins to scream as he turns around and…BANG.

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