gumnut-logic: In the soft grey silence, nothing moves. Like the aftermath of an apocalypse everythin
gumnut-logic: In the soft grey silence, nothing moves. Like the aftermath of an apocalypse everything is quiet. Even his bare footsteps on gravel can barely be heard and the mist prickles his skin. Cloud caressing, taunting cool amongst the warmth, condensing in his hair. He needs the silence. To listen. Beyond reality, he feels two of his brothers. John, orderly, passionate, loving and starstruck. His colours of midnight blue, silver starlight and flame orange flicker on the edge of his mind, a quiet, worried hover wanting to intrude, but respecting Virgil’s need of solitude. The other is burning magnesium sparking, contorting and bouncing about, splashing ripples all over their mindscape. Smooth, slippery and joyous, yet muted by the same concern haunting John. Gordon is aquamarine and sunshine wrapped in love, strengthened by steel. And himself. He wonders how his brothers see him, what splashes of colour represent his presence. What they feel when they feel him. He is the focus. The sensitive. The eldest of the three. He knows things. But not enough. Because where Scott and Alan reside in his mind, there is nothing. No sense, no knowing. No colour to turn to. Scott is their leader and his best friend. His relationship with his older brother could not be stronger, yet he senses nothing. Alan is his littlest brother. Of all of them the one needing the most care and protection, yet Virgil senses nothing. Not even today. Not when it had been most needed. The grey is suddenly not enough. He needs storm and lightning, the fury of the sky to compliment his mood. He needs an angry ocean. Mountainous waves crashing against a resolute shore. He needs his brothers. All of them. Keep reading Beautiful.May have had to take a break in the middle - something wet was obscuring my view and making it hard to see the words! -- source link