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[Issue 71] A Rose in the Darkness


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“Doesn’t it make you mad sometimes, the way people act like the world is going to end whenever it gets dark? I mean, look up from your damn screens for once people, there are enough things to do out here after sunset to occupy a frickin’ teenager!”

 

“It’s biological. They say that it’s carried on from when we hid in caves and saber-toothed tigers used to jump out and eat us for dinner.”

 

“Well, there aren’t any bloody tigers around now, are there? I don’t get it!”

 

I tilt my head back and laugh into the velvety blackness surrounding me, the noise mixing with the rush of the wind that takes my hair in its embrace and sends it spiraling out behind me. The tarmac ahead of me is the only thing not covered in darkness, being illuminated by the two twin lights clipped onto our handlebars.

 

The volume of the indignant voice drops a little as we take a sharp curve in the road, brake pads lightly kissing the rims of our wheels as we slow down, and then grows louder as the owner of the voice lines herself up next to me.

 

“Anyway, it’s not like they do anything in the day either, is it? Actually, I suppose you can hardly expect them to do anything apart from turn on the lights to scare off the big scary monsters hiding under their beds.”

 

My laughter subsides into a smile that stays with me, since I have no need to make any further comments. These rants happen every now and then, and I’ve learnt that the best way to avoid them is to simply let the words wash over me and wait for the energy for the monologue to wear itself out, at which point I can tactfully and subtly change the topic.

 

“So where are we planning to end up today anyway?”, I ask eventually once silence has once again asserted itself over us.

 

“Probably Turn 32, past that place that sells the giant sombreros. Should be a nice view out there today, it’s not too cloudy”, she replies.  

 

I know the place. It’s a little gravel runoff area just on the side of the winding, hilly road that we’re on now. Someone at some point of time had the bright idea (probably born of one bottle too many) to chuck a bunch of flower seeds over the side of the drop there, so now every summer there’s a veritable bower of flowers clinging to the side of the rise and waving in the breeze. Since it’s not even properly warm yet, there won’t be any flowers there just yet, but the place is a nice vantage point from which to view the valley that we just climbed up from.

 

Our light beams cut across the tarmac as we move across from our lane and the sound of gravel crunching beneath our tires lets us know that it’s time to dismount or run the risk of shredded tires. We lean our bikes against a convenient rock sticking out of the ground, which also serves double duty as our seat. The lights still clipped to the handlebars illuminate the ground directly around us, and possibly the greatest wonder of the night.

 

“It’s a rose! Out here, in the freezing cold!”

 

A peal of laughter mixes with the night air as she leans down to get a closer look at the flower, her hair liberated from the clutches of her helmet and flickering around her face in the breeze floating across the valley.

 

And suddenly, I know for sure what the greatest wonder of the night is. It’s her.

 

My rose in the darkness.

 

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Excellent.

 

Would like to see more, and would love see longer stuff with an actual plot. Stuff like Memory, but would prefer you cut out the futuristic action and stuff. See what I mean?

Edited by Magenta

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Excellent.

 

Would like to see more, and would love see longer stuff with an actual plot. Stuff like Memory, but would prefer you cut out the futuristic action and stuff. See what I mean?

So more real word stories that continue for multiple chapters?

 

The moment when Flexbot finally allows Tweez to write stories in the newspaper.

COUP! COUP! COUP!

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