Oliver Benjamin
armies charging to liberate the holy bean from the evil enterprise that
blasphemed it. And he saw those armies laid to waste by a hard hail
of black rain. What was the point of fighting anymore? They had no
weapons, no cavalry, no way to counter a man whose influence could
engender miracles. They had only their sentimental hunger. And that
would never be enough.
Sprout did not know where she was going, only that a compelling
force had drawn her out into the unwelcoming evening. Only the wild
and desperate would be out there, but she knew how to handle them.
She had been the target of violence before. She knew the ways her
beauty could draw men to desperation. Still, she chose liberty over
incarceration, even if that freedom could sometimes lead to even
greater freedoms: the freedom from comfort, health and sanity.
Pulling her hood over her golden hair, she walked down the long
boulevard that led to the beach. The wind and waves were howling
and crashing so furiously it sounded like warfare.
Upon the sand she marveled at the degree to which the beach had
been flattened and pockmarked by billions of tiny raindrops. It
looked like the moon. She had heard that there was a sea on the
moon and wondered if it looked anything like this. But the Sea of
Tranquillity was no sea. It was a lava-flooded downwarped plain
hundreds of miles wide and unmoving.
She turned her back to the water and took in the lights of the city.
Somehow all these people had collectively consented to squeeze into
such a place. Nature was often awful, none more so than at that
moment, but to her the city seemed worse.
Turning back around she found herself face to face with a
silhouette reaching for her. It was too dark to see the face and the
storm too loud to hear the voice, but she knew this was not robbery.
Except for one obvious escape, there was nowhere to run. She pushed
away and fled towards the surf, her pursuer grunting and shouting
only yards behind.
Under the frigid black Pacific she swam erratically, trying to lose
the predator. Bringing her mouth to the surface only when she
needed to draw in a sharp breath, she was able to remain hidden in
the water for considerable time. She swam frantically up the coast ,
about a hundred yards, until she decided she could take no more,
stumbled out of the cold cloak of the sea and collapsed upon the
sand. Her shivering was so outrageous she could not stand up.
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