A screen was there as high as me and as broad. And there he was in front of the screen, lying in his rags. His shirt must have been green, when it used to cover his frailty. His trousers were torn, and hair wiry. If it hadn’t been his placid sleep and a black scar on his cheek, he would be lost in generality. But he was different. He was a warrior, who had just won over a city. His armour impaired, body battered to the extreme. He must have been a kinsman of the king. As he wore the royal green and carried a slender physique. The dark stains on his lower explained how he slaughtered the militaries with his cavalry. And yes, the scar. The black scar outlined the final battles with the mighty, and long journey from the murky and dusty land of atrocities. Anyone with even a slight fondness to fantasy could ponder into the warrior’s dreamless dreams on the screen, that was as high as me and as broad.

08/26/2012

Posted on 09/24/2012
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