Chocobowill
SOLDIER
Enchanted Love
A Romance
A Romance
PLEASE READ!!!!!!!!!!!!
Feel free to join in at any time. This story will dig into Humor, Emotions, and a sense of going with the flow. Some Adult humor may be used I.E. Adult language, and content. Saying that, This is free for all fiction, therefore if you get emotional on certain subjects, i suggest you refrain from joining in. For example, there may be use of making fun, or what have you at religion, stereotypes, society etc... Having said that have fun with it, no stress here, i aim this to become a drama-comedy.
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Armayn drove his car around the block, parking in one of the secluded lots. He sighed heavily opening the door, putting on his sunglasses. The air was sticky, and smelled of dirt and flowers. He looked forward and saw a man sweeping leaves around the headstones. Reaching back in the car he grabs is brown fedora hat. He puts it on, slanting to the side as he usually does. Sheathing his sword, he slams the car door. over head a helicopter flies by rattling the ground.
" really? Are you serious? This is a graveyard...pricks"
Pacing forward he peers out on the open field. Graves as far as the eye can see. about fourteen rows down he stops. Looks around and in the near distance hears the man start sweeping again. Armayn thought to himself..how strange for a man to be here on sunday...strange indeed. His Brown trench coat flops in the wind and he spreads his arms to take full advantage of mothers gift. the breeze stops, reaching inside his coat he pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He sticks one in his pale pink lips and pulls out a zippo lighter.
Putting the lighter up to his lips he strikes it, only the wind extinguished the flame. He took in the wind once more, letting the wind play in his slicked back black hair. It ceased. Lighting the cigarette he proceeds down the fourteenth row. He stops and counts the graves. 1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..10..11..12..Since the past 4 years he has been coming here and there was never a ninth grave. No-one really knows why there isn't one, but sneaky suspicion says that someone came and robbed it, that's just rumor though. The twelfth, He looks down and and silence envelopes Armayn. The only sound was the wind and the creaking of the trees as it pounded against their flesh. A tear trickled down his cheek, swelling his eyes. The cigarette smoke twirled around him, as he wept in his sleeves. He got down to both knees, and started rubbing the headstone of dirt and debris. It was four years ago, His wife was killed by enemy occupation. Not only his wife but an unborn child still in the whom. He died that day when he got news.
Cleaning the remnants, he started talking out loud.
"Await me my love...my mission is almost done."
The headstone was pristine, and sparkled in the sunlight. Chips of ivory marble and onyx stood upright from the ground. It read:
Armayn began to weep again, eventually losing strength collapsing on the side of is crying. He dropped his cig, and left it to burn. Thirty minutes passed, and he got back up to finish his respects.
"sir?"
Startled Armayn turned and looked at the hunched over grave-keeper.
"May i help you?"
"No, i was just telling you we are about to close, and realized i havent seen you here before. Your Cloak flapped in the wind and in the sunlight, you looked as if you had angel wings, sent from heaven itself."
Armayn pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Drawing in he spoke.
" Angel huh?...why would an angel be in a grave yard?"
" Sir, im sorry but you cant smoke here"
"Oh yeah?"
" im going to have to ask you to leave."
Moving to the walkway Armayn took another draw and threw the cigarette on the ground, and headed to his car.
" Sir you didnt have to do that.."
" Oh ...I didnt, it was for me..."
"Asshole..."
Armayn, was out of hearing distance to hear the old man. He opened the car door and slid into the leather seats. Putting his shades back on, he turned on the radio blaring some grungy rock music. reaching in his coat again he pulls out a flask and takes a sip.
"AAAHHHHH, good ole scotch."
burning out He reeves the engine and speeds off. Singing along to the radio, he thinks to himself, why don't i stop by the metal pedal, and have myself a drink? With a smile on his face, he sped off into the sunset, leaving the dreary scene behind him.
Feel free to join in at any time. This story will dig into Humor, Emotions, and a sense of going with the flow. Some Adult humor may be used I.E. Adult language, and content. Saying that, This is free for all fiction, therefore if you get emotional on certain subjects, i suggest you refrain from joining in. For example, there may be use of making fun, or what have you at religion, stereotypes, society etc... Having said that have fun with it, no stress here, i aim this to become a drama-comedy.
..........................................................................................................
Armayn drove his car around the block, parking in one of the secluded lots. He sighed heavily opening the door, putting on his sunglasses. The air was sticky, and smelled of dirt and flowers. He looked forward and saw a man sweeping leaves around the headstones. Reaching back in the car he grabs is brown fedora hat. He puts it on, slanting to the side as he usually does. Sheathing his sword, he slams the car door. over head a helicopter flies by rattling the ground.
" really? Are you serious? This is a graveyard...pricks"
Pacing forward he peers out on the open field. Graves as far as the eye can see. about fourteen rows down he stops. Looks around and in the near distance hears the man start sweeping again. Armayn thought to himself..how strange for a man to be here on sunday...strange indeed. His Brown trench coat flops in the wind and he spreads his arms to take full advantage of mothers gift. the breeze stops, reaching inside his coat he pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He sticks one in his pale pink lips and pulls out a zippo lighter.
Putting the lighter up to his lips he strikes it, only the wind extinguished the flame. He took in the wind once more, letting the wind play in his slicked back black hair. It ceased. Lighting the cigarette he proceeds down the fourteenth row. He stops and counts the graves. 1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8..10..11..12..Since the past 4 years he has been coming here and there was never a ninth grave. No-one really knows why there isn't one, but sneaky suspicion says that someone came and robbed it, that's just rumor though. The twelfth, He looks down and and silence envelopes Armayn. The only sound was the wind and the creaking of the trees as it pounded against their flesh. A tear trickled down his cheek, swelling his eyes. The cigarette smoke twirled around him, as he wept in his sleeves. He got down to both knees, and started rubbing the headstone of dirt and debris. It was four years ago, His wife was killed by enemy occupation. Not only his wife but an unborn child still in the whom. He died that day when he got news.
Cleaning the remnants, he started talking out loud.
"Await me my love...my mission is almost done."
The headstone was pristine, and sparkled in the sunlight. Chips of ivory marble and onyx stood upright from the ground. It read:
Here Lies:
Marry Leahn Altor
Wife of Armayn Atlor
Daughter of Teressa, and Adam winstly
2018-2043(25yrs.)
Marry Leahn Altor
Wife of Armayn Atlor
Daughter of Teressa, and Adam winstly
2018-2043(25yrs.)
Armayn began to weep again, eventually losing strength collapsing on the side of is crying. He dropped his cig, and left it to burn. Thirty minutes passed, and he got back up to finish his respects.
"sir?"
Startled Armayn turned and looked at the hunched over grave-keeper.
"May i help you?"
"No, i was just telling you we are about to close, and realized i havent seen you here before. Your Cloak flapped in the wind and in the sunlight, you looked as if you had angel wings, sent from heaven itself."
Armayn pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Drawing in he spoke.
" Angel huh?...why would an angel be in a grave yard?"
" Sir, im sorry but you cant smoke here"
"Oh yeah?"
" im going to have to ask you to leave."
Moving to the walkway Armayn took another draw and threw the cigarette on the ground, and headed to his car.
" Sir you didnt have to do that.."
" Oh ...I didnt, it was for me..."
"Asshole..."
Armayn, was out of hearing distance to hear the old man. He opened the car door and slid into the leather seats. Putting his shades back on, he turned on the radio blaring some grungy rock music. reaching in his coat again he pulls out a flask and takes a sip.
"AAAHHHHH, good ole scotch."
burning out He reeves the engine and speeds off. Singing along to the radio, he thinks to himself, why don't i stop by the metal pedal, and have myself a drink? With a smile on his face, he sped off into the sunset, leaving the dreary scene behind him.
