Unfolding Carriage

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    U

    n

    f

    ding

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    UNFOLDINGCARRIAGE

    written

    and

    designed by

    JoshMakinda

    * PERTH *

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    This book is dedicated to the x,y end point

    of the lilac soaked threadthat connects my heart with hers.

    A valentines apart, a thread much tighter...

    ...

    Summary: For Mischa.

    - Josh

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    Unfolding Carriage

    A rich crimson eruption bellowed, its scintillating core innatelyinclined to a cobalt blue. It tumbled forth and bore its dynamic chest,across a glittering black and silent backdrop, before swiftly retreatingto a thin translucent wisp, blinking its eyes in and out of existence. Itsnoise had violently undulated and twirled itself outward only to beslowed by the volume of stillness and the frequency of dark. A momentprevious and one would have been able to gander upon this photon-tentacled burning sphere in all its ferocity and azure. Yet this time was

    not now, and instead this experience had promptly travelled away, forto remain stable would be to violate natural regulation. For in such anenvironment the word when meant there, and the word then lead towhere? How long ago was the eruption? Well quite simply just upahead, and travelling at an unprecedented pace.

    The light had expeditiously carried the experience away, time had

    unwound from all sides like a ball of thread being absentmindedlypinched apart. In front of that ray plummeted the earlier state, and thesubsequent to that held the visual circumstance of the event before. Thislight train rolled onward, across all routes, without transportmandates, each carriage harbouring the wondrous glow of the past, todive beyond them would be to see a delightfully animated reality inreverse, and in turn the sight of things getting better. To take sometime and dive even faster would be to take some time off. To nose-dive trillions of kilometres, billions of times faster than previous and

    many years of light in speed, would be to approach a relatively minutegreen protrusion upon which, among others, a couple, notably high-spirited, organic compounds lay atop.

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    Her hair sprawled across the grass as if trying to desperately hang on,the presence of moonlight could be seen as a blurred reflectionagainst her soft groupings of strands. Every time she giggled, her head

    wobbled just gently enough for her split ends to be used as skippingrope by some tiny black beetles. Both worlds, macro and micro, lit updazzlingly by her chuffed distributions.

    He lay chuckling next to her, his own hair nonexistent, though his headstill reflecting the moon off of it, and doing so quite sharply. His headwas very smooth, the kind of smoothness a group of shaved potatoeswould peer at and say...well...nothing potatoes lack speech. He neverhad time to change out of his gown, but could at least unbutton the topof it. Such seemingly worthless rebellion still proved fundamental in hisown sense of unshackling which is what tonight was about.

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    She had brought a change of clothes and they now expressed themselvesacross her horizontally. She didnt have the energy to loop her limbsthrough them therefore they lay flaccid against her, but that was enoughto exemplify what she wanted and more than enough to have them both

    chortling loudly. Below her golden flowery shell, her gown remained,but she committed to squinting just enough so as to obstruct it fromview. In this context it seemed wonder and awe grew in the oppositedirection, piling upward toward sky bound flickering specks, forgettingwhat was beneath, and hoping to capture whatever glowing fragmentfell from the heavens, whether crimson or blue.

    Both, he and her, stilled their skulls upon the cushion of earth beneaththeir occipital lobes. The soft lemon scented grass beneath them whichrose regularly, swept upward by the leaf-littered breeze, caressed thesides of their face as if voluntarily.

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    She continued to peer upward, as did he, both in awe of their currentcircumstance, exhaling deeply as if they had just birthed the child ofacquittal. Each of their eyes darted lightly across the interconnectedglow, naturally skipping over many of the tiny illuminations, yet

    desperately attempting to re-swipe their visions so as to not miss any ofthese eternal blessings. Such micro desperation though was fuelled notby external validation, but a delightful appreciation of what it meant toattempt to preserve a moment that was dynamic, only to realise that thenext instant was just as momentous as the previous.

    She saw beauty as evidence of only nature upon nature, expressed as it

    was.

    He saw beauty as evidence of God, expressed through nature intricatelyas natural processes.

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    She felt an emboldening emptiness being emitted from the brightsabove, a precociously adapted organic compound laying flat, staringupward, heart candle raised. The perpetual unfolding of a blinduniverse, caught within many, and from a nothingness as sweet as

    breath. A biological mechanism tumbling backward from out thismachine, a mechanism with no sight, nor desire, nor political coercion,carving out billions of self-maintainable minions, honed magnificentlyby the imbalance of natural circumstance. Where morality was notprescribed but considered, where life was a gift that unravelled itself incomplete darkness, which she then chose to resolve as beautiful. Shefound herself in an existential awe. Liberated. Excited.

    The soft strands of grass beneath him now stepped in on behalf of hishair vacancy, surrounding his cranium and causing the reminiscence oftimes more unkempt. The wisps of green, not only covered his heavingchest at this point, but had also begun to tug savagely upon the stringsof his heart. They had already caused nostalgia but were now bringingto the forefront of his awareness the deoxyribonucleic linkage they bothshared. In his experience everything seemed to be an algorithmfunctioning within the context of a smaller one, and onwards. Life, arecursive puzzle that unfolded at each step, facing frontward andbehind, flipping switches as it unwound toward a mystery clouded bylove. An alignment with the preset laws will get us closer to this cloud,the curiosity burned into us will be our direction, and a pre-programmed belief that we can figure it out, will be our maintenance.In his view, life was a daring adventure that many were too afraid tograb their shovel for, a beautiful universe unfolding for those that werebrave enough to cartwheel alongside it. There was a sobering peace in

    pain and ignorance when falling at the feet of a knowing creator. Lovewas tangible, not merely a set of electrical signals, but objectivelybound to our hearts beyond opinion, action or motive. Every rockcracked open trickled indication of our first ancestor, every organiccell disassembled demonstrated a celestial correlation. He foundhimself in an existential awe. Liberated. Excited.

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    Along the scale of unearthly worship, they had arrived at the sameindentation. Their path to that point remained in opposition, but theywore the same shoes and socks.

    The marble capsule that housed their sight unceasingly slid in alldirections, their pupils expanded widely at the command of both theirbiology and enlightenment.

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    He felt a bead of sweat tug its hind leg out from the ripple on hisforehead, sprawling out, exhausted, and awaiting evaporation. Suchdischarge did not occur on frosty evenings as this, aside from whenurgency was at work disrupting ones seesaw. His sense of time had

    slithered from vast to narrow, along this scale a globule of hisexperience existed, and inside it floated a violet coloured intention.The contraction of this range began to press against the globules blobbyouter sheath, eventually pinching to the forefront of his experience arequirement to act. The intention now balanced on the end of histongue, grasped desperately onto the rope of words that had not yetbeen said, for if it was to fall out now they would definitely toppleforth too. For he knew both their time here was limited, as they both

    were not very skilled at self-concealment.

    He looked at her first, she looked at him second, their hearts beat insync. Somewhere far away and across the dark seas, a harp gentlystrummed and its context was hijacked...

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    She looked upward, he followed her sight. The ancient light trickledpast their eyes and coiled tightly against the threads of their heart,sheathing them like the tiny ribs of a guitar string. The radiance offorthcoming was happening at every present, their souls were resolute in

    clambering up the light train, but a more elderly conductor sat on eachsubsequent carriage, knowing better than to allow them to see what wasto come.

    The circular noise of a government appointed public service vehicleechoed through their drums, with the crunching of leaves beneathridged boots being heard from just past the hills slope. Sticks breaking,

    footsteps halted and recalculated, the shrubbery doing whatever theycould to help.

    She slowly heaved a smile into position, but his determined yet sereneeyes aided it to the territory of involuntary.

    Both of their arms shot backward, and set in motion the trajectory oftwo separate wheelchairs. The shrubbery guided the aluminium spokeson course to collide with those that donned the rubber that wasincessant on crunching.

    She lugged herself to an upright seated.

    He did the same.

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    She rested her palm on the thigh of his gown, just below the protrusionthat could have been mistaken for something else. He slowly shifted

    himself toward her, his speed only impeded by the apologetic earthbelow. They both extended their arms to one another, struggled not totopple and knew such effort was a necessity in such a rarity.

    Her left eye quivered gently as a tear somersaulted out from it, itslinked down her cheek, and left a tasty path behind it.

    Their clinch got tighter, which worked in direct proportion to thevolume of the chomped leaves heard.

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    His mouth pressed against her lobe, and acted gatekeeper to any othersound that attempted to head in unauthorised.

    A foreign hand was placed upon his shoulder, which was just where theload bearing stood for his coloured intention, as it toppled out of hismouth into the abstracted shape of a whisper, ...I...love you.

    She instantly fired back ...me too. I mean not me. You know what Imean, a response so instantaneous and charged that one carriageconductor mistakenly slowed down confusing it for a quantum of light.

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    They were each carried across to the chair that displayed their name,the grass they had just allied with unable to let go of the moment viatheir backs. Each of their shoulders were softly patted, as the man thatwheeled both of them stooped his head to whisper softly ...If you ask

    me. Nothing wrong with a little bit of freedom guys...

    A moment earlier and one would have been able to gander upon a pairof elated and unconventional souls intertwining their crimsontentacles, producing cobalt sparks and outbursts. Their eyes glisteningfrom the light of the moon and the stars above, reflecting back ahybrid of their own enchantment along with the solar systems

    radiance. This moments photon-hybrid would have soared upwardwithout resistance, refracting against dust particles and makingastounding prisms for those at apt vantage points. Slicing through theatmosphere like a warm butter knife through a bubble, and stretchingwith perfect elasticity outward forever. This moment to be carried justas it was...forever. A train of delight, captured once and never again,unfolding forth into a reel toward the silence of the black, neverchanging, and ever magical.

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