Sentinels

[EdgedThesis]

.....The sky was split in half with lightning. Jagged lines of bright,

 

eye-searing blue struck the horizon in the distance, each with a thunderous crack! The

 

display of light and fire was muffled and darkened only by the tattered gray clouds, the deafening

 

howl of the wind, and the all-encompassing blanket of cold rain.

 

.....In the chaos and darkness, there existed a small band of yellow and

 

orange light. It was a city, forming what seemed like a bright barrier that would shield refugees

 

from the storm. On either side of the city stood a humongous pillar of concrete and glass,

 

reaching up towards the flowing gray of the sky above. They loomed above all other edifices like

 

dark sentinelsthe watchers and protectors of all the tiny pin[puncture]s of light that lay beneath

 

them.

 

.....The eerie, high pitched shriek of the wind as it rushed through the

 

corridors of the city picked up. Tear-shaped raindrops fell with a soft pitter-patter, creating a

 

solemn, sorrowful beat that echoed throughout the city streets and played upon the rooftops.

 

Curiously, the sound of two footsteps joined this collection of beatsthe only noises that dared

 

to intrude upon natures discordant music. They came from the skyscrapers on the western and

 

eastern sides of the city, almost simultaneously.

 

.....One set consisted of the hard clacking of business shoes. The

 

footfalls abruptly stopped, accompanied by the hollow flap of a black umbrella. The owner of

 

both the shoes and the umbrella adjusted his glasses with a single gloved finger. It was The

 

Scientist, enigmatic owner of the Western Skyscraper, dressed as impeccably as usual. The

 

young man, sporting a five oclock shadow, then continued to the edge of his roof, taking in the

 

vista of brilliant light that was his city. He then looked up, to the rooftops of his buildings eastern

 

counterpart, as if expecting to see someone.

 

.....His eyes met yet another pair of eyes, the two gazes blasting into

 

each other like beams of pure animosity. The older, more wrinkled pair softened and looked away,

 

becoming more focused on the water seeping into the white robes of its owner. The Clergyman,

 

the bleached cloth of his dress flapping ceaselessly about in the wind, too walked to the edge of

 

his roof to glance down upon his city.

 

.....A frown framed his leathery face, enough to counter the angry scowl

 

of The Scientist. Both of them had exit the safety of their homes for a reasonmen such as

 

these do not simply walk into the freezing rain out of pleasure. The angry and depressed

 

contortions of their faces were then justified: a single siren rang out over every rooftop, almost

 

giving crescendo to the cacophony of the wind and rain. Then came the blackout. Every single

 

light winked out with a metallic thump, all except a tiny glint upon the Eastern Skyscraper.

 

It was an oil lantern, held aloft by The Clergyman. It was blown out after minutes, but the old

 

man refused to let it die. It was once again burningonly to be extinguished once more. The

 

Clergyman again revived it.

 

.....The Scientist, now standing in darkness, saw this exercise in futility.

 

Foolish old man, he thought. He closed his eyes, and though his glasses began to slip off of

 

his rain-slicked nose, he did not push them up again. It fell with the characteristic tinkle of broken

 

glass. The sirens grew louder now, the long notes now overwhelming the banshee-like screams of

 

the wind. He simply thought. How do we get out of this problem? How can the city be saved?

 

Millions of questions ran through his mind. None of them were answered. But still, he kept

 

thinking. He would defeat this. The crisis would not overwhelm his mind.

 

.....The Clergyman, shielding his lantern with his hands, kneeled down and

 

began to whisper. The quiet wisps of voice that escaped his lips wafted over the city like ghosts.

 

He prayed.

 

.....The Scientist saw the kneeling white figure in the distance, and

 

scoffed. He promptly returned to his meditation and search for answers. Sweat mingled with the

 

rain as they both slid down his forehead.

 

.....Suddenly, the lightning stopped. The thunder ceased its erratic

 

drumbeat. The pitter-pattering of the rain was silenced. Yet, the siren still rang out in the midst

 

of the dead quiet. Both eyes, wrinkled and young, looked towards the sky. A single black oval,

 

trailing flame and smoke, burst through the clouds above the center of the city.

 

.....The Scientists forehead was folded and distorted in frustration. His

 

mind worked furiously.

 

.....The Clergyman had an air of calm, his white robes gently rippling

 

around his aging frame. His mouth bent into an acknowledging smile.

 

.....The black oval whistled down towards the cityscape, riding the winds

 

like a flaming horseman. The silencing quality of the dark comet was like that of Death himself.

 

.....The mouth of The Scientist opened in an exhausted gasp while The

 

Clergymen let out a knowing laugh.

 

.....Crack!

 

.....In a deafening wave of thunder no man had ever heard before, the

 

missile hit the city. In a flash of lightning that had never before been seen, it released its inner

 

fire. Every ear was deaf and every eye was blindno one could see the black mushroom cloud of

 

the bomb leap forth from the ground to join the clouds. No one saw that, for a moment, all the

 

concrete, glass, and steel of the city were like liquidthey rippled outwards from the explosion in

 

successive waves of destruction. A wall of fire swept over every building.

 

.....The faces of the men upon their sentinel-like skyscrapers were

 

charred into permanence:

 

.....A blackened charcoal smile lay amongst shreds of white cloth. Next to

 

shattered glass and pieces of black umbrella, there was an expression of absolute fear.

 

 

 

Kabir

 

 

 

 

 

'Tis a Parable. The message is obvious, but hey. Was fun to write. Did this for an AP English assignment.

[Wongtong]

:thumbup:

 

You have an excellent way of weaving everything together, and your descriptive language is great. -jealous-