Monday, March 28, 2005

and now...a short (children's) story -- because this is the only thing i'm capable of writing

*no title yet*

Imagine if you can a world like our own, but not quite. Here, there are many things walking the world that we rarely, and almost never, see in ours. There are demons and devils, and spirits of every kind, there are animal gods, gods of every little thing, lesser gods and great gods; there are all kinds of beings, wraiths, ghosts, and creatures, both benevolent and malevolent. All these co-exist with this world’s humanity – a term in itself, subject to much debate and argument. The gods of this world are seen effortlessly and are not confined to the houses they are worshipped in, nor in the hearts and souls and whispered prayers of the devouts who serve them. This is a world where heaven and hell are simply a stairway and a pitfall away. Literally.

Erick Lackluster (whose life is not as dreary and dull as his name suggests) lives in his mother’s house located at the outskirts of this world’s largest city, Stairway. Standing on a hillside, not surprisingly solitary, the house is surrounded by a lush and beautiful garden filled with colorful flowers and vegetation of all sorts. It is quite odd that all the plants in this garden grew and blossomed well despite the fact that the house always had, literally and figuratively, a dark cloud over it.

Erick, as far as he can remember and as far as all the people he has encountered won’t make him forget, is considered to be the unluckiest young man in the world. He was born on the day the most vicious storm in recorded history wreaked havoc on the city. And despite the magnitude of the rain and wind bought by this storm, 13 buildings managed to catch fire and burn down, including portions of the very hospital he was born in. It can be said that he was accorded by the fates pure dumb luck by having as a father an inept, totally useless, unfaithful drunkard who abandoned him and his mother when he was but a year old.

Althroughout his childhood, Eric was a tormented soul. As far as all his endeavors went, he always ended up with the shortest straw in the lot, so to speak. He would always figure in all sorts of incidents and accidents that often leave, in its wake, mayhem and destruction. He would always be, year in year out, a slave to all the school’s toughest bullies. He would never escape being blamed for each and every prank done by the other kids simply because he is always at the wrong place, at the wrong time. This was the story of his life. He is sick of this story. He is sick of his life. And he is planning to do something about it.

“What?!?” Erick’s mother exclaimed.

“You heard me. I’m going to kill the god of bad luck.”

To be continued.


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