Queejongg

2019-03-28 @Creative

Queejongg, a somewhat short, thin but malformed systems operator of an average and easily forgettable face showing signs of his early thirties, felt insurmountable melancholia on a bench at a city square as raindrops began to fall. One landed firmly on the tip of his slightly crooked nose, sliding lower along the contour of his nostrils until resting finally in the bushiness of his unkempt moustache.

He lowered the vision behind the unfashionably thick spectacles, involuntarily crossing his eyes in search of the point of impact, as if in suspense whether it was indeed a raindrop or a substance of a far less pleasant nature as an unfortunate bird dropping from the precarious tree heights. He sensed a mildly dumbing pressure between the eyebrows as his eyes rested in the unnatural position, straining to identify any foreign matter beyond the unfriendly curvature of his nose.

Before he could assert any abnormality, he sensed a burning sensation in the region. At first but a slight itch, within seconds the intensity amplified. Panic began to settle. He reached towards the spot until his fingers stroke something long and acute, prematurely in mid-course, far beyond the junction where he expected to find the nose. It felt a bit wiggly and malleable, to the likeness of an Aloe Vera stalk. His hand instinctively thrust backwards, as he began to feel the heart rate accelerating and a weight in his chest. Eyes still tensely crossed, he tried to desperately focus on this sudden obstruction only to realize that not only could he not place the subject in frame, but that his eyes had sunk further back towards the temples, making the task rather nearly impossible. Queejongg began to sense paralysis across the entire body. Panic now overwhelmed the senses. The heart raced furiously, the throat felt constricted, perspiration covered his skin. He wanted to scream. And yet, he could not emit but an odd grunt.

He opened his eyes, allowing the vision to focus. Total dusk. The still intense heart began to gradually stabilize. He tried to calm the nerves. The body still ached all over, something he never seemed to adapt to. Very slowly, he lifted his back and sat upright. The grass remained flat and crushed where the body had spread. For how long, he could never be certain. Looking around, the clothes were nowhere in sight as usual. Dove feathers disorderly lay scattered along the ground.

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