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20:54
The city of Circruis placed itself above many, a land of tall buildings occupied by tall people, all wishing the same end.
The largest of the buildings, the Central Stance, which stood at the very centre of Circruis, overlooking the whole city, while tight-necked wannabes waited with thin nails at the ground floor.
At the first floor, was maintenance... installing new graphics cards and fixing the printers. Often they had tried to escape to higher places using the maintenance lift, through which the broken hardware had been sent to them... but often, they would end up little more than tears and broken bones, and were thrown out of the windows.
And so on up the lift of life, as the ground floor liked to refer to it as... the trip to a better world. All sitting around wondering when they'd hear the ping again, and one would be chosen to join the programmers and accountants.
And what stood at the very peak of this building, where the workers were catagorised? His name was Ellias Macavoy, Life magazine cover record holder for the seventh year running. Nobody was more important than him. He ruled the world, viewing people like ants, running around, they mattered not.
He was wise, he was rich, he was married. One child, boy, Peter. Bought up with everything he could ask for. They lived in a the floor directly below him, with all they could ever want.
But for all he had in the world, there was something he did not have. An answer to a question that had made him wonder for a long time, a very long time.
Ellias had explored Central Stance, his building that stood so tall in the middle of Circruis. He saw his accountants, his cooks, the artists that provided his hallways with thought-provoking eye time. Only he could activate the lift to his desires... his keycard that allowed him to choose the floor, instead of just allowing it to take you, randomly. As was life, get off when you feel it's right.
Deep beneath the trembling and excited children of the ground floor, a man did sleep. Ellias found him, far below the building that swayed in the wind but would never fall. He grew no beard, his hair never frayed but lay straight on his head whilst he slept. Ellias moved to awake him, to ask him why he did so sleep so low beneath the world above him, but he felt afraid.
There was something about this man that felt as if he shouldn't be waken. A strange noise, as if his parents were nagging him to go and wash his face all over again. Don't wake him, let him sleep.
Ellias pondered over the man he had found all that while ago. He visited him almost everyday... hoping one day, he would be awake, and at last, he could ask that question. Why? Why, after every man and women desired to climb higher and higher... did he feel he was obliged to stay in the basement?
Numbers flashed before him as he travelled lower and lower down into the depths of the building... looking out the small windows of the doors, watching the men and women that occupied each floor slashing and biting their way so they could be the first to the door when it opened.
But it didn't. Friends would soon be lost as Ellias fell deeper into the building, before finally opening to the sight of where the sleeping man did once lay.
But he had slept no longer, and simply stood before Ellias as he opened the door.
Ellias said little, shocked by his awakening. He invited him into the lift, and asked him to join him, to ride to the top.
At first it looked like the man was about to decline, but he changed his mind, and joined Ellias in the lift.
The window would show the results of broken promises to lost friends once more. Ellias watched in horror as another was killed right before his eyes... but he had learned a long time ago, never stop. Never open the door.
Ellias welcomed the man to the top, and showed him his life.
The man looked around, watched the ant shaped lives of so many different layers tumble and twist under the shadows of the tall buildings that lined the city and it's horizon.
The man opened a large window, and looked out over a balcony. Ellias watched, as the man climbed up and over the balcony, and as he began to run to stop him, he jumped.
Ellias looked over the edge, searching frantically for the man. He had slid down a window, his suicide failed, and laid on the balcony of a few floors below, unable to move.
Ellias ran for the lift, pressed the button for the floor on which the man had landed frantically...
The doors opened to a rush of men and women, all shoving and punching and kicking and stabbing.
Ellias called out, shouting and pleading for them to let him out... he just needed to speak to the man, the man that had slept at the basement of his building, ignored the lift, ignored the way of life.
But the crowds pushed through. Ellias was thrown to the ground in the lift, a woman was thrown onto him, dead.
He pushed her off, scrambling for the doors that kept trying to shut on the dead legs of the many people that were forcing their way through. Ellias crawled through, and tried to stand. The screams of the men and women that were crushed to death under the pressure ringed through his ears as he climbed to his feet.
But he was punched in the face, and fell back against a wall. A man rushed towards him, and stabbed him in the chest. He cried out in pain as more and more people tried to cram onto the lift.
The keycard was ripped from Ellias's side, his trousers on which it was attached torn. Men and women poured onto the lift, the man with the keycard was stabbed with a piece of glass, and another man stole the keycard.
Ellias, clutching his chest, crawled towards the balcony, where the man still lay. More men and women stood on him, trampling him, and broke his hand as they rushed for the lift.
And at once, the lift began to give way, and the wire snapped.
Only screams echoed instead of pings, and the members of the lower levels didn't fight, but watched, emotionless, as the lift plummeted to the depths of the building, crashing down into the basement. At once, they began to try prying open the doors, and began to climb the wires that still hung, with no fear of a lift crushing them as they climbed.
Ellias slammed against the glass door with all his might, smashing the glass, and cutting his face... he didn't care, he knew he was going to die, there was no stopping that now, he just needed to know. This man... this man that defied all that humanity had lived for, all that they fought for...
He climbed next to the man's body, and asked if he was ok. The man said he was.
Ellias starred out into the sky for a while, watching the birds and the clouds, instead of the ants and the cars... it was a beautiful change.
Ellias asked the man... why? Why did he stay in the basement, while all the others tried to climb as far as they could?
Because it was quiet, the man answered.
Ellias smiled, looked at the lift, to watch the men and women desperatly trying to climb the wires, and his heart stopped beating.
The city of Circruis placed itself above many, a land of tall buildings occupied by tall people, all wishing the same end.
The largest of the buildings, the Central Stance, which stood at the very centre of Circruis, overlooking the whole city, while tight-necked wannabes waited with thin nails at the ground floor.
At the first floor, was maintenance... installing new graphics cards and fixing the printers. Often they had tried to escape to higher places using the maintenance lift, through which the broken hardware had been sent to them... but often, they would end up little more than tears and broken bones, and were thrown out of the windows.
And so on up the lift of life, as the ground floor liked to refer to it as... the trip to a better world. All sitting around wondering when they'd hear the ping again, and one would be chosen to join the programmers and accountants.
And what stood at the very peak of this building, where the workers were catagorised? His name was Ellias Macavoy, Life magazine cover record holder for the seventh year running. Nobody was more important than him. He ruled the world, viewing people like ants, running around, they mattered not.
He was wise, he was rich, he was married. One child, boy, Peter. Bought up with everything he could ask for. They lived in a the floor directly below him, with all they could ever want.
But for all he had in the world, there was something he did not have. An answer to a question that had made him wonder for a long time, a very long time.
Ellias had explored Central Stance, his building that stood so tall in the middle of Circruis. He saw his accountants, his cooks, the artists that provided his hallways with thought-provoking eye time. Only he could activate the lift to his desires... his keycard that allowed him to choose the floor, instead of just allowing it to take you, randomly. As was life, get off when you feel it's right.
Deep beneath the trembling and excited children of the ground floor, a man did sleep. Ellias found him, far below the building that swayed in the wind but would never fall. He grew no beard, his hair never frayed but lay straight on his head whilst he slept. Ellias moved to awake him, to ask him why he did so sleep so low beneath the world above him, but he felt afraid.
There was something about this man that felt as if he shouldn't be waken. A strange noise, as if his parents were nagging him to go and wash his face all over again. Don't wake him, let him sleep.
Ellias pondered over the man he had found all that while ago. He visited him almost everyday... hoping one day, he would be awake, and at last, he could ask that question. Why? Why, after every man and women desired to climb higher and higher... did he feel he was obliged to stay in the basement?
Numbers flashed before him as he travelled lower and lower down into the depths of the building... looking out the small windows of the doors, watching the men and women that occupied each floor slashing and biting their way so they could be the first to the door when it opened.
But it didn't. Friends would soon be lost as Ellias fell deeper into the building, before finally opening to the sight of where the sleeping man did once lay.
But he had slept no longer, and simply stood before Ellias as he opened the door.
Ellias said little, shocked by his awakening. He invited him into the lift, and asked him to join him, to ride to the top.
At first it looked like the man was about to decline, but he changed his mind, and joined Ellias in the lift.
The window would show the results of broken promises to lost friends once more. Ellias watched in horror as another was killed right before his eyes... but he had learned a long time ago, never stop. Never open the door.
Ellias welcomed the man to the top, and showed him his life.
The man looked around, watched the ant shaped lives of so many different layers tumble and twist under the shadows of the tall buildings that lined the city and it's horizon.
The man opened a large window, and looked out over a balcony. Ellias watched, as the man climbed up and over the balcony, and as he began to run to stop him, he jumped.
Ellias looked over the edge, searching frantically for the man. He had slid down a window, his suicide failed, and laid on the balcony of a few floors below, unable to move.
Ellias ran for the lift, pressed the button for the floor on which the man had landed frantically...
The doors opened to a rush of men and women, all shoving and punching and kicking and stabbing.
Ellias called out, shouting and pleading for them to let him out... he just needed to speak to the man, the man that had slept at the basement of his building, ignored the lift, ignored the way of life.
But the crowds pushed through. Ellias was thrown to the ground in the lift, a woman was thrown onto him, dead.
He pushed her off, scrambling for the doors that kept trying to shut on the dead legs of the many people that were forcing their way through. Ellias crawled through, and tried to stand. The screams of the men and women that were crushed to death under the pressure ringed through his ears as he climbed to his feet.
But he was punched in the face, and fell back against a wall. A man rushed towards him, and stabbed him in the chest. He cried out in pain as more and more people tried to cram onto the lift.
The keycard was ripped from Ellias's side, his trousers on which it was attached torn. Men and women poured onto the lift, the man with the keycard was stabbed with a piece of glass, and another man stole the keycard.
Ellias, clutching his chest, crawled towards the balcony, where the man still lay. More men and women stood on him, trampling him, and broke his hand as they rushed for the lift.
And at once, the lift began to give way, and the wire snapped.
Only screams echoed instead of pings, and the members of the lower levels didn't fight, but watched, emotionless, as the lift plummeted to the depths of the building, crashing down into the basement. At once, they began to try prying open the doors, and began to climb the wires that still hung, with no fear of a lift crushing them as they climbed.
Ellias slammed against the glass door with all his might, smashing the glass, and cutting his face... he didn't care, he knew he was going to die, there was no stopping that now, he just needed to know. This man... this man that defied all that humanity had lived for, all that they fought for...
He climbed next to the man's body, and asked if he was ok. The man said he was.
Ellias starred out into the sky for a while, watching the birds and the clouds, instead of the ants and the cars... it was a beautiful change.
Ellias asked the man... why? Why did he stay in the basement, while all the others tried to climb as far as they could?
Because it was quiet, the man answered.
Ellias smiled, looked at the lift, to watch the men and women desperatly trying to climb the wires, and his heart stopped beating.
Mr Happy, you should post that poem in a topic of it's own. It is a very good poem. Maybe I'll write a story today... seems everyones in that kind of mood recently....
That was undeniably brilliant and if words sprang to mind I would say them...
Do you ever think that human beings are strange creatures, with our customs and our rituals? All in the rat race and all locked up in strange conventions... It's like actually looking at a word for the first time, even though you've said it a million times, and realising how strange it is. I am rambling enigmatically but it's how I'm thinking at the moment.
The man at the top, Ellias, makes me think of God, looking down on us all. I am going to share with you a poem, if I can find it, that I wrote on September the 11th, which involves God on the top floor of a building, because that's how I imagine him:
God is Dead
A burning fuselage of Allah's righteous anger
Buried in a building on the eighty-second floor.
Those heavenly flames resemble hell
While angels spiral to the ground below
With their severed wings afire.
The top floor stands triumphant on
a burning, breaking base
That could be all humanity
For all our wretched faith.
The Managing Director views the world below
His children's petty playthings have destroyed the world he knows
Atop the flaming tower he turns his head away
Neitzsche was wrong: God was not dead
We killed him off today.
Do you ever think that human beings are strange creatures, with our customs and our rituals? All in the rat race and all locked up in strange conventions... It's like actually looking at a word for the first time, even though you've said it a million times, and realising how strange it is. I am rambling enigmatically but it's how I'm thinking at the moment.
The man at the top, Ellias, makes me think of God, looking down on us all. I am going to share with you a poem, if I can find it, that I wrote on September the 11th, which involves God on the top floor of a building, because that's how I imagine him:
God is Dead
A burning fuselage of Allah's righteous anger
Buried in a building on the eighty-second floor.
Those heavenly flames resemble hell
While angels spiral to the ground below
With their severed wings afire.
The top floor stands triumphant on
a burning, breaking base
That could be all humanity
For all our wretched faith.
The Managing Director views the world below
His children's petty playthings have destroyed the world he knows
Atop the flaming tower he turns his head away
Neitzsche was wrong: God was not dead
We killed him off today.
That was interesting... I think I understood what you were trying to ay (although saying that is a dangerous statement... especially this late :D)
Anyhoo good story.
Anyhoo good story.
20:54
The city of Circruis placed itself above many, a land of tall buildings occupied by tall people, all wishing the same end.
The largest of the buildings, the Central Stance, which stood at the very centre of Circruis, overlooking the whole city, while tight-necked wannabes waited with thin nails at the ground floor.
At the first floor, was maintenance... installing new graphics cards and fixing the printers. Often they had tried to escape to higher places using the maintenance lift, through which the broken hardware had been sent to them... but often, they would end up little more than tears and broken bones, and were thrown out of the windows.
And so on up the lift of life, as the ground floor liked to refer to it as... the trip to a better world. All sitting around wondering when they'd hear the ping again, and one would be chosen to join the programmers and accountants.
And what stood at the very peak of this building, where the workers were catagorised? His name was Ellias Macavoy, Life magazine cover record holder for the seventh year running. Nobody was more important than him. He ruled the world, viewing people like ants, running around, they mattered not.
He was wise, he was rich, he was married. One child, boy, Peter. Bought up with everything he could ask for. They lived in a the floor directly below him, with all they could ever want.
But for all he had in the world, there was something he did not have. An answer to a question that had made him wonder for a long time, a very long time.
Ellias had explored Central Stance, his building that stood so tall in the middle of Circruis. He saw his accountants, his cooks, the artists that provided his hallways with thought-provoking eye time. Only he could activate the lift to his desires... his keycard that allowed him to choose the floor, instead of just allowing it to take you, randomly. As was life, get off when you feel it's right.
Deep beneath the trembling and excited children of the ground floor, a man did sleep. Ellias found him, far below the building that swayed in the wind but would never fall. He grew no beard, his hair never frayed but lay straight on his head whilst he slept. Ellias moved to awake him, to ask him why he did so sleep so low beneath the world above him, but he felt afraid.
There was something about this man that felt as if he shouldn't be waken. A strange noise, as if his parents were nagging him to go and wash his face all over again. Don't wake him, let him sleep.
Ellias pondered over the man he had found all that while ago. He visited him almost everyday... hoping one day, he would be awake, and at last, he could ask that question. Why? Why, after every man and women desired to climb higher and higher... did he feel he was obliged to stay in the basement?
Numbers flashed before him as he travelled lower and lower down into the depths of the building... looking out the small windows of the doors, watching the men and women that occupied each floor slashing and biting their way so they could be the first to the door when it opened.
But it didn't. Friends would soon be lost as Ellias fell deeper into the building, before finally opening to the sight of where the sleeping man did once lay.
But he had slept no longer, and simply stood before Ellias as he opened the door.
Ellias said little, shocked by his awakening. He invited him into the lift, and asked him to join him, to ride to the top.
At first it looked like the man was about to decline, but he changed his mind, and joined Ellias in the lift.
The window would show the results of broken promises to lost friends once more. Ellias watched in horror as another was killed right before his eyes... but he had learned a long time ago, never stop. Never open the door.
Ellias welcomed the man to the top, and showed him his life.
The man looked around, watched the ant shaped lives of so many different layers tumble and twist under the shadows of the tall buildings that lined the city and it's horizon.
The man opened a large window, and looked out over a balcony. Ellias watched, as the man climbed up and over the balcony, and as he began to run to stop him, he jumped.
Ellias looked over the edge, searching frantically for the man. He had slid down a window, his suicide failed, and laid on the balcony of a few floors below, unable to move.
Ellias ran for the lift, pressed the button for the floor on which the man had landed frantically...
The doors opened to a rush of men and women, all shoving and punching and kicking and stabbing.
Ellias called out, shouting and pleading for them to let him out... he just needed to speak to the man, the man that had slept at the basement of his building, ignored the lift, ignored the way of life.
But the crowds pushed through. Ellias was thrown to the ground in the lift, a woman was thrown onto him, dead.
He pushed her off, scrambling for the doors that kept trying to shut on the dead legs of the many people that were forcing their way through. Ellias crawled through, and tried to stand. The screams of the men and women that were crushed to death under the pressure ringed through his ears as he climbed to his feet.
But he was punched in the face, and fell back against a wall. A man rushed towards him, and stabbed him in the chest. He cried out in pain as more and more people tried to cram onto the lift.
The keycard was ripped from Ellias's side, his trousers on which it was attached torn. Men and women poured onto the lift, the man with the keycard was stabbed with a piece of glass, and another man stole the keycard.
Ellias, clutching his chest, crawled towards the balcony, where the man still lay. More men and women stood on him, trampling him, and broke his hand as they rushed for the lift.
And at once, the lift began to give way, and the wire snapped.
Only screams echoed instead of pings, and the members of the lower levels didn't fight, but watched, emotionless, as the lift plummeted to the depths of the building, crashing down into the basement. At once, they began to try prying open the doors, and began to climb the wires that still hung, with no fear of a lift crushing them as they climbed.
Ellias slammed against the glass door with all his might, smashing the glass, and cutting his face... he didn't care, he knew he was going to die, there was no stopping that now, he just needed to know. This man... this man that defied all that humanity had lived for, all that they fought for...
He climbed next to the man's body, and asked if he was ok. The man said he was.
Ellias starred out into the sky for a while, watching the birds and the clouds, instead of the ants and the cars... it was a beautiful change.
Ellias asked the man... why? Why did he stay in the basement, while all the others tried to climb as far as they could?
Because it was quiet, the man answered.
Ellias smiled, looked at the lift, to watch the men and women desperatly trying to climb the wires, and his heart stopped beating.
The city of Circruis placed itself above many, a land of tall buildings occupied by tall people, all wishing the same end.
The largest of the buildings, the Central Stance, which stood at the very centre of Circruis, overlooking the whole city, while tight-necked wannabes waited with thin nails at the ground floor.
At the first floor, was maintenance... installing new graphics cards and fixing the printers. Often they had tried to escape to higher places using the maintenance lift, through which the broken hardware had been sent to them... but often, they would end up little more than tears and broken bones, and were thrown out of the windows.
And so on up the lift of life, as the ground floor liked to refer to it as... the trip to a better world. All sitting around wondering when they'd hear the ping again, and one would be chosen to join the programmers and accountants.
And what stood at the very peak of this building, where the workers were catagorised? His name was Ellias Macavoy, Life magazine cover record holder for the seventh year running. Nobody was more important than him. He ruled the world, viewing people like ants, running around, they mattered not.
He was wise, he was rich, he was married. One child, boy, Peter. Bought up with everything he could ask for. They lived in a the floor directly below him, with all they could ever want.
But for all he had in the world, there was something he did not have. An answer to a question that had made him wonder for a long time, a very long time.
Ellias had explored Central Stance, his building that stood so tall in the middle of Circruis. He saw his accountants, his cooks, the artists that provided his hallways with thought-provoking eye time. Only he could activate the lift to his desires... his keycard that allowed him to choose the floor, instead of just allowing it to take you, randomly. As was life, get off when you feel it's right.
Deep beneath the trembling and excited children of the ground floor, a man did sleep. Ellias found him, far below the building that swayed in the wind but would never fall. He grew no beard, his hair never frayed but lay straight on his head whilst he slept. Ellias moved to awake him, to ask him why he did so sleep so low beneath the world above him, but he felt afraid.
There was something about this man that felt as if he shouldn't be waken. A strange noise, as if his parents were nagging him to go and wash his face all over again. Don't wake him, let him sleep.
Ellias pondered over the man he had found all that while ago. He visited him almost everyday... hoping one day, he would be awake, and at last, he could ask that question. Why? Why, after every man and women desired to climb higher and higher... did he feel he was obliged to stay in the basement?
Numbers flashed before him as he travelled lower and lower down into the depths of the building... looking out the small windows of the doors, watching the men and women that occupied each floor slashing and biting their way so they could be the first to the door when it opened.
But it didn't. Friends would soon be lost as Ellias fell deeper into the building, before finally opening to the sight of where the sleeping man did once lay.
But he had slept no longer, and simply stood before Ellias as he opened the door.
Ellias said little, shocked by his awakening. He invited him into the lift, and asked him to join him, to ride to the top.
At first it looked like the man was about to decline, but he changed his mind, and joined Ellias in the lift.
The window would show the results of broken promises to lost friends once more. Ellias watched in horror as another was killed right before his eyes... but he had learned a long time ago, never stop. Never open the door.
Ellias welcomed the man to the top, and showed him his life.
The man looked around, watched the ant shaped lives of so many different layers tumble and twist under the shadows of the tall buildings that lined the city and it's horizon.
The man opened a large window, and looked out over a balcony. Ellias watched, as the man climbed up and over the balcony, and as he began to run to stop him, he jumped.
Ellias looked over the edge, searching frantically for the man. He had slid down a window, his suicide failed, and laid on the balcony of a few floors below, unable to move.
Ellias ran for the lift, pressed the button for the floor on which the man had landed frantically...
The doors opened to a rush of men and women, all shoving and punching and kicking and stabbing.
Ellias called out, shouting and pleading for them to let him out... he just needed to speak to the man, the man that had slept at the basement of his building, ignored the lift, ignored the way of life.
But the crowds pushed through. Ellias was thrown to the ground in the lift, a woman was thrown onto him, dead.
He pushed her off, scrambling for the doors that kept trying to shut on the dead legs of the many people that were forcing their way through. Ellias crawled through, and tried to stand. The screams of the men and women that were crushed to death under the pressure ringed through his ears as he climbed to his feet.
But he was punched in the face, and fell back against a wall. A man rushed towards him, and stabbed him in the chest. He cried out in pain as more and more people tried to cram onto the lift.
The keycard was ripped from Ellias's side, his trousers on which it was attached torn. Men and women poured onto the lift, the man with the keycard was stabbed with a piece of glass, and another man stole the keycard.
Ellias, clutching his chest, crawled towards the balcony, where the man still lay. More men and women stood on him, trampling him, and broke his hand as they rushed for the lift.
And at once, the lift began to give way, and the wire snapped.
Only screams echoed instead of pings, and the members of the lower levels didn't fight, but watched, emotionless, as the lift plummeted to the depths of the building, crashing down into the basement. At once, they began to try prying open the doors, and began to climb the wires that still hung, with no fear of a lift crushing them as they climbed.
Ellias slammed against the glass door with all his might, smashing the glass, and cutting his face... he didn't care, he knew he was going to die, there was no stopping that now, he just needed to know. This man... this man that defied all that humanity had lived for, all that they fought for...
He climbed next to the man's body, and asked if he was ok. The man said he was.
Ellias starred out into the sky for a while, watching the birds and the clouds, instead of the ants and the cars... it was a beautiful change.
Ellias asked the man... why? Why did he stay in the basement, while all the others tried to climb as far as they could?
Because it was quiet, the man answered.
Ellias smiled, looked at the lift, to watch the men and women desperatly trying to climb the wires, and his heart stopped beating.