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The Little Fish

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The Little Fish

Postby johnwalkeasy » Sat Sep 08, 2007 10:04 pm

I think the one I love seen me as I tried to move out of her sight. Her head truns back to the other mermaids as I peek from behind the rock. I watch her as she sits and laughs while she makes small talk with the other mermaids. They sit and
brush thier beautiful hair as it waves in the blue water.
I come here often. I swim from far away to hide and watch these beautiful mermaids.
They all know I am here peeking at them. They know I come here and hide and watch. I love this place. But now I must go.
I will have to leave these warm blue waters. I will swim back into the dark and deep cold waters where I live. I will come back from time to time to look at her. I know she could never love one such as me.
An unimportant little fish.

This day I will have to spend with another. The one that hurts me. I hate him. He makes me go with him. I fear if I do not, he will kill me.
He is evil. He is a monster. He is not a weak little fish such as I. But a powerful killer.
His long smooth body. Deep black eyes. Teeth like steel daggers. A killer among killers. He drinks the blood of his victims. He has come from the pits of hell to
bring death and horror to all he sees.
He is a Barracuda.

He makes me go with him and watch as he kills and
brings his evil and horror into the sea. He makes me smell the red blood that pours in the waves of water as his poor victims lay weeping and dieing. If only I was not such a little weak fish. I would try to find a way to put an end to him. The evil, the horror. But I am in deaths fear of him.

Today we seem to be in waters we have never been in before.
We are going further than ever before. And then I knew.
We are in the warm blue waters. We are going to a place I know.
O my God. We have come to the home of my beautiful mermaids.

What has God done to me now. Will I have to watch this monster from hell as he kills my mermaids. How can God let this happen. How can he look down into this sea. And allow this evil,
brutal, abomination to murder these beautiful creatures. Will I be weeping in the blood of the ones I love.
What can I do. Why do I have to be so small, so weak, so in fear. Is There is no way I can stop him.

I Strike.

Red Wine fills the sea.
He truns for a vicious counter attack.

He Strikes.

I find myseft falling down though the water.
He truns back towars the mermaids.
I regain myseft.
I go after him. I get to him fast. I swim above him. I head down toward him.

I Strike. Red wine.

He falls under me. He trys to get away from me. I go after him.

I Strike.Red Wine.

He truns for another vicious counter attack. But I,m faster. I move out of his way. He misses me.

I Strike. Red wine.

He trys to fight me off. But I,m stronger than him.

I Strike. Red wine.

I Strike. Red Wine.

I Strike.Red wine.

I strike, I Strike, I Strike, I Strike.

He falls to the sea floor with a trail of red wine pouring from every part of his dead body. Red sand flies up as what's left of his mangled body crashes into the sea floor. Red wine fills the waters.

I go to the home of the mermaids. They see me. They know me. But they look at me in a differnt way than before. I'm not hiding now. I swim among them. As I pass by one of them. I can see my reflection in a mirror in her hand. I stop. I ponder. I look at them.

I see fear and hopelessness in thier eyes. I swim close to one of them.
She is weeping.

I Strike. Red Wine.

I can feel her bones
brake into pieces as my jaws enclose her. I can taste her sweet flesh as the sea fills with her beautiful red blood. I swim fast to another.

I Strike. Red Wine.

They all try to swim away from me. But I am to fast.

I Strike. Red Wine.

I Strike. Red Wine.

I Strike. Red Wine.

Flesh, bone and red blood fills the sea around me. Weeping and screams of pain and horror. Is the beautiful music I make as I devour them.
Though the dark red water I see her. The one I love. I swim to her.
I stop. Our eyes are locked into a stare.

I Strike. Red Wine.

As her blood begins to fill the water. And with her dieing eyes she ask me.

Why...Why...

With the last bit of compasstion I would ever know. I answered her.

Because God has created me to do this. And it is God's work that I do.
I am not a mear little fish.

I am a Barracuda.

God,s Masterpiece.

A Magnificent Killing Machine.
Last edited by johnwalkeasy on Thu Jun 03, 2010 6:56 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Perfection is what drives an artist.
The inability to achieve perfection is what creates a work of art.
John A. Barandon
http://steelbronze.vpweb.com
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johnwalkeasy
 
Posts: 2648
Joined: Tue Jun 13, 2006 7:16 pm
Location: Rex, Georgia USA
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Postby johnwalkeasy » Sat May 29, 2010 9:33 pm

This is another story I worte a while back. But I revised it today.
Perfection is what drives an artist.
The inability to achieve perfection is what creates a work of art.
John A. Barandon
http://steelbronze.vpweb.com
User avatar
johnwalkeasy
 
Posts: 2648
Joined: Tue Jun 13, 2006 7:16 pm
Location: Rex, Georgia USA
Blog: View Blog (1)

Re: The Little Fish

Postby johnwalkeasy » Sat Jul 16, 2016 5:32 pm

Forgot about this little story.
Perfection is what drives an artist.
The inability to achieve perfection is what creates a work of art.
John A. Barandon
http://steelbronze.vpweb.com
User avatar
johnwalkeasy
 
Posts: 2648
Joined: Tue Jun 13, 2006 7:16 pm
Location: Rex, Georgia USA
Blog: View Blog (1)


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