For every joy, there is a price to be paid.
The only thing that is humiliating is helplessness.
ABASI
It was the early hours of the morning and Abasi had suddenly found the walls of the manor almost choking - far too closed in. Sometimes he missed dearly the open spaces and views of his desert home, the emphasis the architecture had placed on airflow. It seemed here buildings had been made with a million different ideas in mind, and hardly any of them had been achieved.
So he had come to the spot next to his morturary, with the tree and fledgling bushes. Some memory mud, probably pushed from the street, had settled around the base of the tree. He nudged it with his foot and noted that the shape he created seemed to look almost like a nose - before he had really thought of what he was doing, Abasi had bent down to push a mouth and two eyes into the mud too, thinking of the clay death masks he knew some cultures liked to use.
He tried to refine his little mud-face, pushing it about with his fingers to make ears and hair. He had never been an artist, but the small task gave him something to focus on in the rather boring and quiet hours of the morning. It was giving him an idea too, a way to use the mud, if it stayed around - he tried to draw a face shape around the features to see if he could pull the mud up.
So he had come to the spot next to his morturary, with the tree and fledgling bushes. Some memory mud, probably pushed from the street, had settled around the base of the tree. He nudged it with his foot and noted that the shape he created seemed to look almost like a nose - before he had really thought of what he was doing, Abasi had bent down to push a mouth and two eyes into the mud too, thinking of the clay death masks he knew some cultures liked to use.
He tried to refine his little mud-face, pushing it about with his fingers to make ears and hair. He had never been an artist, but the small task gave him something to focus on in the rather boring and quiet hours of the morning. It was giving him an idea too, a way to use the mud, if it stayed around - he tried to draw a face shape around the features to see if he could pull the mud up.
If his heart rules him,
his conscience will soon take the place of the rod.
Base Code by Sky!
