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Tribal Sector

by Zeffon

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Untitled 24:39
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Untitled 17:29

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Tribal Sector (Written March 12, 2016)

I hated him. Why didn’t he tell me that he was in danger? Johnny was dead. My uncle was dead. Life was dead. I hated everything.

I itched the pock marks on my arm. Without my knowledge, or anyone’s for the matter, the factory was experimenting on its own workers. I wished I could’ve been my knowledgeable of that at the time, but recovering from an involuntary drug high was preventing me from seeing the writing on the wall. I escaped the town I was in and walked to the outskirts, home to a large desert. Perhaps I would find some solace here.

After a long walk, I began to feel parched and hungry. I didn’t really care though. I had nothing else to live for. Naturally, I was surprised when I swore I saw a castle on the horizon. We didn’t have castles in this land. No one did. Yet there it was, staring me down. I decided to entertain the illusion by walking towards it.
During that journey, I thought about my uncle and his research, as well as poor John. John didn’t have the chance he should have had to live. He was definitely a nice guy. I looked back up. The castle was actually getting larger, something I wouldn’t expect from a mirage. Then I saw something else. A human perhaps? It was in a black cloak, and it silently began to limp in my direction. It scared me, but at the same time, I felt a gentle assurance that this figure was not malevolent. It introduced itself as it got close, and it had the voice of a woman. I realized that I recognized its voice. It was my mother’s.

A very emotion reunion took place. I had not seen my mother in years.

My mother led me to the castle I had been approaching. In it were a number of people looked scared, but for the most part, healthy. This was the tribal sector.

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released March 12, 2016

Everything -- Creighton Jenkins

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Zeffon Renton, Washington

:9:9:9...

Don't you dare even tend to catalog what lurks ominously in the dark...

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