Well, here's yesterday's! I'll get today's up as soon as I can, but internet connection is spotty...and on a library computer, I can only put up what I have on my external harddrive--meaning yesterday's story. Anyway, the inspiration for this one comes from my younger brother, Isaac. He has this weird ability to shut everything out, every emotion, every person, everything. Anywho, here it is...
3/1/10
Prompt: "What the hell is wrong with you?!" (NaNo)
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" The voice was angry, livid. The calm gaze that stared back was the opposite, blank, detached. A fist was raised, pulled back, but it faltered under the power of that cool stare. It was unaffected by the rage directed at it, unaffected by the potential power of the fist. It remained studiously blank, completely disconnected from emotion.
That was the strength of the gaze. The ability to detach itself, the ability to pull away and shut down, shut out any outside influence, that was its power. And it was a frightening power, one that was capable of striking doubt into any oppressor’s heart.
The angry voice faded before the empty gaze, the fist dropping to its owner’s side. Footsteps stormed away, a door slammed, and still the gaze remained coolly blank. There was no emotion in it, no life, merely survival. And survive it would, for a long time, but would it live? Would the gaze find the strength to truly live? Or would it remain silent, detached, empty for eternity. It didn’t know, didn’t think, it merely willed itself to survive. Emotions were dangerous, and it couldn’t survive with them. So it remained, blank and cold, utilizing the only avenue open for its survival.
It would survive.
Total Time: 8 minutes
Word Count: 212
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