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Birds of a Feather; Two Williams, one thread. [Private - Paging President Vyse]
Topic Started: Nov 10 2013, 01:21 AM (600 Views)
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the bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The light of the park was too bright, almost blinding as Hansel sat cross legged near the large, ornamental fountain. It portrayed a man wearing some kind of triangular cap, rearing back on a stone carved horse, a scimitar flailing wildly above his head. The inscription had once read something, but it had long since been eroded away by rain and frothing water, leaving the statue chipped, faded, imperfect.

Hansel threw another pebble into the water, tossing five other stones in his hand idly as he watched the rippling patterns in the pool. As the circles drifted further and further from where the stone had been thrown, Hansel felt a strange kinship with them - if deep thoughts such as those were permissable. He, too, had been tugged away from his center by forces he couldn’t control, or understand.

Now he was in a strange place with bigoted liberals and rampant faggots, teachers who allowed students to explode in rage during debates and thumbed the scale heavily in favour of a non-existant God. The big bang and equality, gay pride and free condoms. Just live your lives amongst sin and desperation, express your free speech, but only if you agree with the winning side.

He tossed another stone into the pool, grunting in disgust. Just that day, he had spoken up about waiting for marriage, abstinence, saving yourself. Truly the only correct course to take, even if the bible hadn’t told him so. To save yourself for something better; something bigger, and filled with love, was a stance that he had always firmly held close.

To hear the idea - admittedly worded far more bluntly than he had intended - shot down in a public forum had him retreating here, in the park a half mile away from the school, to sit, and brood.

And think of home.
A list of the dying, a list of the damned.

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