Sorry,no updates on my madness day project (as if anybody cares). I would like to ask again, however, that people visit Vonstrochenzone. Anyways, Viewtiful-Chris has been asking me to post this, so i will. It's the first chapter (title above) in my short story (title also above) about a man wandering aimlessly through a post-apocalyptic Earth. I doubt anyone will enjoy it much(but then again i never did have any self-confidence), but i like it. Enjoy.

______________________________________

The world was a nightmare. The war had ravaged the earth, turned it into a huge battle-scarred wasteland. No one seemed to be able to remember exactly how it happened...it was as if one day the planet was thriving, everyone happily living in their own self-delusions...the next the remnants of a fallen civilization scrapped over bits of safe food among the devastated structures that were once buildings. Some of humanity still lived among the ruins...others took refuge in the underground military bases that littered the jungle...but most were busy making a new society, here: in the desert.

<>

The music that could be heard only in Jason's head was epic as he looked down over the dunes, reaching a crescendo that seemed to echo through the sand. It suited the far-reaching landscape of the desert, he thought.

The tightly wrapped cloak that kept the sand from creeping along Jason's skin flapped in the wind a little, it's loose ends whipping back and forth behind him, adding to the feeling of drama.
Putting on a smirk that no one could see beneath his scarf, Jason set off for the city. The wind quickly blew sand over his tracks as he walked. It was as if he was merely a fleeting sensation, a passing touch that could leave no lasting mark on the immortal desert.

The city was far from paradise, but it was a welcome respite from the never-ending sand and the blazing sun. The people lounged in the "streets," having nothing else to do now, the everyday distractions that once kept them idle long since lost in what was known only as "The Fall."
It's sad to think this is probably all that's left, thought Jason. Starving people lying in the sand among desolate buildings; the only structures, manmade or otherwise, that marred the vast expanse of nothingness. But it was a form of art, in a sense. How sick I must be, he thought, that I can see beauty in this.

Walking onward, Jason came upon a large domed-roof building that was partially submerged in the sand. A man whose face was obscured by a raggedy scarf wrapped around his head stood outside the entryway (the door was missing). Jason decided it might be worth taking a look at. He glided over to the doorway and stepped inside, his bare feet making no noise as they stepped onto the sand-covered stone floor. The floor was tilted slightly due to the fact that it was beneath ground level for about a quarter of the building.

A fat man wearing only a piece of cloth over his loins sat in a throne carved into stone which adorned the far side of the room. To his right there was a worn wooden door in the wall. In front of him, half hunched over was a second man. He wore nothing, and was so thin that both his ribs and his spine were visible through his skin, his dark hair was found only on the sides of his head, in messy little patches above his ears. His skin was dark, just like the fat man and everyone else here, but his eyes were bright. His eyes shone with a deep inner intelligence and an emotional spark was present that told volumes about his personality.

Two men who wore loincloths and scarves in the manner of the man outside stood beside the fat man's throne. One hold a dull scimitar that had likely not been polished or sharpened in years, the other's hands were empty. They both stood with a rigid posture, looking straight ahead of them, reminiscent of the demeanor of guards.

"No." said the fat man as he reached to his side and picked up a piece of bread, which he then he shoved into his mouth with all the grace of a slack-jawed hippo.

"But sir! I simply can't live on what you've given me!" demanded the gaunt man, who appeared to be some sort of peasant.

"I said no," replied the fat man.

The gaunt man slinked off, looking even more depressed than before. His feet dragged along the floor as he walked and his face fell under the shadow of his brow. A slight whine escaped his mouth as he left the building.

Jason stepped forward, demanding the attention of the fat man.

"By what authority do you preside over these people with such cruelty?" he asked.

"My own," came the reply "I need no mandate for I am the king, and who the hell are you?"

"Me?" Jason pondered the question "I'm the punchline."

The fat man was confused, one eyebrow raised he remarked "to what?"

"Life," said Jason as he walked away "and you can't do this." Behind him one of the guards swung his scimitar smoothly sideways in a clean arc, swiftly removing the "king's" head. The guard didn't even break posture, remaining a sentry to nothing; forever gazing ahead. The fat man's blood stained the floor, and his rule was no more.

How easily men rise and fall, thought Jason morbidly.

The city was of passing interest, but no answers lay there, and so Jason moved on into the unknown. Wandering through the streets, the only one with a purpose.

<>

Looking back, the city was a speck, a forlorn dot barely marking the desert. Jason wondered if he'd done the right thing, leaving. He wondered if there really was anything left out there, beyond that city, beyond the ill-defined borders of the pathetic little shell that was probably all that was left of humanity. But Jason's mind was no party to regret, and so he walked on, in no direction in particular.
The sand and heat wore on the mind, a burden on thought, hindering passage through the desert. Being surrounded completely by nothing had that sort of effect on people. The journey was rough, but possible.

The sand eventually gave way to long craggy cliffs of cracked tan rock, falling away sharply to reveal the ocean stretched out into infinity. The water was dyed a deep unnatural green by the cast off bits and pieces of society's refuse that were scattered among the waves.

Sighing gently, Jason let go of the earth slowly...and jumped.

End of chapter one.

Edit:

Paragraphs are seperated by a line due to the formatting of userpages.