Prologue


Morning. He awakes from his slumber. No, to be exact, he just open his eyes for the first time that morning, for he had been long awaken. Only his eyelids were closed for so long. He looks around, only to find himself in a world of utter abstractness. He panics. Sweat beads roll down his brows. He walks to the door, if, that is, that is a door, and open it wide. Then, he stop panicking. The world outside the door is still the same as yesterday, still the same house, the same sound of birds chirping in the morning, still the same scent as the morning before. Amazed by his own wacky experience, he started to search for a pen and some paper. He thought that it would be nice if he could articulate those feelings of rush and panic in a poem or short story of some sort. But for some reason, he couldn’t find any. He searched room after room after room, but no pen and paper still. Then, after all the rooms had he searched, he came before the door to the last room at the end of the corridor. He twist the doorknob and crack the door open. In that room, right in the centre of it is a QWERTY keyboard, and at the other end of the room are window panes large enough for him to see the world outside in HD crystal clear view. In fact, the world can peer in too! He started to shake as the thought of the whole world peeping in strangles him, engulfing him with fear. But he has no choice. There is not a single object he can use to carve the feelings he had had just now into words, and he is no good at memorizing things and details in the minute, whilst his work must be of utter perfection, at least to himself. So, with a lot of hesitation and pauses, he started to type on the keyboard, one letter at a time. After finishing his first sentence, he stops and take a look at the window panes in front of him. The world didn’t change, didn’t even give the slightest reaction to what he had written. Soon, his typing become faster and faster, picking up the pace from almost not moving the minute before to letting his fingers dancing on the keyboard the next minute. Then, a tiny little fraction of the world notice his existence, then more, and more noticed. Some like it while the  other lot doesn’t. But he did not care the least, for he desired to only fulfill his own desire to express his thoughts and feelings and expressions and all…… in words.

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Prologue

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