The Offering.

The Offering

A short Piece of Descriptive writing, while I decide what direction to take my portfolio in.

The Darkness, an amranthine and unfathamable darkness, drowning the senses, obliterating everything, emptyness in its purest form, emcompassing any form of life and seemingly extinguishing it. That is until small beads of light slowly deffuse from the darkness, pale blue and spectral, they travel against the force of gravity, moving upwards in erratic yet unhurried movements, travelling in soft flutters and flows, growing in size, growing in mass and brightness as they emerge slowly from the darkness, gathering around, hovering as if expecting something to occur.
Bells start to chime softly, dis-embodied noises, impossible to disern their origon. They start and wane, start and wane. Approaching the lights, slowly rising in volume as they got closer and closer to the now changing lights, they appeared almost frenzied, their colours changing, flitting from blue, to pink, to green and so on.

The bells stop and the light’s discontnue their frenzied activities. All is silent; a great pressure rises in the air, then the bell’s start again, this time in sudden bursts of sound.

Chink. The lights turn pink.

Chink. The lights turn green.

Chink. The lights turn purple.

Chink. The lights turn white.

Chink! The lights turn red.

A figure is illuminated by the red hues from the glowing orbs. He’s almost unnaturally bent in two, his head almost resting on his feet, a cream robe covering his legs, his torso naked against the glow, except for a golden chest plate, depicting a snake, his long purple hair resting in strands against the darkness beneath him, covering the contours of his face. He lifts the heel of his right foot before snapping it back down. Chink. Repeating the action with his left. Chink. He slowly lifts his torso up, slowly moving in one fluid snake like movement until he is stood tall his arms reaching out to the darkness above him. He flicks his wrists, one after the other. Chink. Chink. He bends backwards, placing his hands on the floor, and let’s out a gruff chuffing noise, that rises from his throat and escaped his lips. He moves his legs up and over his body untill he is now bent forward, he slides his hands up to his feet again, his hair finding a new resting place on the darkness.

He chuffs again, snapping each of his heels up and down, one after the other. Chink. Chink. And raises his body up into the darkness, flicking his wrists. Chink. Chink. He follows the movement through again, this time bending backwards, resting on his forearms his forehead whispering to the floor and his hair trailing behind him. A clock stands beside him and all is silent. And we wait, oh how we wait for a sound, even the lights stop their accent through the darkness to wait. And then the ticking begins, tick-tock, goes the clock, in prefect rythem with the man’s heart beat.

Loosing the fluidility of his movements, he jerks his right leg up a few inches at a time in beat with the clock and some other tundering beat. A large lumbering form appears in the gloom that the little red lights are causing. The man jerks his leg further up in time to the steps of the lumbering form. Until finally his leg is stretched out fully. The elephants head becomes clear in the light from the orbs, its mighty trunk held from the floor by strong muscles, his ears flicking every so often to ward off unseen neusances. The man chuff’s at the elephant and it touches him lightly with its trunk, bowing its head in respect, its long tusks scraping against the floor. It sways slightly with the effort of supporting its heavy form.

“This is my offerening to you.”