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The Orb of the Famulus (work very much in progress)

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posted on Mar, 4 2008 @ 05:05 PM
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It was getting late and the café was almost empty. In the window a man sat alone. His face was smooth and soft, making him appear in his early twenties, although something about his manner suggested otherwise. His hands played with a silver coin, tracing invisible circles like a worry stone and stopping from time to time to tremble.

A waitress was clearing plates and mugs from the tables, watching him as she worked. Usually he would drink his coffee, passing the time of day with her; bright and cheerful. Tonight he was silent; dark and brooding. His black eyes were heavy, not even seeing her; watching the sea, distant and lost.

White crested waves buffeted the pier across the road, crashing up onto the deserted pebble beach. The arched white gates rattled in the wind, wearily working the rusty padlocks and chains that held them shut.

The waitress looked up as the bell above the door tinkled. She watched as he walked down the road past the pier and towards the theatre, stopping to stare up at it. His long coat flapped in the wind revealing a flash of blue velvet lining.

The theatre had closed down many years ago. The orange-brick walls plastered with layers of posters, shredded by the wind and rain. The heavy green doors, always faithfully green, were cracked with rot. Robert gazed up at the Victorian lettering; The Grand Theatre. Two golden lamps had illuminated the ornate letters, although they had been dark for a long time.

Originally they had been gas lamps. Robert remembered how they glowed and whispered. And the great doors that had welcomed queues of people. The air thick with excited voices. Bright poster boards announced forthcoming acts like Big Bands, Jazz, and Variety. Even radio shows had played there during the war.

It had been a long time ago since he had performed there, almost at the beginning for him. Those were heady days from a time gone by; when he had delighted and tantalised the crowds. Summer seasons when the house had been full every week. He had been newly born then. Untainted by what he carried within; far from the burden it was now.

The wind blew harder and he pulled his coat tighter around him. The night was closing in and the sullen skies getting ready to rain. Waves swelled and crashed. Robert turned and left, walking away from the seafront consumed by the shadows of night. The lights in the café were now bright halos. The waitress watched as he left, turning the silver coin in her hand. She the sad empty feeling that this would be the last she would see of him.



posted on Dec, 5 2014 @ 03:15 PM
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So that was the prologue then. I have worked on it some more since my first post and here is the updated version:

The Seaside (20th December 2006, the penultimate day of Autumn)

It was getting very late and the café was empty now except for Robert, who was sitting at his usual table by the window. He was very handsome, with smouldering coal-coloured eyes and short dark brown hair. Together with a smooth, clean-shaven face and a lean, but strong body, he appeared to be in his mid-to-late twenties. However, it was the intensity of Robert’s curious black eyes and the rather old fashioned mannerisms that he tried so hard to suppress, which contradicted his youthful looks and suggested that he might be much older.

This evening, Robert was gazing out into the night watching the oncoming storm while Maggie, the café owner, cleaned the tables around him. As she moved about he did not seem to notice her, his attention focussed far away from the café, somewhere out at sea maybe amongst the large white-crested waves. The tide was high and the waves crashed mutedly onto the pebble beach with such a terrific force that it sent them crashing against the stone sea wall and funnelling up the stone staircases cut into it.

As Robert left the café the bell above the door tinkled. He walked away down the promenade, pulling the hood of his coat up and drawing the collar in to keep out the spray from the waves. It was only when he had almost reached the closed down theatre perched on the edge of the headland that he stopped to glance back at the café. The distant lights were reduced to bright frosty rings, halos, with Maggie as a small silhouette against the soft glow. She was still watching him.

“I’m sorry, Maggie, I really am,” Robert said quietly, lowering his voice as if she might hear. “But you don’t know me. You know nothing about me and I don’t want to hurt you. Not again. Not after last time.”

Robert remembered her disappointment that evening in the café, catching her thoughts as they had tumbled out in confused silky ribbons of dark browns and yellows.

“Would it matter if I did tell you? What about if I told you everything?”

It was so tempting. He really wanted to, but knew that once he had, it was so terrible that he wondered if she would be able to forgive him and he would have to take it back.

“And how will I be able to forgive myself when I have to steal it all back from you?” And he felt the fresh prickle of guilt.

In answer to his questions, the wind blew harder catching his long coat in its grip, revealing a flash of velvet blue as it flapped over a corner. Disagreeing with him, it tugged at the coat and Robert imagined that it was trying to push him back to the café. Maybe the wind was right, but it was too late as he had already made up his mind. It was with some effort that Robert turned and walked away from the seafront where he was consumed by the shadows of the night.
edit on 5/12/2014 by YarlanZey because: (no reason given)



posted on Dec, 7 2014 @ 02:35 PM
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I Have been lucky enough to have read this entire story.
I was hooked and loved it so much I couldnt put it down.
It even made me cry x
Hurry up and publish it !!!!!



posted on Dec, 7 2014 @ 04:48 PM
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a reply to: afraidofthedark

Thanks. x

Me too. When I read the last draft through it made me cry, twice actually, which took me by surprise as I knew what was going to happen. I had some tears for Robert again more recently when I was writing the prologue for The Riddle of the Storm (a sequel which follows on from Orb).

I'm trying
and when I do yours will be the first name inside. YZ




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