A “Bird”, nor a plane

Timidly emerging from the shadows, the lone figure warily casts his gaze about; as if searching for some unseen threat.  Observing no danger, but not knowing what to expect of this plain (of literary acceptance), the being burst free of it’s cover and runs out in the open.  He darts right and left, making a zigzagging and looping pattern with his progress across the clearing, thus making it difficult to get a full description of the speeding figures physical makeup (mental/emotional we’ll see).  His velocity and ability to pivot into a new direction in a full sprint propel him past would be pursuers, and around potential hazards.  Suddenly the figure turns a hard left and drives hard towards a small but steep mountain. With quadriceps pumping tremendously, and calves bunching like small coconuts; the bronze figure reaches the mountains apex, tears free his cloak and binding straps and leaps off the hills tip towards the precipice leagues below.  Gravity snatches greedily at the figure as if it were a weening pup that hasn’t suckled in hours…….Gravity is irked and denied, and Newton turns somersaults in his grave, the visage of man dives thru the air his gaze is set miles away and eons ago.  He simultaneously unfolds a pair of gleaming black feathered wings from his back and stretches them to their full width.  Pumping furiously now w/ he pronounced back muscles, the figure is a blur as it streaks from the sky; his plummet has carried him miles already.  His descent speed approaching Mach I, the figure reangles his body and wings, first five degrees, then ten, finally a full forty-five, the G-forces are tremendous and undeniable; for as the figure pulls out of his nosedive he losses three of his gleaming black feathers.  Unperturbed by the loss and still moving at an impressive speed, the figure is like a stealth fighter as it streaks in and out of clouds; oblivious to all the attention drawn from all his aviary competitors of which he is both untested, and unmatched.  He sees his destination, and begins to pump his wings even harder; they’ve become a blur from his efforts.  The field of white below him is immense, and seems all encompassing; he corrects his flight path and dives in for a landing upon it’s surface.  The impact of his landing makes a ripple across the the stillness of the surface as it gives slightly under his weight.  He surveys the blankness surrounding him, and smiles appreciatively inwardly as he folds his wings behind him and sits down upon the white terrain; he begins to write in bold letters that are almost audible in their passion, “I am MaxX, this is my page; and I have arrived!” ………….MaxX

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3 comments so far

  1. Madness on

    ..and a tremor shot up her spine as she heard him cry… and she whispered to his soul…

  2. […] He speaks they shall listen … learn .. and love MaxX is starting to find his groove over here in the MadLands .. have a peek .. you wont be […]

  3. Madness on

    darling, youre too kind.. thanks for the props over there at MySpace .. we wont disappoint.


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