Post by Novus on Aug 15, 2009 2:55:29 GMT -5
To be three years old again. To be sheltered and loved by a mother, cared for by a father. To be innocent. To be in that place in your life where nothing lasts longer than a minute and sadness doesn't exist, only disappointment.
Novus Clarus was three years old.
He was also 20.
It was a very complicated thing that makes almost no sense and no one really cares in the end.
On his 18th birthday, he had had a dinner with his mother(?) and father(?). It was wonderful and fun and nothing hurt and everything was beautiful.
On his 19th birthday, he had eaten alone. His parents were dead and that's just how it goes. Everything hurt and nothing was beautiful.
On his 20th birthday, he pushed a small metal cart down the hall leading to the Headmaster's office. The boy noticed the apathetic gazes from the paintings on the walls, one or two of the past headmasters and headmistresses looking a little interested at the item on the cart. In the end none of it mattered to the paintings, because the boy and the cart were inconsequential to them. They were oils on cloth.
He reached the phoenix statue and greeted it. He complimented it on it's beautiful plumage, as was customary for him, and the bird moved aside. Novus walked up to the door and knocked on it three times before he began the long walk back down the hall. He left the cart right in front of the door.
The cart had a single item on it: a bright red cake. There was piping along the corners in bright gold, and the icing on the top of the cake was done in the same rich color. It read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEADMASTER" in piping that must have been done by a professional.
Novus Clarus was three years old.
He was also 20.
It was a very complicated thing that makes almost no sense and no one really cares in the end.
On his 18th birthday, he had had a dinner with his mother(?) and father(?). It was wonderful and fun and nothing hurt and everything was beautiful.
On his 19th birthday, he had eaten alone. His parents were dead and that's just how it goes. Everything hurt and nothing was beautiful.
On his 20th birthday, he pushed a small metal cart down the hall leading to the Headmaster's office. The boy noticed the apathetic gazes from the paintings on the walls, one or two of the past headmasters and headmistresses looking a little interested at the item on the cart. In the end none of it mattered to the paintings, because the boy and the cart were inconsequential to them. They were oils on cloth.
He reached the phoenix statue and greeted it. He complimented it on it's beautiful plumage, as was customary for him, and the bird moved aside. Novus walked up to the door and knocked on it three times before he began the long walk back down the hall. He left the cart right in front of the door.
The cart had a single item on it: a bright red cake. There was piping along the corners in bright gold, and the icing on the top of the cake was done in the same rich color. It read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEADMASTER" in piping that must have been done by a professional.