Entry 2 of 2 in Book Two: The Fifteenth Year of the Third Millennium of the Common Era

Alternate Title: Mixed Metaphors

This is just a little descriptive thing I was working on in my head as I drove. Granted… as soon as I got out of the car, I realized… holy crap my brain is tired from all that driving… but I’ll try to put this down and we’ll see what happens.

There is a small segment of my brain that seems to contain a creature, a sentient thought, something. In the back left of my brain I feel small claws upon steel. screeetch and then a pause. screetch and then a pause. I investigate the unwelcome event.

The sreeeetch continues persistently and I follow the path of the sound down, down, down to where it stop at the top of the heart. The heart translates the pestering screetch into something substantial and I wait to translate. screeetch pause. want. screeetch pause. want. screeetch pause. want. screeetch pause. want.

But want… what?! screeetch pause. want. There is no further information to be gained. screeetch pause. want. I dig. screeetch pause. want. Everything presents itself. screeetch pause. want. It becomes almost that of an Edgar Allen Poe novel. screeetch pause. want. I beg the creature to stop screeetch pause. want. I attempt to rationalize that things take time. screeetch pause. want. That patience is a virtue screeetch pause. want.

Then a lone voice, raspy and terrifying, “The road of delayed gratification has not led anywhere. Your self denial has led us here.” screeetch pause. want. screeetch pause. want. screeetch pause. want.