Walking into the cafe on street side, I met Talloran by the place adjacent to the french window. By that time he rose up his head and looked at me, sunshine are casted brightly upon him. His green eyes reminded me of sea swallow’s waves, emerald green waves, they are, splashing on the shoal, about to struck a shower of white stars.
Have you been there out to the sea?
He gazed beyond me into some autumn’s cloudiness clear sky that melts into the sea. On wavering deck there were only two companions, Draven, leaned on the rail, laughed out suddenly. He look out to the far where a spring rise up high from the water’s surface, subtle drawn out voice echoed dimly. Talloran, however, could only see grandeur phantoms, the city of Atlantis stood high up in the air, pinnacle made of coral reflected silk like scarlet light, and the bricks are dark violet as if sunset colors shrouded them in harmony.
He blinked, Draven has already lean towards him, kissed his check. He glare at the agent’s complexion until blood ooze from that face which has transformed into the exact same face of his little sister who had been abandoned in the end of the ally accompanied with the mosquitoes and flies and sewage. His little sister opened her mouth and started to talk, she sang out requiems’ days of moan, then she started to become younger, smaller, shrinking into the bedroom’s corner, holding on the torn new dress. Moth struggled out from her lips, whirled and turned and rushed toward the candle, granted flash glow at the moment where lepidopteran wings touched the flame, the mixture of candle tears and ashes, the love of dark grey and ivory white entangled until death.
The candles kept burning. From the downthrow of brightness, fragrance of wild flowers diffuse perennially. He tasted the bitterness inside the oral cavity as if tasting a coin; then it is the sweetness stretch of blood, parasites 寄生虫 bite on his liver, wriggle through his skin, the detector sip on the salty sea wind. ‘Whrillllll——-‘and the wind skim over him——just like the cold fins of dying fishes stroking his hairline——the falling leaves on the drag themselves into blond rivers. Growing into blades, wind scooped out both of his eyes and thus these anhydrous phosphate crystals roll out and splashed on the floor, transformed into peculiar and avant artworks.
Crawling towards his wrist, parasites admiringly praised his intricate veins as the dormant lapis inside the vein like lodes of pearls. IT nibble on the blood vessels, dark blood dripping from his finger tips, depicted concentric circles and three inner-pointed arrows. It smiled like Eden’s viper hissed ‘Ssss—-sss—-‘
Talloran closed his eyes. Dying sun, its configuration projected into the inner eye lids, brought shattering. His dream from his embryonic times reappeared, cells go under endocytosis, petite bonds curled and folded, fractal graph developed, finally, a new, identical universe and substrate narration. He hided behind the cleft of space, had a glimpse on grizzled blond hair. Tiny red lights glowed, one and myriad.
Name, James Martin Talloran. Age, that doesn’t matter……Draven, where’s Draven? I need him, I need you.
/You should try to listen. / [MottHery](http://www.wikidot.com/user:info/motthery) Talloran looked at me as I spoke while drinking all his coffee inside the mug, which is as blue as uncontaminated ocean. /I have already understand how hysterical could the carnival of life be, I’ve known the pleasure six feet under. I will be your narrator, narrating the ordeal in your life, narrating Talloran’s End.
Being a person that can accept advices, I shut up and listened, his world decoiled infront of me.
Talloran, again, tries to stick up the wooden sculpture which comes from his father who had gone away.
Talloran sits on the floor, seizes the shard of glass that stabbed in his palm and pulls it out, he >observes the glorious, inorganic material after stained with red.
Talloran witnesses a murder among his neighbor within the spur of moment, the pattern formed >by blood splashing on the window makes him reminisces the stroke of Vincent van Gogh.
Talloran uses an old art knife to cut open his arm, it was too blunt to do so.
Talloran lies on the bed, watching time passing and sky enlightening, the curtain obeys its job and > executes all the light.
Talloran is in complete silence, gradually feeling his heart beat diffuse into the silence.
Talloran tries to sing, there is no audience after the tune ends.
Talloran has been called to anwer the question ‘what is love?’ He mutters but can not answer.
Talloran sees his mother sending herself to the first thirty-three paragraphs of ‘The divine >Comedy’ by a bullet.
Talloran burns down his own house.
Talloran writes himself into a novel, the editor scoffs at it.
Talloran fabricates God by neon light for himself.
Talloran dreams about a reality more unimaginable than the fool’s a thousand and one >daydreams.
Talloran has became the best prison keeper, executing three thousand nine hundred and ninety >nine children and then reliving them.
Talloran falls in a person who has the same green eyes, meanwhile his father, using dusts, frees >himself from the cages.
Talloran is sent into machine or hatred, split into a half.
Talloran falls into water.
He sank deeper and deeper, but there’s no suppression or suffocation. Monstrous whales, he saw, swimming upon his head, the belly glimmered pearl white, blue, glowing stripes; the sea stirred homogenous waves, pushing him down to the deeper site of the bottomless abyss. Whale songs wave abnormal wavelengths rang for he and he alone, foams appeared in the water, forming his permanent coffin.
Talloran and I gazed at each other. His pupil is dark black, collared by a brink of shallow gold, from there, immense fresh green extends, as the fallen leaves in autumn restored vigor, the morning sun, chasing eternality, embraced dawn.