Rocks, Paper, Pictures

“I’ll never forget the day they arrived. Not in our wildest imagination could we have been ready for what was coming. The dust danced in the air, giving form to the morning light, creating blades of sunlight, that like an army making slow calculated progress, cut their way into my room to wage battle on my will. Just a little longer. Just one more dream. I knew it was a big day, but damned if I didn’t want to sleep it away. The celebration the night before marked the end of the training I had spent most of my life a part of. This was the journey, if you will, that my line was required to enter at age 8. After 22 years I simply wanted to rest. At least that day, though, was the last that I would ever have to look at that forsaken hut I called home for so long, dirt floors and all. And soon, it would be time to return to Alexshire. Even after 14 years I could still remember the sights and smells that were a part of that city. My friends. My family. My true home. That was enough to spring me upright out of my bed, into my clothing, and running like an excited rabbit out into the morning air…”