thomas.berubeg
Wandering the World
Quickly written after reading something earlier in the thread about mistforms.
The meeting had been going on for days, and he had gotten bored. No, not bored, he just needed a breather. There was only so much talk of quotas and numbers and processes one could put up with before too much was too much. Honestly, he was surprised that he had cracked first. Generally, Mr. C was the one with no patience. But then again, Mr. C was undoubtedly asleep, snoring softly as the others discussed the Merger. Mr. M loved this stuff, of course, Loved nothing more than this talk of Quantities and Unity and Paradigms and Synergies. All meaningless BS, of course, but, if it made him happy…
He got up quietly and walked towards the porch of the meeting house. It was dark, and he looked out over the flat plains, any feature lost in the inky, starless darkness. Absently, he wondered what was out there, in the darkness, what kind of stories the dark could tell, if it could speak.
“E? are you here?” Mr. A put his arm around Mr. E’s shoulders. “Are you alright? We missed you in there. M’s finally done talking. We’ve agreed, and the Merger has been signed. We just need your Agreement before Ms. C can tell her people to get started. She says she also has some agents ready to open some new markets for us, that she’ll dispatch as soon as we’re ready.”
“I’m fine, I’ll be right in.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Just musing. Wondering if this is the right thing, here. If what we’re doing is right.”
“You can’t deny that it’ll give us a huge edge over our competitors.”
“No, No, I suppose I can’t, but still… This feels like a betrayal of our principles. We’re here for a reason, right?”
“It’s just streamlining and officializing the process. Are you coming in? or are you having second thoughts?”
“I’m coming. Don’t worry about me, I just need a second to think.”
“Take your time.” Mr. A smiled at E. “Just not to long. You know how Ms. C hates to wait, eh?” And with that, Mr. A walked back through the doors into the house. Mr. E leaned against the railing of the porch, gazing out at the empty darkness, and coming to a decision, exhaled a long sigh, and turned back towards the inside, and the others waiting.
In the darkness, Mr. E’s breath mingled with the dust and ash, and drew from it the memories of it’s forgotten people, half formed images of a race long past, going about long abandoned tasks..
At the door, Mr. E looked back at the outside and smiled. “Much better,” he whispered to himself.