Jupiter's Eye~

[Elixur]

Right then. It's been a while anyhow. I was having a really shitty day and i usually vent in a couple of colourful ways. One of which is to write and thus this exists in the 3 hours of anger it took to work it out.
It came around from a conversation i had with myself on a long, dark, cold walk home after work. The irony is the conversation herein is much like the one i had with myself both in principle and poignancy (cant spell that)

I know and understand most readers wouldn't like to read the whole thing in one sitting, instead of swamping you in this, I've merely laid an introductory teaser to the unedited 4 page short story that is "Jupiter's Eye" If you like it and want the rest, i'll send it you as soon as I find the time and will power to complete it and you can read it in your own comfort the way its supposed to look.

Jupiter's Eye
Those who saw it were not sure of what they were actually seeing. At first a seemingly normal everyday event, now held the gaze like the last breaths of a dying loved one. It started as a whisper and rippled through the sky in a silent scream. From thirty thousand feet the flames would have been very real instead of the surrealist image painted across the azure sky line. Artistic impressionism aside, the only tell tale signs of trouble was the moment of bright orange illuminating the trail at it's apex across the slipstream of sky.

Beneath, the air was cool but lukewarm like coffee left too long to stand and life moved with it's sequence of extraordinary events happening everywhere amongst the mundane. A busy city street in the throes of midday. Congestion so thick the taxi driver's can sit smugly as their fee slowly rises in the meter. Grid lock was the expression to which commuters and consumers knew all too well. Wide colourful canopies shielded the sidewalk near a dinner where the midday light failed to reach. Between the stark buildings of concrete and glass, and the touches of nature nurtured from seeds to give the boulevards their name, light was of small amount and dim where abundance was allowed. A dark day some would say and rightly so.

A rare bloom or premature blossom - pink like a lovers thigh- was disturbed by the rush of wind and carried itself from the perch of a neighbouring tree and out into the crowded street where it sauntered underneath the canopy of the dinner and onto the table of a business executive who had stopped for his lunchtime fix of caffeine.
As if the scene was an orchestra and the blossom it's composer, the seemingly natural movement of the bloom could be a serendipitous touch of nature, or a catalyst for the events that followed. Life after all, was a funny thing. Humour however, was something devout that day

The sound of French exchange students stirred around the outside seats of the Starbucks coffee dinner. Stirred like the steam from the polystyrene mugs they clasped with cold hands and eagerly sipped between bouts of their native tongue.
The business executive licked the tip of his index finger before leafing to the next section of the financial times in time for a dense shadow to fall over the spot he was trying to read. Annoyed, but not overly so, he folded the newspaper slightly to see the source of the shadow. Tilting his head forward so his reading glasses sagged down the bridge of his nose, he eyed the new arrival without the need of lenses.
"Can I help you?' he asked to the shadow through squinted eyes as details deceived him due to the outlining silhouette cast on the stranger courtesy of the afternoon sun. All that was visible to him was a tall looking gentleman, wearing as strange as it appeared, a white tuxedo complete with a blood red bow tie nestled at the nape of his long neck. All of his face was blacken aside from the white hat he wore bearing a red trim.
"The real question Michael," the stranger said stepping aside and drawing the spare chair adjacent to the business man. "Is can I help you."

At that moment time did the funny thing it seemed to do when the fabrics of your world met their nemesis - it slowed as if the Cosmo's themselves had forgotten to spin the celestial thread of existence.
"D-do I know. . You?" Michael asked with a hesitance of fear arresting his throat, his eyes awash the strangers bizarre visage.
"No, Michael. Don't be alarmed. You don't know me. You never will. But I Michael, I know you very well, but that information is not meant for the juncture of this conversation. . . "
"HOW do you know me if I don't know you?" Michael interrupted, his face the answer of every question regarding the absurdity of the situation.
The strangers head tilted, his dark eyes glinted slightly with a flamed hue, "please don't interrupt me Michael. One thing my profession has taught me and that is to never interrupt a man possessing either stern conviction or a loaded gun. Which do you think I entertain, Michael?"
The business man visibly paled, shrinking slightly behind the shield of stock market statistics.
The stranger in white laughed with a melodic cackle.
"Conviction. . . Michael," he informed in a low voice, that was as appealing as it was even. "Suffice to say Michael, I was there when you were born and thus. . . Here I am."

Comments, critisism, suggestions, flames throw em at me.

[Elixur]

Four hours and not a single comment.

It appears this will be my last submission to the writing forum.