Throwing her hat on the ground in front of her, the little girl watched the storm unaffected. Until the sudden growling of clouds put a wrinkle on her forehead as she blinked her eye folds open.
"No point to physicality. Familiarity a pretense. Solitude in recurrence. What ultimate is there for to phase through an undigested gist of odds blindly in succession? And after all this, is death." She ended her monologue with a sigh and stared at the man who was holding her hand. Moments after, they laid on the playground rested in leaves.
"Fine verbal prance." He noted in return while putting her light body on his lap, covering her chest with his jacket.534Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1xdgwm6cb5
"Is this for your literature class?" He added shortly after.
"Dad!" She complained and turned her face upwards looking at his chin.
Without looking back, he picked an odd-looking leaf and laid it in her hands, only to be taken away by the wind before either lay their eyes on it and as it left her grasp it drew their attention to a turbulent mesocyclone forming in the far sky. She hid her face behind the jacket watching from the lower button hole and asked: "What happens when you die? Is there any assurance for salvation?"
He covered her forehead with his palm and said: "Once you die and your body stops functioning, you cease to exist. It cannot be compared to any other experience. Keeping alive is the sound choice until the inevitable, even in severities, it's all there's to it." He removed his hand from her forehead. Taking the pause as a period, she then leapt out of his lap into a pile of leaves.
"Doesn't it disturb the more cheerful nights of your deterministic grind? That it's all for nothing in the end?" She hopped around after asking him.
As their eyes met, the ongoing moderate breeze transformed into a gale and a sudden rush of wind went past them. She struggled to keep her eyes open as her long hair covered her face. Spotting a puddle, he picked a small pebble in her distraction and weaved together a continuous thread of words: "Letting your imagination have free rein would alter your senses in ways you won't be pleased with."
She stopped hopping around and asked him: "What would have been of me if you were never to be?"
He skimmed the the small stone across the water and replied: "If you ever were to kill yourself, don't drag me into it. It doesn't matter how much attention you draw. Everything ends in a blip."
A lightning brightened the sky. Uneased, she took his hand again and started walking: "And the problem is?"
A shrivelled leaf landed on her left eyeball. He noticed and took it off her face: "The people you live around have ultimately no impact on a mental state."
He paused for a full second and continued: "They only do in emotional impulses that draw you away from reason, appeasing as they are but, the facts aren't there or reliable."
Then he made another pause and watched her steps succeeding each other: "The crowd has no intention beyond causal connections. Your trade would be down the line of-"
She kicked a pebble and completed his sentence: "Melancholic wench?"
The smaller trees were starting to bend by the ever-growing wind stream. She stopped and pulled her leg to point at an acorn hanging from a steady branch. Following the finger he grabbed her sides and put her on his shoulders: "That's another way to put it."
She bit the acorn and whispered into his ear: "After chewing it I should say, reasonable. I'm in no epiphany since you took my griping as something worth reading through but I'm convinced. That's all I wanted anyway."
He then put her down on the ground: "That's my girl," and kissed her hair.
After she left, reluctant to the sweet odor of her threads he spat on the ground. The man went back to the bench and kept watching her playing on the swing. The nine-years-old girl wasn't his daughter and he wasn't attached to her either.
ns 15.158.61.6da2
