The man stood, gazing off into space. The stars shimmered, and he watched the explosion as it ruffled his clothes. He sat down at his desk and wrote. Space hung above him, and he sipped his tea. He was the Recorder, a man blessed and cursed with immortality. He had to Record all that went on in the universe, and beyond it too. He sighed. He could not remember his past, or even what his name was. All he could remember was a woman, who told him he must always stay here and write about what came into his head. And he did. Millenia had passed, and that was all that he did. He could not remember when suddenly, the woman disappeared, or the space ships that had come so close, only to be incinerated and turned to dust when they came near, the lives wasted. He could remember never being hungry, but always in extreme pain if he didn’t eat. He could remember jumping into the void once and feeling immense pain, unbearable, and being forced to deal with it all. His head was about to split, and his eyes should have burst in their sockets long ago, but they didn’t. He felt unbearable pain. But, The Recorder had learned from his mistakes and was ready to attempt to escape his prison.
- Book Report: The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe
- Strange Times