Empty Light - Part 1

Moth At Work

Here's Part 1 to Empty Light, this is Moth at his daily job, and the way people see him. We're both really content with the way it turned out, enjoy!

Light shines brightly beating down on Moth as he strolls down the street to the local middle school where he works as a janitor. He really had little reason to start working outside of seeing and hearing of everyone else work, so he simply found that it's what anyone else would so; why wouldn't he? Moth enters and begins his daily duties that were assigned. He blankly paces the halls of the school with a push broom in hand. the broom isn't positioned the way one would expect, it's quite outrageously in the palm of both hands, as if he were clutching a blade sticking out of his abdomen. 

The children of the school are always watching him; his method, and the concept of how things work in the world is very blatantly skewed and faulty. His method is conceived based off how he may have seen things done in the past. The issue with that is a good portion of the time he doesn't see it done, so he then interprets the rest. Which often makes for quite a strange and somewhat humorous show. However most, if not all, of the children at this little school are fearful or very weary of Moth. They peer at him, his face is vacant and his eyes will remain abnormally apathetic throughout any situation. One could honestly call his eyes hollow, more so than a bullet after it's been used, he gives serious credibility to the word "empty".

None of these children have heard Moth speak a word, the reason behind that is Moth generally won't speak unless he's spoken to. His speech is rather forged, mimicking chunks of things he's heard before and mashing them together into one sentence, which can often make little sense and be considered valueless and impossible to derive a meaning from. Moth formally treads the school ground for some time, pushing dirt while maintaining a very linear path. The dirt and dust isn't really clean, it's rather displaced to somewhere new in the school, with a trail to identify just where is originally came from. After his 3 hour shift is over, he lets loose a guttural screech, "DONE!", one that can be heard half a mile from his location, it sounds more like the sound emitted from two massive plates of metal colliding and reverberating for some time. He then launches the broom from his hands into a nearby locker, nearly smashing some children in the process. It'd be very hard to understand why he's still employed at this school, however his superiors are very afraid of him and reject the notion that anything is abnormal. Moth makes his leave from the school, eyes watching him everywhere out of fear and pure curiosity to as what he really is. He makes way to the next chapter in his day: school. 

~Sleeps

>ZigVanGoose

A Little Nothing to Update You

I felt like the blog was a bit lonely and it was begging for new content, however I want to refrain from giving any details away to our new piece that you'll see in a few days. So, in the heat of some anger I needed to pass through my system I wrote something a bit darker. My apologies for the pessimism behind this post, that's long gone now, but  I sort of like the way it came out; it's just awfully sad. Hopefully I can write a piece more uplifting in a few days!

Sorrow, I Left it Behind

Be that the smell of death lingers everywhere, there's nothing in this vacant room. Why should there be a smell of such disgust in a place so empty? You can wait here forever but the utter repugnance will never fade.
The smell will bite your senses and leave the most bitter of taste in your mouth. You'll want to leave, but in a room where nothing exist but the four walls that bind you there's an absolute of eternal stagnancy.
Time will pass & you'll remain. The lingering taste of home will follow you around, taunting you in memories of people from your past; people that you cared for. You'll never see them again. The only thing you know is that smell of festering, putrid, cold flesh that is void of life.
Everyone exist outside, maybe just outside of this room but you'll never be humbled with even the sight of another. You'll want death, maybe even yearn and beg for it, but it won't arrive. You'll know every corner of this room better than the entirety of your own mind, the lines that meet and follow every wall in this room, outlining the only object your eyes will grasp again. The walls are practically invisible and void of anything, no chips, no cracks, no specs, nothing but a pale white, and fade into the nothingness of what this room entails. It’s empty of anything and everything all at once, the only things that will ever exist is you and the smell that overwhelms any silver lining of hope you may hold.
Time will persist and you'll remain. The smell will remain. The four walls will haunt you until time cease.

~Sleeps