Eclectic Narratives - Lost Secrets

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That which is lost, never to be found again.

Secrets untold, buried with their keepers.

Mysteries forever covered and tales lost to time.

Is it for the best, is it for the worst?

Some things are best left buried and forgotten.

Some things are better off languishing in oblivion.

Some things should be remembered.

Some things should never have been lost in the first place.

Yet, when enough time passes, does it matter anymore?

Some would say no, others would say yes.

A vault of dark secrets, of poisons and toxins is best left alone.

But mayhaps a story worth telling is buried down below.

One where justice was not done, where the truth faded into obscurity.

It may be too late, but better late than never.

It could be wise to say, never let oneself be consigned to oblivion.

However, maybe one would prefer to be forgotten.

Find your own answer before the sands of time bury you as well.

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What is lost may never be found again, but the real question is should it be?

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy.

Engimatic Fantasies - That Thing

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            “Is that supposed to look like that?” The blonde cashier girl asked. The freezer at the back of the Burger Land was not a popular place to converse or hang out (or even hide). Hence small issues inside it tended to be overlooked. In this case, a “thing” of unknown origin was currently growing from inside a bag of frozen french fries.

            “No, no, it is not,” the redhead girl who worked fries shook her head while eying the mystery thing suspiciously. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t potato based, but it was alive. Or at least, it twitched and wriggled enough to suggest so.

            “Dude, we’re behind on fries, and we need-” The messy-haired cashier stepped in behind them. “Woah, what’s that gnarly-looking thing?”

            “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know,” the redhead stated. “Just grab a couple brooms, and we’ll kill it or at least shove it out the backdoor.”

            “Don’t kill the poor little thing,” the blonde whimpered, “it might be friendly.”

            “I dunno doesn’t look very friendly,” the dude shrugged. “It do anything cool yet?”

            “No, it’s just sat there twitching,” the redhead answered while reaching for the broom.

            “Well, there was the thing it did to the rat,” the blonde muttered.

            “What rat?” The redhead froze.

            “Well, I didn’t see it at first. I saw a rat,” the blonde explained, “then the rat skittered up to the french fry bag, and the thingy in there…ate it, I guess?”

            “And you didn’t think to tell us this because?” The redhead felt sick to her stomach, now noticing a little rat-shaped lump sinking into the “thing.”

            “Because it was really gross, and I didn’t want to talk about it,” the blonde admitted.

            “Okay, forget the brooms. I’m calling animal control,” the redhead declared.

            “You sure that’s an animal?” The dude pointed out.

            “No clue, but I’m not going in there,” the redhead asserted.

            “What are you going to tell the manager? We need those fries,” the blonde reminded her.

            “If we need them so badly, he can lose a hand getting them himself,” the redhead marched back to her station. The blonde girl and dude looked at her, then at each other, and then at the thing, which continued to wriggle and writhe.

            “Dibs on not telling the manager,” the dude proclaimed as he snatched a lone chicken nugget from a nearby table and tossed it at the thing. The mystery entity grabbed the nugget out of thin air with a set of tentacles that sprouted from its amorphous form before pulling it inside itself. “Righteous,” the dude commented.

            “Oh, poo,” the blonde sighed and walked to the manager’s office. Needless to say, it was a fairly odd day at work, and that was before the strange men in suits showed up.

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Workplace cleaning and sanitation is very important, you never know what nasty things might take root when you neglect such basic duties.

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy.

Eclectic Narratives - Enigma

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I can’t follow it, I can’t chase it.

Its existence is doubtful, yet undeniable.

A riddle, a puzzle, and a shrouded mystery.

You’d be mad to speak of it openly.

You’d be a fool to not be concerned about it.

You’d be insane to not be afraid of it.

I don’t know what it truly is.

I don’t know what it wants or what it believes.

I don’t want to know.

I want to escape it, but how would I?

How do you flee what doesn’t exist?

How do you run from what can’t be seen?

How do you find sanctuary if you can’t tell whether you were in danger in the first place?

An enigma it is.

A tangible illusion.

It cannot be touched, but it can be felt.

It cannot be seen, but it can be sought.

It cannot be heard, but it speaks volumes.

You never know when it is there, but you know it has been.

You know where it might have come and gone, but never when.

You are never truly safe from it, but you’ll never know when you are in danger.

It is there. A trail is left behind, yet…

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How can you understand what cannot be known?

Until next time, Read, Comment and Enjoy.