EV Andrews
Stories (2/0)
A Path Home For Bakerman
Sea. An everlasting body of water. Fresh. Salt on a microscopic level. Clear. Shallow light. Dark in the abyss. Fish and sunken ships. Oh the light houses adorning coasts up and down the sea spayed shore. Myths as old as time touch the lens of port holes to books and sailors alike to bask in the beauty that is the ravenous sweet harmonious maven of the sea. Indebted are the adventurous to the sweet song of waves crashing, slurping, shhhhh-ing in retreat below the seagull cacophony above the sea.
By EV Andrews3 years ago in Families
The River Jordan
J. R. Elam, from the Roth-Millian Empire boardroom, clicks a remote ending broadcast transmission. Elam’s shoulders pivot to face the board of executives. Raising his right hand to forehead, the executives mirrored the master in unison exclaiming “Luceat lux in tenebris, et regnabit in folium ex rosa est,” shortly before exiting the room. Rising in stern like motion, Elam with an overly elongated gate walks to the widely encased window overlooking the cityscape before him. “In society’s two-thousand-year dance of the seven veils,” he remarks privately, “today a new dance is reborn of Apis, to render Babylon’s former premier apex of inequity. Do they [civilians] know of the greatness that is above and below is finally here?”
By EV Andrews3 years ago in Futurism