James Theberge
Bio
Stories (2/0)
The Iron Man
Drift flapped down from the sky, covered the ground in an ever rising white barrier. kkkkkk--hhueuhh… kkkkkkkk….hueeehhh Long, drawn out, purposeful breaths through the mask, interrupted only by the tick...tick…ticking of rad marker. The snow washed waste stretched out before the metal beast as it sat in its decomposing recliner, acting as sentinel before the hatch in its yard. A holster rested on its hip, a magnum occupying the space inside it. Wrecked houses with warped trees growing throw them, a television running only static, a burnt and broken skeleton sitting on a corroded couch before it. Rusted cars with various logos and skeletons in various garb litter the street in front of it’s seat.The wind blew through the field of leveled houses and strange trees, depositing frost against the metal casing of the watcher. As the wind kicked up, a new sound filled the air. A clink against the exoskeleton of it. A golden locket, fashioned in the shape of a heart. It stared on through the field, keeping its watch. It scanned the field of broken buildings as the locket shifted in the wind. The wind whispered in its ear as it passed by. Through the metal it could hear the wind’s words.
By James Theberge3 years ago in Fiction
Iron Man
Drift flapped down from the sky, covered the ground in an ever rising white barrier. kkkkkk--hhueuhh… kkkkkkkk….hueeehhh Long, drawn out, purposeful breaths through the mask, interrupted only by the tick...tick…ticking of the rad marker. The snow washed waste stretched out before the metal beast as it sat in its decomposing recliner, acting as sentinel before the hatch in its yard. A holster rested on its hip, a magnum occupying the space inside it. Wrecked houses with warped trees growing throw them, a television running only static, a burnt and broken skeleton sitting on a corroded couch before it. Rusted cars with various logos and skeletons in various garb litter the street in front of it’s seat.The wind blew through the field of leveled houses and strange trees, depositing frost against the metal casing of the watcher. As the wind kicked up, a new sound filled the air. A clink against the exoskeleton of it. A golden locket, fashioned in the shape of a heart. It stared on through the field, keeping its watch. It scanned the field of broken buildings as the locket shifted in the wind. The wind whispered in its ear as it passed by. Through the metal it could hear the wind’s words.
By James Theberge3 years ago in Futurism