Mytwosentences 202 (Dying To Know 25)

Thousands of kilometers away, a solitary woman, clad in isle simplicity, felt, smelled, and harvested the opulent vegetation of her self-sustaining fortress in the deadly North Atlantic; known to all, including those no longer with us, as Brigadoon.

Here, Allie, with reddening nose adrip and crusty right arm in need of medical attention, moved inspectively closer to the carved ‘shill d19’ on the massive table… that’s when she became aware of something odd, a warm air current was blowing on the back of her legs.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 198 (Dying To Know 22)

Allie’s eyes widened as she slid her right hand back and forth over the etches, gouges and grooves strewn atop the large, rectangular form; whose surface, in the partial moonlight, resembled a well detailed map of tributaries.

As she involuntarily walked around the perimeter of the table, her fingertips rode burrs, her eyes fell shut, and she liminally realized the haphazard scrawl was actually a boustrophedon style of deliberate writing.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 197 (Dying To Know 21)

As she carefully approached the enormous, oaken table, Allie’s vacant acceptance of what was unfolding around her started to bend, like a forgotten aqueduct that began to receive dribs and drabs of fresh water.

She hadn’t an earnest thought, or a simple memory recall, about where she came from or why she was there… only that her name was Allie and someone or something had made her bleed.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 196 (Dying To Know 20)

Just beyond the table, a perpetual breeze serpentined through the tall, wispy grass, and created a symphonic wave whose syncopated rustle sounded like a gently plucked harp.

As Allie rubbed her right arm and stepped toward the table, she observed the pristine seafront and it’s naturally meandering striations, which seemed to imprint time’s tide in a coastal longform.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 195 (Dying To Know 19)

She was alone with the wind… no hungry, discombobulated crowds, no assemblage of rickety boats that discharged nameless aspirants, and no indication, save for a single thing, that Dock 19 existed.

Allie, who was standing at the lip of an encroaching tide, dropped the mysterious syringe onto the wet shoreline, and fixated on what appeared to be a hulking table near the top of the berm.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 191 (Dying To Know 15)

Tall, jagged walls of ancient rock rose high along the perimeter of an almost beachless shoreline, and protectively cradled the rich topography naturally encased within.

The verdant and lively land, flourishing with succulent fruit trees and lush vegetable gardens, was intricately connected by rudimentary footpaths which cleverly converged at a substantial, circular clearing in the center.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 190 (Dying To Know 14)

In an unflinching formation that featured a hint of pugnacity, spotted sea birds carefully maneuvered above a clandestine, rock-ribbed island located almost twenty miles northwest of Skellig Michael.

Lost amid the ferocity of a continuously raging ocean and unknown to even the most detailed nautical charts, decades of maritime vox populi commonly dismiss the tiny island as an eerie myth.

(Written by Edward Roads)

Mytwosentences 189 (Dying To Know 13)

This time the quiet air seemed to focus her scattered thoughts, instead of transporting them to muddled longitudes and convoluted cerebral precincts that constantly flickered from just beyond arm’s length.

Allie backed up two or three steps, knelt down, and picked up a fairly hefty, discharged syringe with dried blood on the outside… but the disturbing crimson color was also on the inside.

(Written by Edward Roads)