Post by Khaldon on Sept 4, 2008 11:23:52 GMT -5
Being oppressed was awfully boring.
Khaldon brought the apple down to his lips once more, but still didn't take the first bite. He lay with his back to the dirty cobblestones and his legs up on an overturned crate. No one usually came down this alley; it only lead to more rubble and a few shabby houses. It was a decent place, therefore, for somebody who spent most of his time alone, and intended to keep it as such. Being alone, though, like being oppressed, could get boring. Surely an hour had passed now since he came down here with the apple he had snatched off of a cart while the owner was distracted. Apples were some of the easiest things to steal, Khaldon had come to find. Perhaps it was how easily they fit into the natural curve of one's hand when it swept nonchalantly over the produce.
But today, the crimson fruit held more appeal in its vibrant color than its expected taste. Again, Khaldon caught himself thinking about where his capture had come from. There were no orchards in the city, so surely it had come from somewhere else, even if it were as close as several paces beyond the outer gate. Twenty years and he had never been through that gate. He had been tempted to, of course. Tristan didn't have the slightest care for where his 'son' was, and would probably not notice that he was missing for a week. It would be simple enough to pack up the nothing that he owned and saunter straight out into wherever he wanted to go...
However, not knowing where or how far you're going when you've hardly got a coin to your name is not the brightest of ideas. He could easily steal the money. Loose a few chickens and nick a few purses while heads are turned and one could have a pretty penny to show for it. In the process, however, he would surely strand several other people just as he was stranded now, and Khaldon would not wish such a life on anyone.
So here he would stay, at least a while longer. He would continue his simple, boring life of simple, boring oppression. He sighed heavily, throwing the apple into the air and catching it before it could land painfully on his nose.
All of this thought was starting to make even an honest job sound appealing.
Khaldon brought the apple down to his lips once more, but still didn't take the first bite. He lay with his back to the dirty cobblestones and his legs up on an overturned crate. No one usually came down this alley; it only lead to more rubble and a few shabby houses. It was a decent place, therefore, for somebody who spent most of his time alone, and intended to keep it as such. Being alone, though, like being oppressed, could get boring. Surely an hour had passed now since he came down here with the apple he had snatched off of a cart while the owner was distracted. Apples were some of the easiest things to steal, Khaldon had come to find. Perhaps it was how easily they fit into the natural curve of one's hand when it swept nonchalantly over the produce.
But today, the crimson fruit held more appeal in its vibrant color than its expected taste. Again, Khaldon caught himself thinking about where his capture had come from. There were no orchards in the city, so surely it had come from somewhere else, even if it were as close as several paces beyond the outer gate. Twenty years and he had never been through that gate. He had been tempted to, of course. Tristan didn't have the slightest care for where his 'son' was, and would probably not notice that he was missing for a week. It would be simple enough to pack up the nothing that he owned and saunter straight out into wherever he wanted to go...
However, not knowing where or how far you're going when you've hardly got a coin to your name is not the brightest of ideas. He could easily steal the money. Loose a few chickens and nick a few purses while heads are turned and one could have a pretty penny to show for it. In the process, however, he would surely strand several other people just as he was stranded now, and Khaldon would not wish such a life on anyone.
So here he would stay, at least a while longer. He would continue his simple, boring life of simple, boring oppression. He sighed heavily, throwing the apple into the air and catching it before it could land painfully on his nose.
All of this thought was starting to make even an honest job sound appealing.
By Heise
