
 '##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
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  ##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #470 !!
  #########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS!  !!
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  ##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: "Gefallen Von Der Anmut"                 !!
  ##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: by -> Meenk                              !!
 ..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 1/27/99                                  !!
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        He used to be irked by the way she would dance around him, poking
 fun at his somber attitude and reproachful scowl.  She would giggle and
 smirk, shedding downy feathers about as she pranced in circles around him.
 He would glare and insult her for her foolishness, imploring her to let
 him brood in peace.  She would retreat for a short time but soon return
 to force him into silly conversation.  Couldn't she see that he had more
 important things to think about than his favourite colour or food?  It
 was none of her business anyway. 

        He sternly shooed her away when she approached, and eventually she
 decided his gloom was all he cared to explore.  She carried her laughter
 and light somewhere else.  As time passed she would occasionaly cast a
 glance at the man in the shadows, but he never looked her way.  She amused
 others with her antics, smiling upon them and trying to brighten their
 days.  He watched from afar, pondering what the others saw in her childish
 games and penny philosophy.

        One day he looked and she was gone.  It appeared she had found her
 keeper, a man who could delight in her whimsy and appreciate her rose
 coloured world.  He went back to his meditation.  No more distractions
 from his obsession and his muse.  He focused on his feelings for the
 silhouette of a woman the two created.  Meanwhile, she tried to fly.

        On a lonely summer night he heard a cry, a weak call for help on
 the night breeze.  He went to his window and looked outside, seeing what
 appeared to be a gentle snow.  Fluffy white flakes falling down from the
 sky, resting on the ground but not melting.  He went outside and examined
 the street.  It was not snow, but feathers, almost like the down shed upon
 him by the girl with the wings.  These were different though.  Larger, not
 the down naturally shed with movement, but actual feathers torn from the
 wings.  He looked into the sky and saw her, caged on a pedestal in the
 house of a god.  Her tears fell on his face like rain, washing away the
 some of the dirt he had allowd to collect there while chasing a shadow.

        He went back inside wondering whether or not to interfere.  He
 paced his room, pitying the poor girl in the cage, but not needing any
 more troubles of his own.  He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror
 and was shocked to see a hint of beauty there.  Could it be that he was
 beautiful under the dust and grime?  No, it was probably just a trick of
 the light.

        He climbed upon his roof and called out to the caged girl, "Girl,
 why do you weep?"  She peered at him with red swollen eyes.  "My keeper
 placed me in this cage, and handed me down to his drudge.  I am tainted."
 She looked away from the man, ashamed.  He frowned and asked what she had
 done, a question which she could not answer.  He began to climb down when
 she called out, "Please, don't leave me alone.  Talk with me just a little
 more."  He nodded and sat back down, trying to think of something to say.

        "Would you like to hear something I wrote?" he asked the girl.  She
 nodded and he began to tell her stories.  He told her of his muse and his
 obsession, his sorrow, his desire, and of his ties to her god.  She
 sighed, knowing too well the power of obsession and the beauty of the
 muse, for her god was blinded by her radiance.  She told the man of her
 god creating for the muse a guilded cage, to be placed on an even grander
 pillar than her own.  She told of how she hated the muse, hated the power
 she held over her god, hated that she was given away so the muse could
 take her place.  The man sighed.  He began to speak of the actual act of
 writing, of concocting stories, the difficulties he had.  She nodded and
 shared her difficulties, her insecurities about her creations.

        Suddenly there was a crash of thunder and the window through which
 he saw her disappeared.  Hard rain erupted from the sky and he scrambled
 down from the roof, finding shelter from the raging storm.  It rained long
 and hard, lightning flashing continuously like a strobe, thunder shaking
 the house every few seconds.  Then, as suddenly as it began, it ceased.
 The sky cleared and the stars shone bright.

        He heard her call his name.  He climbed back out and saw her extend
 her pale hand through the bars of her cage.  "I'm sorry.  Everything is ok
 now. My god has run to your muse for comfort."  He scowled at the caged
 girl and replied "So why not break free?  Your god wouldnt care.  Leave,
 fly on your own."  She sighed deeply and drew her hand back into the cage.
 The window disappeared into the sky and he retreated to his room.  Each
 night he would look into the sky, but the window was never there.

        One morning he ventured out and noticed a trail of her feathers.
 He followed the feathers and found her huddled in a dirty alley.  "So you
 did it, you escaped."  She shook her head and began to weep.  "He kept me
 like a flower, but without his love I wilted.  He threw me away."  She
 pulled her wings tightly around herself and he noticed places where the
 feathers had fallen away.  Underneath the skin was scaly, black and shiny
 like obsidion.  Just as sharp, just as hard.  "What happened to your wings,
 girl?"  She spread her wings and displayed for him the armor which had
 begun to replace the beautiful down.  "I am tired of being hurt, of not
 being able to fly.  I can't live like this anymore."  He extended his hand.
 "Try to fly, you are free now."  She smiled at him then turned away.  "I
 can't fly.  Not even if I wanted to."  He frowned as he watched her try to
 lift her wings.  She could barely manage the weight of the black scales
 and could not extend her wings.  The burden caused her to slouch against a
 building.

        He helped her walk to his home, promising her he would help her fly.
 She tried to bear most of the weight herself and admonished herself for
 leaning on him.  He laid her in his bed and tended to her, slowing the
 growth of her shell, but unable to stop it from encrusting her wings.  He
 was concerned because he had been called upon by the gods to defend his
 land and she wasnt capable of walking on her own, let alone flying.  She
 wanted so much to be able to shed the armor and fly so he did not have to
 worry about her while he was away.

        He worked with her every day, trying to teach her how to bear her
 burden, and finally the scales began to give way to new feathers.  Her
 burden becoming lighter, her will becoming stronger.  He was proud of her,
 and she was elated by the fact.

        She was almost ready to test her wings when he was called to leave.
 He held her and stroked her wings, telling her she could fly on her own
 and that he would find the strength to go on, knowing that she could fly.
 She sighed and turned away from him.  She was still weak.  She was back
 where she started and didn't know how to progress.  He sighed and checked
 the time.  He had to go.  There was nothing more he could do for her.  He
 looked to her and saw in her eyes that she knew.  She stood, put her arm
 through his, and they walked into the street.  She kissed his cheek and he
 caressed her wings.  They went their seperate ways.

        She thought of him often, and he thought of her.  Both keeping in
 touch, neither mentioning the daunting unknown.  Both damned, to be
 carried by the hands of fate.

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 !! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS!    HOE #470, WRITTEN BY: MEENK - 1/27/99 !!
