It has been quiet for too long. It does not feel. It does not see. It only remembers. It remembers the bright colours, the voices, the seas. The feeling of being drowned in the noise. It remembers being pulled under and suddenly peaceful silence. But it yearned to see daylight again. It yearned to smell, to feel, to taste. It yearned to feel something, anything. It likes that quiet, but it yearns for life, like all things do. It seeks the surface. And now, after centuries of rotting, it can feel something. It can control something. A small ball of light floats toward it in the darkness. The light it warm, the light is nice. The light is a spark. The light helps it think. The light helps it breathe. Soon, it will see real light. It has been quiet for too long.
I'm writing another book He I cannot stick to one book idea lol (•ω•`)
