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The End of the Line · Original Minific ·
Organised by RogerDodger
Word limit 400–750
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Ocean Blue
It stared into the ocean blue, wondering where the world grew,
so dreary in the darkness of the night, stars hidden from its sight.
Shivering It held its gaze, attempting to hold itself with the haze
of cold cider mishaps blurring its eyes and windy spirits chilling its spine,
but that didn’t remove the fact that among the trees soaking the limelight of the world,
on a shoreline with rocks and sand all about and a desire waiting for the time to shout,
It stared into the ocean blue.

Another stood across from It, her eyes searching for something
that bore within the nature of the one who stood across from her.
She wanted to open her mouth, lips curling slightly in wonder,
an eyebrow raise accompanying it too, but with the swiftness of thunder
roared a mighty wave asunder, shattered her curiosity in two,
and smashing into the one who kept itself staring into the ocean blue.

It felt as if the blue became closer, nestling itself around It like a blanket.
Yet in the darkness of the night blue blankets turned into encroaching blank walls
that shocked the one trapped in Its grasp, closing in till the last
breath was breathed by the one who stared into the ocean blue.

She screamed as the wave hit It with sheer force that could break any horse
whose gallop was accompanied by the fear of divorce,
and a drivel of memory of the one who was It,
sitting on a chair at the bar an hour ago,
where It sat lonely, drinking cold cider till drunk mishaps blinded Its desire.
Stumbling out, It had left the bar, not without the worry of the janitor patrolling the halls.
The gait of It felt lost and stinted, perhaps by the mind of a cider-driven misprint
labeled in the guide of one who stood distant,
as she stared into the ocean blue.

It felt last breaths fleeting, running away to somewhere more repeating
of a memory it once knew that was not mixed with several brews
of a drink the bartender concocted behind Ocean Blue.
The sign glimmered in a light blue light, neon and full of everything bright,
and not affected by the dark shroud of the night, which kept It from making sense
of the massive wave that It had never knew could come from the ocean blue.

The sign flickered tonight. She needed to turn off the light.
Behind a protective husk of bark and concrete, she watched It fall.

Days later, an article drew the attention of them all who were there that night,
drinking heavy liquor in their large mugs full of the precious ocean filtered blue,
but now they sit melancholy, dripping new oceans of blue from the eyes
that did not behold the tragic news of It, who stared into the ocean blue.

Downcast eyes she had in her gloom, remembering a time
when memory of It bloomed in the limelight
of a world where the ocean was once calm and blue.
But at night in the shroud of darkness, behind thick clouds of new
caused a wave so massive in size for goers on the shoreline
that those who stayed were to be eaten by the one they marveled.

With sadness she carried herself to that place.
She sat herself down, sand becoming displaced.
Gaze centered on the spot where It died, she stared at the spot.
Rocks gathered all about, some sharp and some dull,
while sand graced the impact zone, some creating a small little safe pocket.
Unfortunately it wasn't enough for It to survive, its head smashing against
the tough stones similar in shape of large rockets
that had heads ready to launch to the skies
and mercilessly bombard tender eyes of men and women of all kinds.
Sighing, she turned her attention to somewhere nice.
The ocean blue, what a sight.




The ocean was calm. The winds had died down.
It was almost time for evening. She had sat there long.
But remembering a time when she saw It standing at the place where she now sat
set her mind on a trip through a shroud of darkness all too familiar to a drinker with a guise.

And there, with a cold cider in hand, she stared into the ocean blue.
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