Just Stone

He stood at the end of the hallway in the hotel just looking at it. His mind told him that there was no way a sculpture could just appear. As a science teacher, though, his curiosity was up. There had to be a logical explanation. He must have simply not noticed it before. He inched towards it, holding his breath. Even though he was a logical person, he was still human. Still run by human emotions. But why was he so terrified? It was just a statue right? However, he could not shake what he was feeling. He was now standing a foot in front of the face of a young boy on a pony. Reaching out, he knocked twice on the cold, stone surface. Definitely marble. It resonated with a hollowness that oddly unnerved him more than it calmed him. "See," he told himself, "just stone." He repeated this, trying to ignore the hot bursts of air he suddenly felt on his left hand. The hand directly in front of the pony's nose.

The Rogue Servant

A strike and suddenly life, force, energy where there wasn't any before. This nameless force shivers and shakes. It appears so fearful, and rightly it should be. I feel a draft and watch this servant obediently bow. It gracefully submits or possibly cowers to the invisible king. It's as if it knows that with enough force, the king could extinguish its very existence. But when the king leaves, he stands up tall and straight seizing the opportunity to now cast fear into others. He causes tears from those around him to pool at his feet. The shadows dance for him. The darkness runs away. The captives pour out fragrance in his honor. He smells of victory, and for a moment, he is king. His power comes from the immense heat he radiates. No one can touch him. They all shy away. He doesn't realize that those tears will eventually overtake him. The shadow dance will stop. The darkness will return. The fragrance will run out. He never suspects a thing when the invisible king returns in all his might. He overthrows the rogue servant, taking his life, his force, his energy. And just as quickly as he came, he's now gone. The last glow of his soul fading from his throne. His ghost rising until it becomes just a memory. The scent of death lingers, replacing the once pleasant fragrance. And he waits, for another strike, another chance to reign in his glass prison.