The Space Effect
Copyright 2016 Heqi Wang
Discover other titles by this author:
One of the Wolves
The Future Girl
The Story of Kapesing
…and so much more!
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“Whoever ventured here will not deal with such circumstances of torture of statements of time being the face on hearth.”
“Raising the gun to your face doesn’t discern from different families you contain on your window sill.”
“Separated braids of love ties into beginning era whose dormitory braced for mistakes in disaster daring me to conquer the unconquerable won’t combine in distaste for me when I brush my hair.”
“I want you to relax as soon as possible decision is ascertained and don’t live blindly for long.”
“Without love, I’ll still love my proclaimed one and only. I mean, shit is the dominant truth.”
Table of Contents
Pre-resident note
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Chapter four
Epilogue
About the author
Pre-resident note~
Part 1
I believe it was some time that ash falls and lengths of people integrations without the speech of grave endings that I saw through the cosmos outside my bed and the floating airheads with some of public landings. To be truly in a place of sense and sincerity you would have to travel distances far and wide from the point of the Earth we stand now. I have hoped that one day I will reach it. When it is that time again to eat my dinner, when is it time to feel drowsy when I wake up? Birds and nature remain forever eminent and ah, beach balls passed with haze. So then, I did dream of a wondrous miracle and it was so much abased that I couldn’t pound to think of another divine trace to represent it’s in stupidity. On the one afternoon when my friends and I crept into the van she drove for a night out movie day watching Dare.com. We gained some speed as she drove past the mountain dresses and the van finally hit a halt onto a dead spot when only one tire struck dead. Dommie reached for the disheveled wasted tools and fixed it right away. Tressan, Fope and I continued our paths with a gaze.
The Retro Movie Theater was destined to faint as people swooped in and out with drizzled hopes of discrepancy intercepted frailness drawn faces on their bodies. Wondering whether it’s a big world out there, wondering where is the next best thing is what them cats are all thinking. It may be, but Fope paid for our tickets manually and us four entered in the downy strange black out room with the big wide screen glowing for out prizes which was our envy that we were not in the time frame of the movie. Maybe it was mocking us that it’s so lame we entered right on time and you do know anything that exists can talk and I believe at this moment shadows fall all around with the short time frame of the pigments in the images.
A short sneeze from down below where we sat and strangers remain strangers. From above me some Thing poured hot popcorn about my head landing all over on my white tank top, kind of staining it. I turned around to give a freak. It was dark though but I had an intention of where he was and how he sounded like. He spoke to me with a straight drawl, “miss, I think it’s time for you to leave. You are the only one left.” Freak. How did he…and where did my friends go? Anticipating ahead of time, killjoys are always existent. I smirked in the dark nicely, “You don’t look tall.”
And then I was picked up with his somewhat muscular arms and taken to the van I was in before. He smelled of peppermint and his t-shirt was like the ocean waves. “Bye.” I stood there waving my hands at him with my friends behind me. Some people are stuck sometimes, because next thing I knew he and Tressan were talking amicably in the car as we drove past everything behind. There was nothing I needed to know, so I zoned out and fell asleep, lightly.
Tomorrow, Saturday, came fast. Scientists try to figure out the speech I wrote in Lunch room. Then was time for a drink. As age 19, I grabbed for a top of sparkling ginger and set my way home from all those chatter that came from 13 year olds. Disaster hit on the way walking home. Panes of snow mixed with mountains of rain filled my darkened vision. I was blind just enough. I tinged at the cold cool calm and stretched my backpack to drain the walk home. My raincoat was subtle to the unruly white clear colors when you don’t even reckon that fright was passing.
I brightly got home with the innards dry and found my little brother with a new pet. He played very drastically on the violin no tries. I looked down at the little puppy. It grained of me. “…came to our house!” My little brother said excitedly. And the same guy was behind me. Speak of the grasshoppers.
“Okay, who are you really?” I demanded to not know.
He grinned comically, dribbled the basketball in his hands on my hardwood floor and of course, looked sexy as hell. As if waiting for my patience, which I have plenty, he said to me, “I’m you co worker-ahem, partner-”
Then my brother goes away. “-for space ‘in-cubation’.” Then he looks down at me, “you any good?”
I didn’t want to say, not because I kind of know him, Treaxury, but the mere fact that our space program’s president deemed to fall into the awkward direction playing anxious doubting and its extreme impact of it is failing to his lower workers is dreamed for to be part of a big league and us, the one small part of a large Galactocous arena will not dire to be winners, seemingly since our entire range is juristic. I remember I used to be small and experienced to everything floating around in masses, but I still keep the memories into my mind where they are scrapbooked incisors to lodge into my brain forever and then I will forever be recalling to my motherhood of deer to fawn. Whence big things occur, opium wars, triathlons, media explosions, analogs claim to be an inviting diary of what we used to be, stuck in the past life. Nevertheless, I want to be winners, and by scoring high I can see the paradise beyond those trunks mixed branches still elevating so that when I grope to the top, I depend on myself for the incoming tasked of relief for happiness. When I think of news media, it seems as if we are always stuck to the top; when stupid bottom is so near too.
Trea and me, we have dinner together. He is very masculine I can see that, birches crowded his eyes. He wasn’t troubled of some sort, but clearly direction un-depended. And I couldn’t say this wasn’t anything nice when nothing catches my view so quickly. For once, my parents didn’t come home. Mr. and Mrs. Pomswen were to be used as Microsoft test subjects for now. It became nice, a new day, and when the thunderous pounding came, Trea and I slept together, my little brother taken away too.
Ticking, mimicking, districting, swimming clouded my mind. When we used to say jeep bombs and androids discrepantly floated away. Tire tracks didn’t stop looking like dinosaur prints and milk was the beginning of an ice age. Forbidding somewhere the gems of witches wedding rich boxes stole cool morning gazes without each other’s presence. Time allotted for us was collecting like glass like watches. Old fashioned country boots filled with mud trained my awareness of certain pickpockets whereas the microphone was huge but one’s mouth was small. Didn’t come today.
Trea left my house and didn’t come back. For four hours, he pummeled in the snow was not my intentions. Although for dinner, I did see a grayish red spirit flashing past my window.
The door slammed behind me; I went outside.
Either a wolf bit Trea or Trea was folding a red pillow. Hilarious tidbits cloud my mind. So the nearby wolfies called for a rematch. Trea recognized me with discerning eyes, then all the wolves prowled onto him. I knew he was able handed but this was kind of funny. I also couldn’t turn away.
When he got home he shook his shoulders and went into the shower. The next day we got fur hides. I gras
ped a laugh. It’s still kind of funny.
“We’ll need these if we want to go into space,” was what he said.
We had a pillow fight the following day, mainly because I cursed at the wind and from those blizzards forgetting seemed so small. At 3 pm our team was called to the Miestro Space station. Apparently the old president died of pancreas cancer, in pancreas pain. Official Krupt reporting our status turned in our heels and rushed for his record notebook to date our presence and entrance into the Micro Dome. The cylindrical building more or less zoomed into view as Treaxury and I got closer. Sometimes, up the escalator, we stepped onto gleaming platforms of new modernism. So it was 3019 and we were the first ones to leave, considering this frame of our high status.
In the Godium filled triangular capsule we made starting 30 years ago, the lever we pulled launched us far behind into plain blue skies from high beyond and soon, too fast to look down, were landed into a space station after our lunch break. The cruels of Misses escorted us out as we represented the Godium type. More officiated classmen in black suits and lavender neck ties greeted us in private discussions for the next plan, for it was no longer a game but we are the winners and have to accomplish severe tasks, not to save anything, they covered, however we still need to gain the resources for better findings or types of rooms insidiously how hard or difficult it may be, being the boss of one thing or another is trying to tirelessly accomplish; its from top over or reckless driving we all still need this piece of merchandise. They nod in unison and one of them Johne takes to give a bow at my hand. Expect some gases too.
They put us alone. We had to make sense, to take complete control of the physics, gravity reeking of order, just in just way, we can accomplish. So therefore the beautiful bonding molecule was made, stashed big in disguise, flowery white and completely like camouflage. Some terms was ready. Duels were made.
“You look nice.” Treaxury shrugged one shoulder at me.
“oh. Yeah.” I was wearing my nice sunflower dress notifying me to cover up in ruins.