Post by china on Jun 30, 2012 3:12:23 GMT -5
This was not rest. Being restful was an object to resent. China couldn't do it. He lay in the fetal position on itchy brown duvet covers while his heart beat like a hummingbird's wings would titter.
Inside every nation were people with hearts and spirits to wind them. Think of it as a children's cupboard of toys. Now imagine twenty thousand or four billion tricks and brand titles, all strung together under one name and one ocean like mind.
China took the initiative and stood to extend himself in a stretch of long tai-chi.
With practice, China had learned to pull one person's ideas out to read in his mind but it took insane invisible string work and he could barely ever do it. It took quietness too.
Holding his breath with cheeks inflated in concentration he picked one voice out.
He adjusted himself softly, turning his hands in without rippling his consideration.
"Too many people! What are we to do? The food quantity available is scarce! This is worse then the great leap forward taking our crops under the filthy government."
China's balance faltered momentarily and he made a sound like a whine.
"He doesn't know," China said to himself quietly, "... but he works so hard and his wife... they were never so bitter."
To an outside audience, China would seem to be stuck in a nightmare, conscious. This was what it was, truly. Truly.
"Even after what the mán zi did to us, if it was mine, I would say let them die."
The way his voice rasped shook China. This was why one person's opinion wasn't worth listening to, this was why absolute control was much more important right this instant then rights.
His stretch moved on to his legs and ankles, tightening their bonds with nicer pain.
Letting the 'foreign barbarians' (as the man had called them) die like trapped fish was something no one could allow. To demonstrate an act of demolition against the nearly overbearing other nation's people would kill him here. They would find him. China was acceptent. He could not even think of giving the boxer rebellion a sequel. The first time, the first punishment was dreadful enough.
Yet he managed a smile, building a mental wall against it.
China breathed a breath worth mentioning, trying not to fidget.
The scheduled was up.
Inside every nation were people with hearts and spirits to wind them. Think of it as a children's cupboard of toys. Now imagine twenty thousand or four billion tricks and brand titles, all strung together under one name and one ocean like mind.
China took the initiative and stood to extend himself in a stretch of long tai-chi.
With practice, China had learned to pull one person's ideas out to read in his mind but it took insane invisible string work and he could barely ever do it. It took quietness too.
Holding his breath with cheeks inflated in concentration he picked one voice out.
He adjusted himself softly, turning his hands in without rippling his consideration.
"Too many people! What are we to do? The food quantity available is scarce! This is worse then the great leap forward taking our crops under the filthy government."
China's balance faltered momentarily and he made a sound like a whine.
"He doesn't know," China said to himself quietly, "... but he works so hard and his wife... they were never so bitter."
To an outside audience, China would seem to be stuck in a nightmare, conscious. This was what it was, truly. Truly.
"Even after what the mán zi did to us, if it was mine, I would say let them die."
The way his voice rasped shook China. This was why one person's opinion wasn't worth listening to, this was why absolute control was much more important right this instant then rights.
His stretch moved on to his legs and ankles, tightening their bonds with nicer pain.
Letting the 'foreign barbarians' (as the man had called them) die like trapped fish was something no one could allow. To demonstrate an act of demolition against the nearly overbearing other nation's people would kill him here. They would find him. China was acceptent. He could not even think of giving the boxer rebellion a sequel. The first time, the first punishment was dreadful enough.
Yet he managed a smile, building a mental wall against it.
China breathed a breath worth mentioning, trying not to fidget.
The scheduled was up.