Whispers of Sinners…

It’s cold outside, so is inside. Blankets are gone, clothes are wet, souls are naked and truth is creepily floating everywhere.

Once feelings start heating, waves of cold breeze come flying to shave away any burning residue with jackets of shivers.

A camp in the middle of nowhere. Collection of lies are burning to keep us alive. Every once in a while, someone throws a bunch of them in the middle to keep the fire burning brighter. As I started not to feel the tips of my fingers, I carry myself away searching for more lies to burn.

All those who have consumed their shares are now out for more. The bigger the body, the heavier the prey. I went away searching for treasures to collect. As I went farther, I start hearing whispers calling me to move towards them. Trail of sinners’ whispers making amends. Following them, I come across a vast white ground filled with large white rocks. So white you’ll think some clouds have decided to take a rest down here, then got mesmerised by the beauty of the place that they took it as a home to reproduce and grow more clouds from those big rocks. Soft to the eye, yet hard to the touch. Each is filled with the fire’s most desirable lies. I went for a rock half my size, yet failed to even move it a bit. Someone saw me trying, then came for help. They always come for help. Together, we were able to carry it leaving behind clear footprints on the muddy ground covered in snow. Everyone’s moves are trackable here.

Now we are back, I stand still from the horror I saw right before me. People throwing themselves into the fire willfully as others are watching in peace.

Some are craving themselves to be the heat that warm others.

Some are fearing the cold living.

Some are too weak they can’t carry any more rock, for the massive strength each requires.

My eyes got used to the scene immediately, then I went back to my place to lie across the fire allowing the heat to hug my body, and pat my weeping muscles from what they’ve been through.

As we keep our forever wait for the sun to come out, you hear stories being whispered out loud by everyone, but not just any kind of stories. Beautiful made up stories with characters that were created to be whom we can’t be, to do the impossible, and live freely from the living. Sins are expressed to be part of the journey to a sinless place. Virtues are not to be proud of to suppress the arrogant and egoistic selves.

Tales are usually born out of real events, yet here tales are to give birth to real events told only through the whispers of sinners.

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