I feel like I just have to continue this because there's nothing better than having a small place to express yourself randomly. Read on.
Apex
An aged, worn, faded oaken door littered with intricate cuts and a dull mahogany color slowly swings open with a loud creak, twirling ungracefully atop its dated hinges, eventually coming to a stop facing the bright sun. The shadow it casts beautifully frames the stark contrast between light and dark, running a thick, straight line of dull black against the bright, blindingly light white of the illuminated pavement. At last, the unseemly creak ceases; from behind the long-standing door emerges a figure, standing upright with a raised chin and a regal air. A young man moves out onto the walkway, into the warm sunlight, his short, dirty-blonde hair lightening considerably.
The joyous, contented chirps of birds nearby wing into the air in conjunction with, as if to signal, the boy's bright hazel eyes turning upward. In mid-afternoon, the trailings of conversations in each direction float throughout the streets and add to the noise of the environment, yet today, it is quiet. As the birds wing away, their flapping wings leave a shuffling sound behind, then finally leave him in silence.
A delicate breeze wisps across, soaring beneath clouds lying in the azure sky, to toss his bangs up, caressing his form with its light touch, bathing the entire walkway with a cool, refreshing wind; a soft, contented smile edges its way across his face.
Nothing in particular is occurring today, no pre-scheduled events fostering excitement and anticipation, no random escapades to liven things up. No trips to take, plans to make or conversations to be had. Munich is quiet; everything is at a standstill; the entire scene seems unimpressive, disinteresting.
Yet to one who can look within the finer points of life and understand its meaning, no situation could be better.
The absence of plans simply means less things to worry about, to conform to. The absence of any to talk to simply leaves the opportunity to relish being alive, to feel the sun linger on one's skin, to enjoy the breeze as it floats by.
To Alphonse, a day like this is the apex of life, yet, for something as pure and uninhibited as life itself, any moment within it could be similar—that is what makes life itself the apex of existence.
A/N: I'm back, and I mean it this time, hehe. I'll never update as frequently as I used to, but I am working on several things. I'm considering, as amazing as it might be, returning to HWH (To Heal the Wounds of the Heart) to finish the last chapter or two, just for closure for the fans and for myself; at the same time, I'm working on Track 3 for Affluent Anarchy, my Champloo fic, and very soon now I'll finish and throw up a bunch of Death Note stuff I've been writing, because DN is freaking amazing.
Review if you can, though if you don't that's alright. The point of most of these is to be enjoyable and convey a meaning, and as long as you grasped the meaning from this one, my job is done.
Holla at me if you get a chance, about anything. Thanks.
LL