Monday, 9 April 2012

The living lightning

  She was born in the middle of an earthquake. The moment I first saw her I knew she wasn't really human. She was a lightning brought to life, electricity in a human body. The others gave her some name but I never bothered to remember it. To me she was just Spark.
  I was among the first to hold her when she and her mother came out of the hospital and it was in my arms when she smiled for the first time. And I could see her seeing me, seeing everything like no one could. She had a mesmerizing aura and a soothing presence that made you want to lay the world at her feet. All she wanted though was to be free.
  She's a bit older now and I can see she's forgetting who and what she is. But that spark in her eyes will never fade. My little living lightning. She has the power to change the world, make it more beautiful, to melt hearts and bring joy. And all she wants is to be free. Like a lightning should.
  I will wait for her to grow up and if she wants me to I'll tell her what she is. And I'll teach her how to be free. But until that moment comes I'll sit back and watch her change the world, watch her burn away the darkness of the eons past and shine the way to a brighter future. My poor little living lightning. She bares one of the biggest burdens - she was born for greatness.

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