Monday, 3 November 2014

My Cities Travlogue

Walking through the tall, golden glazed gates, embodied with Persian charm and grace, towering over you in a blazing display, are statues of the Gods that the people worship. In the distance, not hardly miss able you can see their goddess and her pet stand high above the clouds watching over the people as they go about their daily lives. Surrounded by curved-lined pyramids tipped of diamonds, sapphires, emeralds and topaz. The fashioned styles of the people immerse you into a world of colour, patterns and design that can only be found under this marvelous creator.
You walk through the streets dazed by the blooming of colour, the sleek, slim build of the lampposts. The d├ęcor of the bench, begs you to place you self upon it and stare into the eyes of the woman who stares back at you. The shrubbery is not of leaves but of fur, silk and cotton, woven into leaves and twigs that are coloured in the seasons of winter, spring, summer and fall. You walk through the seasons, seeing statues of zodiacs and creatures whom which you wouldn't expect to see at all.
Walking through the parks of the seasons you will experience each season with ease. There is no need to worry about feeling the heat or the cold, you will always be the same temperature – that is the  environmental  bonus of being in this city. In the spring you can see tamed satyr, dancing around the lake of merfolk singing to the nymphs of the 4 seasons. In the winter, if you are lucky, you will catch a glimpse of the infamous winter queen who reigns in the North Mountains. In the fall you can on all hallows, catch a glimpse of the terrifying headless horseman and the giant turkey. In the summer, there may be a possibility of witnesses the statues of Adam and Eve reacting their creation and downfall.  
If you were to stand upon the roof of the greatest factory you can see all of the city before you, the crescent-boat homes, moored on the still river, glowing like lights surrounded by stars, that winds its way to the goddess’ base. There is a stretch of tops to the east, all different colours that span across the empty lands beyond the wall. For you are lucky to come at this time of year, the markets bustle well and the circus is showing is special show. You will be amazed to see some of the famous statues become alive in the act of beasts. It’s rather hard to miss as everyone is talking about it over their beaded lines, circuits of wires draping from building to building. For every call a gem grows on the line, and those gems change in accordance to the call. When the line is too heavy for the jewel, the jewel drops and is collect as harvest and tribute to the goddess in the temple under her feet.
The more jewels that are tribute the greater to profit the people gain for their produce. The better the material for their imaginative patterns gets, the richness of their fruits tame the beasts of the circus and keep them subdued under their control. The people may not believe in the one god, but they know that anything exists, even the most confound idiotic idea. There will be something of it in the world, in the city, created by the Goddess.
You will always wonder how this city came to be, why it was built, in all honesty, no one knows. It just appeared under the statue one day and people moved right in. There are always room for new members of the steaming community. The center park welcomes new comers with instructions on how to join the city life. For those who have lived here the longest, age has been kind, the jewels grown from the numerous number of calls can be melted down by a smith and the steam from them can be filtered through the city and allows the woman to bath and the men work under the steam fans in the factories. The long you stay young, the longer you can stay. For once you leave the world, the city, your body is removed from the premises as to not disturb the goddess’s divine work.

The magic of this world stretches far beyond the goddess, beyond the star lights dangling from the tops of houses, beyond all that you could imagine. For you walk through this world, and make it your own. Take your own place among the crowd, among the history that is this city. Taking a look from one the mountains, the outside wall, faded from war and the impact of the weather still holds some of its Persian charm. There is little left on the west wall after the last war, this is where the traders make their guilds shine with jewels and gowns of grace and high standards. From here you can see the divination between the classes, the lighter and brighter the colour, determines how offer you can afford to sew new clothes. Although the lesser folk still look gracious and dress with pride, they cannot always afford the new silk, clothe and jewels to lade their bodies with each month, you will also find that outsiders are rarely welcome unless they display aspects of the city within in them that is reflected in the river by the tree of knowledge. The branches of this tree remind you of a weeping will expect made from satin and silk, beaded and entwined wire reach into the river and with some arcane magic given by the temple can reveal in the pool, that persons deepest inner intentions, their style, their worth of the city and all its inhabitants. If you did not pass then you were not admitted into the city at all.
If you choose to leave the city before fully experiencing it, or paying tribute to the Goddess, you shall never find the city again as it will come across as a mirage, a trick of the mind, cause only those pure of heart can find the city, it is deemed unworthy that you shall not partake in the practices of the people.


Word count: 1045

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