Fairfield High School - Talon Yearbook (Fairfield, CA)

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With a sound they are released. Like a storm swept tide from a bursting sea, the whimpering slaves rush past the iron god. They flow in a humble procession beneath his throne as he exhibits to them a mocking s tare o f indifference. The flood of servants continues, each one performing as the master has taught. They look up to the bell-god and see in his eye an ominous glow, they hurry on their way, not daring to insult the gift of his grace. He rapidly grows tired of their subservient faces, and moves impatiently on his throne. There begins a race to reach sanctuary before the ringing of his fury announces the end of the game. He looks out at the flood as it receeds back to where it had come. l-le watches those children who remain scu tter to the safety of their cages as he tills his lungs with a deadly breath. Then, with a sound, they are confined. .Hi 1' vp. I ' . 44,1-lf!'l fxks 'xii -4 ' ' f 1 ',,jf,' H . QEFP. v te L' ' 6 ,Ti .. 'QQ:, - ab 4 s . -12 141. ' 'mf-'.:' ' . .c

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A f- 'T , jzf::f:s3g'o:v'f 2 ' , K' 3 I f . Q...- Stacherine suspiciously assumes another desk in another room and produces instruments to construct an idea. Before him on neatly lined paper rests a pen. He grasps the slender cylinder. E xpertl y he rolls it over a pattern of callouses that have grown from years of contact with its plastic skin. He unscrews the top with a surgeon's skill and unsurprisingly finds the inner tube. Cautiously, he removes the golden spring from its molden holder, and lays the fully dissected creature before him. l ts mangled body rolls independently in pieces around the table. Stacherine rescrews it- unscrews it- unscrews it until an illusive thought flows concre tel y in his mind. The pen checks over the thought with a consumers apprehension. Then with a gluttonous appetite, it lashes out and secures a hearty bite. l t digests the nourishing portion and excretes it in fluid upon the paper. Stacherine looks at the humbled thought-bit off chewed up, spit out, and wonders if the scribbled jarblings could ever seem like words again. A .Q M 1 CV 5: 3, i 2 fi ii J .14 1 T I .