Clocktober #1 - The Novel of Vico N' Moro (Part 1) by Clockchat, literature
Literature
Clocktober #1 - The Novel of Vico N' Moro (Part 1)
Vico's notebook was no pushover. It wasn't submissive in the slightest, opening and closing itself whenever it felt like it. Sometimes, words appeared on its pages without anyone's intervention. This usually happened when Vico had distanced himself from writing for a long time. This didn't make him happy, but he had no right to complain. He was responsible for this, after all. Creating something didn't mean he had control over it.
Thinking of this on his way home made for anxious steps. The notion robbed him of all peace. To his misfortune, a few blocks away, the cycle began anew. The notebook's cover opened on its own and the daily protest
I find myself in the woods. It's autumn, the leaves are orange and brown, and the ground is covered with them. The trees are majestic and tall: maple, oak, and redwood. The light filters through them with a soft glow. It seems to be near dusk. The ground slopes gently upward, and as I look back I see that I am near the edge of the trees. No. The hill slopes down to a small path. At least, it seems to be a path. There is gravel or signs of travel, just a small flat surface before the ground slopes up again on the other side.
There is no sound. Not the chirp of a bird, or the chatter of a squirrel, nor even the sound of the wind which is blowi