The scribblings of an eccentric writer for your perusal

Smoke And Mirrors (1)

First few paragraphs of a work in progress.

I suppose one could say that I had been blessed with a life of happiness and contentment. My home, Sinom, was a centre of excellence. A place where ceremony was all and work was left to those who refused to abide by the tenets of Sinom. The Cultus, as they were called, lived on the outskirts of Sinom in specially designated areas, emerging only at night to tend to the city and prepare for the next day’s celebrations. I had only seen one once, scarpering towards its home as the sun started to rise. You see, Cultus were forbidden the sun. They could not emerge from their shaded residential and commercial areas during the day. But for me, Sinom’s beauty was astounding. The central tower was plated with copper, reflecting the sun’s rays throughout the city. The tower was surrounded by circular districts, like a great segmented disc, and gardens were set at the cardinal points of the compass, their precisely shaped lakes reflecting the light projected by the tower.


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