ok, i'm breaking my oath already... but i really like this story, and i want to see what other people think about it...

Whispers.
The wind and the rain and the sun and the children, all murmurs in the dark and the light. None of them know how it is, to be here in the brightness, vulnerable to the extreme, naked to their eyes and to nature.
Whispers in the air, tossed and manipulated by the coursing wind and the rain and the people. Whispers supplemented by the noise of shifting feet and arms. Eyes with their own whispers. Watching their own doom in abstraction, whispering softly and harshly into the wind.
Death is the unknown to them, the object of all their interest, and yet the one thing feared above all else, only by the absence of knowledge. It is uncomfortable, like the young child at the bedside of a dying elder, unable to comprehend the sheer monstrosity we call death. Monstrosity it is called. What else could it be coined as? What is death? Definition is what human minds live by, and to be without is unthinkable. As a lost child without the parent, understanding is forsaken without definition. And even now, the inability to limit the concept to the parameters of understanding, driving us slowly mad in the inability to define the indefinable. All the more reason to fear what makes us human.
And yet they still flock together and whisper.
Why are we attracted by our innermost fears? How is it that we love our fear? Why else would they come to witness the embodiment of all that they fear from the deepest part of their being?
The depth of the whispers grows, lowering in pitch and solemnity. Blasting out into the air, they hit like clubs and rocks and sting like bees and cut like dull daggers.
Whispers in the dark and the light. Identical. How is that to live, the same as any murderer or liar or thief?
….to die by the will of the people….crime of high….punishable by death…are they insane to allow something like this?….soul to be condemned to eternal flame in hell….there is none, only the hell we create in ourselves for the rest of the world….subject to the mercy of our almighty Lord….no forgiveness….mourn for those….not for this evildoer….

Evildoer, they call me now. But what is evil? Only that humanity has defined as evil. What is immorality? Only that which ancients long dead and decomposed defined as wrong. The power of death renewed over the will of the living.
Death is fascination and curiosity and even admiration.
Whispers in the dust, conjuring up the ghosts of thousands of others who have experienced that enigma called death. Whispers from rain and sunshine and darkness and clouds and every creature ever to live or have lived. All left from the weight of time and nature, diminished, eternal.
Death.
The smooth rasp of metal, raising slowly into the sun; blessed, yet evil in its own right. Ignorance is bliss, they say. But ignorance of what? Rather of pain and suffering, than of mistaken yet obviously evil deeds? Here recognized as being obvious, for even bless me, even I could tell when he were but a little baby, mercy was that only a decade or two or three ago, my the time flies, I could see it in his eyes, even then they were shifty, I could see he was up to no good, and much bad, and as you can see now my friend my instincts have done me justice the common sense of the masses develops with the passage of but a few moments, from ignorance to complete understanding of the one in question.
Whispers, within the crowd. Lies, all lies of no consequence. They didn’t know, nor did they care. They truly were the cattle and the sheep, vulnerable to the wolves. Too bad the wolves were crafty enough to wear the clothes of Little Bo Peep. …lost her sheep…
Metal on metal

“In other news today, a fanatic and heretic was executed today by guillotine. A short trial by military tribunal uncovered evidence that he was in fact running a ‘free will’ terrorist wing. Accomplices have not yet been named. The ‘free will’ movement is considered one of the most dangerous groups of fanatics today, comprising of writers, artists, and philosophers who believe that the regulation of the government on ‘free speech’ and ‘free expression’ is unjust. That’s all from the GBC, the Government Broadcasting Corporation. Have a wonderful night.”


so what do you think?