|Pharl of Peril ~ Anagram Child|
This was my first story bid for a writers spot. I am still an akward writer (as some of you already know)
None-the-less, the old adage is true. Practice makes perfect.
So kick back, and let me entertain you for a bit. At the least, humour me :P
A word or phrase formed by reordering the letters of another word or phrase.
Formed by another person.
Honoring her surrogate father, she bares his cryptic name.
Brilliant professor in the Medifield with accolades and algorithmic theorems thought out of sheer nothingness. Genius was an understatement.
His greatest achievement was to raise a child in his own logical likeness. She was that child. Found in the gutter of the outskirts.
Under fed and tattered, like an old stuffed toy nobody wanted. Left in the rain and dried by the sun.
How he chose her to be his next of kin was never recorded in any national archives. An expensive luxury to be keeping secrets; let alone hiding a child. This legendary man and his gifts to the society, made no public appearances except for a standard public image.
A projection image of a man in a white lab coat and company logo emblazed across the right side of the garment, so no praise can be given to one person but to the whole corporation.
She knew this was true by the age of six.
The same time they noticed that she was ready to be trained.
Like a dream, she remembers his bittersweet voice with heavy German accent…
‘No tears for your papa, give me a big smile instead of these rain drops”
Closing her eyes, She forces the memories of that face. Her mind could only remember fragmented blurry images, but to take comfort in these thoughts was enough for her.
She could not rely on her memories of him. If he had wider set eyes or a smaller aquiline nose, she couldn't be so sure. With a code trade for digital memory therapy she could remember who he was. This day and age, anything could be bartered with good tech and a high-ranking position.
But digital memory therapy was no different then going to a psychic. It was not exact science or reliable.
“Little girl, what is this?”
“It’s my name”
“Can you see my name too?”
“Oh yes papa, I spelt it here”
“Good, you know who you are”
A fitting name for a child who’s was hand picked to be part of his private life, and not a creation of his life’s inventions.
He is closer to her now.
(January 21st, 2004, 3:14 am)
I liked it because of the emotions it evoked. The style of writing was fitting for the content, you needn't struggle with that.
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