Tuesday, January 3, 2017

The Man from Grenin by Marc Tizura

It is a celebration in the city state of Kyteia. It is the Fiftieth anniversary of the fall of their enemy city state Grenin. The celebration ends in a panic stricken riot when a man shows up in the clothes from Grenin. He is promptly arrested and interviewed by Lt. Nathaniel Wilkics from the Kyteian army. The Man, as he is known, has no memory of who he is or where he is from. He begins to tell Wilkics a spiraling tale of waking up cold and naked in the abandoned city state of Grenin and what led to his arrest in Kyteia. The story of the ghosts of memory, dragons, a Witch Queen and her undead servants, a forest stuck in the season of fall and the creatures who dwell there.





Then it happened. An apple from seemingly nowhere rolled down the alley striking

the tip of the Man’s boot. He bent down to pick it up and looked up into the face of a

boy no older than six. The boy’s face was contorted into a look of unbelievable

horror and fear. The Man froze and swallowed hard. He raised his finger to his lips in

a shushing gesture.

“MAMA! MAMA!” the boy screamed.

People began to turn towards the alley, towards the boys screams. It was a moment

frozen in time or it seemed that way to the Man. He stood there with the apple in his

hand out stretched to the child. The boy stood there screaming. The people who had

turned stood there with surprised looks on their faces before any of them moved. The

parade had even stopped moving. Then the citizens’ paralysis broke and black

cloaked figures descended on him.

They grabbed him violently and lift him off the ground carrying him into the street to

the parade. He saw looks of sheer bewilderment, of hate, of fear, and of confusion.

He saw the boy’s mother grab him and squeeze him to her breast. He heard their

voices getting louder with the confusion. It felt like he was in some sort of dream. He

didn’t even struggle to get out of their grasp.

They threw him down into the street in front of the float. He landed, but he did not

feel the landing. The coat had done its job at protecting him, so did his skin which

had hardened for other reasons. He turned his head towards the mother and boy.

Watching her pitch the apple down the alley he had been pulled from. He then turned

his head to look up at Crone.

Crone, whose mouth hung slightly agape, took an involuntary step back at the sight of

the Man. The two officers flanking him looked at Crone unsure of what to do their

mouths also hung open. Crone shrugged at the two officers and the two turned their

attention back to the Man on his knees in the street.

The citizens yelled, screamed, pointed and whispered amongst them as Crone raised a

hand. The crowd went silent all attention was focused on Crone, like a pack of trained

seals or dogs the Man had thought.

“General Crone.” The Dictatus spoke from the jumbo-tron.

Crone turned his head to look up at the Dictatus on the screen behind him.

“Arrest that man.” The Dictatus said pointing in the Man’s direction.

Author Bio:

Marc Tizura is a native of Chicago Illinois. Marc Tizura is an actor and writer. Marc Tizura has a B.A. in Theatre from Columbia College.





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