Fists of Steel
He stood motionless, staring at the blank wall.
What was that thing in Eragon? Those metal studs embedded in the knuckles of a dwarf? Oh yes. Ascûdgamln. The punch-through-anything fists of steel.
He looked down at his own hand. At the steel studs protruding from his balled fist. He looked up at the wall. So … unblemished. Raised his hand and—
—watched as the little pieces of plaster fell from where his fist had punched a hole through the cement. He jerked his hand free, dislodging more pieces which made little pattering sounds as they fell on the wooden floor.
There. That felt better. It didn’t change anything though. It never did.
He stood motionless, staring at the blank wall. Smooth and undamaged once again.
Comments
Oooh! I like!
I don't think I've read anything from you like this.
Thanks! =)
And yeah, I don't think I've posted this kind of stuff here before.
This is cool, dunno how I missed it =/ And yeah, very not you! After reading the Standing Still piece, I noticed how this one had a similar theme through it. Acting, not acting, trying to act. And what matters in the end.
Liked the Eragon reference, made it stand out, somehow. Despite having a word I couldn't pronounce :p
This isn't actually that similar to the other one :/ At least, it's not supposed to be. It's more like, stuff that's out of one's control but one wishes something could be done about it.