Pioquinto Creative Writing

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Name: Vincent Pioquinto

Paperweights...simply, Paperweights

There was a dream once. The dream had been filled with stars, an entire galaxy filled with planets all around, all condensed, all focused on one part of said galaxy…

That part of the galaxy, involved the 8 planets circling around what we call, the sun.
In the dream, however. The entire galaxy was still, seemingly lifeless, as if something higher than them had demanded their eternal obeisance, all of their focus...all of their everything.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the stars, the planets, the comets...everything. Everything was being drained of its color.

Perhaps, the one who dreamt of this had seen the future. The future of an empty, and still galaxy.
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Souls...the natural ones--the ones that a person had kept since birth--were so delicate...ever so delicate. One flick of deep depression would make it shatter, swept up and lost to the wind. Because of this, many people lost their souls around the ages of 14 to 16. The little girl, however...had lost hers when she was merely 3 years old. An uncommon, but not unheard of commodity. the start of one’s soul being lost, one wouldn’t know of it. However, as time would go on, with months passing, that person would begin to realize that..they didn’t laugh as much as they used to, nor did they feel any need to. They would begin to realize that they didn’t feel like laughing, crying, frowning, smiling, or even chuckle here and there. Slowly, they’d begin to merely work away at what they were doing, their expressions, emotions, and even their memories, simply lost, reducing the person to an empty shell that rotted away and
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Please...fix it, if you can.” “Well, I’ll be darned.” Said the Graysmith as he took the soul. After inspecting it a bit more carefully, he sighed, nodding. “I’ll see what I can do. Come back whenever if you’d wish to check up on it.” With a breath of relief, the young man would pay the Graysmith and leave, saying thanks.

Over the course of the next few days, Edmund returned, wishing to check up on the repairing of his soul. “Well, so far, everything’s going alright, however…” Edmund would say “However?” with a hint of fear in his voice. “It’s missing a few key components. I’m afraid that without them, I simply can’t repair it. I’m...I’m sorry.”

With a heavy heart, the young man, Edmund, smiled grimly. “Well. You tried. And for that, the very least I can do is give you this cake. My wife made it in order to thank you.” “Cake? R..really? No one’s ever given me cake before.” Edmund chuckled. “Well, enjoy it friend, I’ off, I guess. If there’s one thing I want to do before I...I turn into a shell of what I am now, before I lose the emotions needed to love my wife and little’ll be to spend as much time with them as
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