I wrote a short story part 1

The categorical imperative suggests that I have an imperfect duty to fulfill to any followers I might have (evidently, I have one complaint already!!)

So here's something I wrote, partially 'inspired' by a song called 'forest dreams' as well as 'daisies and the sun'. Both are piano instrumentals (with a little synthesiser/keyboard backgrounds) produced in the album Piano Spa 6 by Warner Music SG. (I infer that they are composed and played by Singaporeans). I don't think I'm able to post the song (and clearly I can't find them on youtube, which has similarly named but different songs) though. Also 'inspired' by a quote from W.H Davies's poem 'leisure' and an old aborigine saying (got it from the game Civ 5). I wrote it just for fun and for some relaxation from studying... don't expect anything spectacular. It was meant to be read while listening to the two piano songs mentioned and with your eyes closed at times to imagine the scenery. (As I do with a lot of music) I suppose a quiet environment would have a similar effect.

The story of the traveller in wandering wood

The traveller was tall and slim, and had hair hidden underneath his dark and tattered brown hood. He hurried along a leafy road in the wandering woods.

He was the second* to attempt such a feat, that is, to travel into these half-frosted woods. This autumn morn was warm and the wind was brisk, and fresh air pervaded the undergrowth. The traveller had eyes that were hazel as the dirt and wood and all that stood out was a small azure gem that hung around his neck.

He walked on into the day till a tall oak, the tallest of its folk. the traveller unveiled his hands from his cloak and touched the gem on his neck. And it glowed...

And this glow was strange, for it was a silent glow. It was silent because it did not make a sound, but made the whole forest grow louder instead, as if the wind blew just a little harder, and the sparrows chirped a little more noisily. The traveller placed his other hand on the great tree and spoke in his heart, 'where'?

And the tree which was tall and could see, spoke with a croak of a branch, which swung, gently. As if carried by the breeze, it pointed west; or was it just me?

End of Part 1
This song doesn't fit that well so don't listen while reading, but its still awesome... and I like the band.