The Lover's Parable Through A Seven World Journey Read Online Free PDF Page A

that, under most circumstances, was otherwise unnoticeable.
    Henry Eugene Sanders was his full name. He was as equally well known in the city of Labor as John’s father, the Monster. He was the oldest person in the complex, perhaps even the oldest person in the history of Labor to not get sent to Restful Haven upon reaching such a late term in life. He was a rather plump man with a peculiar, horseshoe-shaped mustache that tapered inwards at the edges of the lips, giving him a rather somber demeanor, even if he was not actually feeling sad. His nose was somewhat round and large, supporting a pair of circular spectacles near its tip. He walked with a slow, steady gait, as if he were sore somewhere on his body that he was not complaining about. And although he was not short in stature, his suspenders held his pants a little higher than the waist, giving the illusion that he was lacking in the height department. He also had a distinct way of speaking, using exaggerated gestures with his arms and hands.
    “I’ve been watching you two,” he said.
    The corners of his mouth pulled back, creating ripples upon his pale cheeks, an odd half-smile spread across the left side of his face. It was a discomforting statement, to say the least. How long had he been watching them, she wondered, fearfully drawing the conclusion that he was going to turn them in to the Labor Security. The revelatory declaration was quite unnerving. As she was now unable to maintain eye contact with the man, Sofia nervously looked around the room.
    “I know that the two of you are thinking of running,” he said, turning and pointing toward the wall, in the direction of which the Savior set. “To the hills, right… out there?”
    For a brief moment the desire to lie began to build up within her, but Sofia refrained, choosing to remain silent instead. He seemed so sincere, in a foreign sort-of-way, as if he wanted to help, but, what his actual motivations were she could not discern.
    The cushions of the sofa were beginning to show their thinness as she fidgeted about in the seat, trying to get comfortable. Having both the physical and mental uneasiness at such a disconcerting time was nearly all Sofia felt she could endure. Her head was beginning to throb as she fought back the urge to let herself go, to completely and emotionally let her mind break down.
    Mr. Sanders began to open his mouth, as if to complete his thoughts, but he was caught unawares, interrupted by the muffled yelling and screaming emanating from John’s parent’s apartment across the way. It was beginning again, trickling through the door, instilling a fresh assault on the auditory senses. Casting his gaze in the direction of the voices on the other side, Mr. Sanders’ expression of concern revealed somewhat more to Sofia that his motives were other than malicious.
    “That boy’s getting a good lickin’ about now, yes indeed,” he mused before glancing back at Sofia. “But, I don’t want you to worry about that right now.”
    Placing the cups and porcelain plates, served with slices of bread, onto a two-handled tray, he gathered up their late morning refreshments. Steadily walking over to Sofia, he set the tray on the coffee table situated in front of her. Pulling up a chair with a matching, flowery-patterned seat, he sat down, simultaneously scooping up one of the teacups.
    His eyes disappeared behind his steam-fogged glasses as he lifted the cup to his mouth and took a sip, giving him the appearance of some kind of bizarre android with digitized visual organs.
    “Go on, now. Help yourself,” he said.
    Hesitating for a moment, Sofia politely gathered up her teacup and began to take a drink. Another muffled scream brought her to a pause. With a quivering lip, she eased the teacup away from her lips, forcing herself to swallow what sweet liquid had made itself into her mouth.
    “I was about your age when the misses and I met,” Mr. Sanders began again, picking up a tarnished