XXX
The light shattered into a beautiful piece, still emitting light as the last. From Jack's whereabouts, it would look like a dull star deeply asking for their responsive attention and was constantly looking upon them, but they never bothered. One brought half of the carcass down to his mouth and starting ripping flesh off of it while the other was pinching dozens with his steel fingers and eating them one after another.
The piece then shaped itself another sphere of light, shaping like the pink waning moon. Spherical, crater-filled and another ambitious entity of one's goal is to become a body above, and it did. It was small, like a piece of a boulder, and it needed to feed. It stayed put unto its place and waited from boney vultures and the grey white eagles to pass through its very radius, and they were sipped it. One by one, and for every bird it took came along the difference upon its size, however small and unnoticeable they might had become. The star-like moon continued to feed into the fears of others, for one day he would be the key that Jack and Micael were looking for this very long time, and one would never notice unless the crippled, incandescent-to-blue moon started to send himself noticed inside the very parameters of Jack's quite universe, and sooner, the open gates.
XXXI
And the night went across the very streets on the way of the British streets. The chauffeurs then commanded their horses to halt to a stop abruptly, causing the wheels too screech upon the brakes and slide on the road, and some omnibuses slid for a few feet, some were just unnoti-ceable as the took a stop in from of an inn. Wailer's Inn was the name of the structure with lights and flowers adorning their front and some small angelic figures on its facade. There were posters which was hanging from poles. Some were catchy while some were just mere blabbering of different companies trying to gain the most of attention out of their posts, and, eventually, money sliding inside their very pockets. The bell had rung unto every omnibus aligned in front of the inn and their lamps lighting ablaze.
One could smell the quite fragrance of the gas from inside the lamp which made it light and the chauffeurs shouted, every one of them. Some alighted their seats very quickly as driving at a speed of 10 mile-ish for hour was never the greatest feat way back their beings where internal combustion engines were never still a thing. And the thud from the chauffeurs' boots was heard individually of them as they hit the pavements, and they proceeded into locking their omnibuses in place as losing one would be a harsh, adventurous whereabouts to be situated into.
And Micael went awoke, and so did his parents. They might had heard to bell as the metal clanged upon one another periodically until there was ringing no more, and his eyes had widened and so did his thoughts. The yellow-to-orange light hit his eyes with the most precision and luminosity right before his; he was stunned and dazzled. The streets were alive, some were walking while some were just having a good time. There were kids who were roaming around the streets with bottles of liquor inside boxes of which they were carrying. His eyes were mesmerized by the street lights and the inn of which their omnibus was in front of the inn they were eating, and probably staying for that night as it was exhausting.
He could not feel his very right under his boots and the wound that he was so in dire pain of. "We are here! Maybe you guys should find yourself alighted," one of the chauffeurs had shouted as he climbed from the side of the omnibus, peeking from the window closest to Micael's father. His father's face looked like he was very tired, but Micael knew it might be just because he was smoking which made him look older than he actually was (Louis was forty-five years of age and his mother was thirty-seven) and he winced forcibly. His mother, on the other side off the wall, was excited. She was shouting quietly and was about to dance above her seat as she would love to taste food from the inn.
She sure did love cooking, and one of them was tasting some sort of food cooked from others and criticizing them with the best of her palette. She was indeed filled with joy. The door at the back of the omnibus was opened by one of the chauffeurs and they went on. Micael's father went on first with quite elegance and his mother, who then reached her hand into his father's and guided her steps. It looked nice as Micael's parents had started to enjoy the very good time of their lives from their first night, and so did Micael. "That's very nice of you, father," he said with a smile on his face and his eyes half-closed. The heels of his very mother then kissed the floor of the street's side, and then the departure of her hands into Louis' had followed, and there the omnibus' door became free and was calling for Micael's passage, and so did, of course.
As he was walking down the omnibus and alighting it, he could smell the sweet-savory fragrance of the foods being cooked at coming from a few feet apart from his senses had hands, and even nose to sniff everything that would cross its path, and it did. One of foot's Micael past the omnibus' door could feel the assistance of the foods' aroma and their individual hands holding his dark gray dress pants and his black polished leather boots as it guided itself up to the very step of the omnibus, and the wounded sole of his followed, and it felt numb. He could not feel any of the pain at that very point of time, let alone the limb up to his knee. It seemed like it was cut neatly as it was nearly as numb as stone, but he continued. He could not step easily as inside and behind his very mind, he knew it was there.
...