The Nervous Night Before
The skeletal Marayan sat upon his study, looking out onto the harbor. He could hear the frivolous shantys of exhausted sailors during the late night, far in the distance. He turned then, to his piano, in attempts to dissuade his mind of such nerve. The man then arose, to pace about the room, abandoning several leaflets and scrolls that were on his desk.
He felt colder as he flushed his mind, halting his movements, and taking a deep breath, before lurching across the attic to shut the shutters on the upcoming fall. The moment aside, he sat at a small stool near his piano, and blissfully played away a tune, as a sadistic smile with shuttered eyes befell his face.
He arose once again, and paced around the piano several times, looking once again to the harbor as he watched a trade ship wade by. He took all opportunity in a mighty breath, which span the length of his hollow chest, and exhaled a subtle burst. "Tomorrow is the day," he anonymously spoke.
With that, he leaped to his desk, shutting much of the research materials he had vigorously studied, and retracting all of his scrolls. He rushed down his stairwell into his bedroom, passing a floor dedicated to a telescope, perched diligently against the pained wall. He looked to a pile of clothes he set out upon his small bed: a black vest, long enough to reach his legs, accompanied by a tee-shirt with french embroidering around all seems, and a pair of grey leggings with a solid black pair of shoes.
He shoved the clothes aside, and anxiously slid into his bed, wrestling his pillows throughout the night.
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