In Which He Throws His Temper

The moment John looked up, his attention was immediately drawn to the sky, which appeared to be composed of a kaleidoscope of colors that were blending and swirling together. A sky that is primarily purple, with some pinks and blacks mixed in there as well.

Because of the foreboding appearance of the sky, the meteorologists were unable to determine whether or not it would merely be misting or if there would be a full-fledged rainstorm.

On the radio, an announcer said that the phrase "the shifting weather is sure to bring some light drizzle." 

As John gazed outside, he said something to the effect of "I say a rainstorm."

The man was startled when he saw another man suddenly leap off the ship that was moored next to his and land on the ground below. As John listened to the other person yell, he felt his fists tighten. He was accustomed to hearing that sound, the wailing cry of infinite anguish.

It is most possible that the person in issue is a slave who is completely ignored by everyone else. Even though it was none of his concern that John, a soldier, was not in good health, he was not feeling well despite the fact that it was none of John's business.

At that very instant, a wooden box that was containing fifty wine bottles fell into his right palm and landed on the floor. Because of his injury, carrying anything at this time was quite challenging for him.

If he had been operating at the peak of his ability, this outcome would not have been the one that was supposed to occur. As soon as John allowed himself to consider the possibility that he was declining in strength, he felt a burning sensation in his veins. He clamped down harder on his jaw and covered both of his eyes with his hands.

John was aware of the pain that was being conveyed by the other person's sobbing and cries, and he could relate to it. The misery that was spreading through his body like a wildfire continued to intensify at an alarming rate.

When you have been through anything like this, the agony never ends, and there is never a time when you are at peace. It is always there, producing agony and functioning as a spectral presence in the environment.

As John watched the man being taken away on a stretcher, he took several long breaths and tried to compose himself. What he seen caused him to exhibit clear signs of distress. He was on fire from the inside out, and the fire was eating away at every muscle and every fiber of his existence. He was completely consumed by the flames.

He then tossed the vase off his table and watched as it shattered, after which he threw the bottle of wine, some glasses, and anything else that was breakable off the table as well.

A piece of music started playing just as he was about to throw a glass sculpture in the air. It was a complete coincidence. The comforting tones of the music began to wrap him like a warm blanket as they began to play. While he investigated the source of the music, he made sure the sculpture remained in the same place on the table.

He became aware of a woman who was wrapped in a shadowy cloak and wearing a vivid crimson ensemble. The hood that was fastened to her robe covered the greater part of her face, making it difficult to see what she looked like. Although no one could see her face, one could make out the smile that was playing across her lips as she played.

Nobody gave a damn about how she seemed on the outside. It didn't matter what she performed on the violin since each and every tune she played was gentle and sensitive, and it touched the strings of the soul. His very being.

John saw that he was not the only one who had come to a halt at the same time as the others. Everyone else did as well. Everyone in the docking area, including those who were standing, turned their attention to the young woman in the red dress who was playing the violin while a pixie danced by her.

The tempo was quite energizing, and even while she wasn't playing anything that was particularly upbeat or quick, it was still enjoyable.

As the song progressed, the fury that could be seen clearly in John's eyes gradually started to ebb away. As he began to relax, he shrugged his shoulders and sat with his back tilted back in his chair.

The creases that had been on his forehead started to disappear, and the fire that had been in his crimson eyes started to evaporate into vapors.