In this expanse metal and ice forms. It churns.
Rotating itself, it slips and scratches –echoing distantly.
Not for too long. Ages pass.
Inward it twists; each mass hisses and whines the tighter it gets.
The strain is too much. Eons could do that.
But at least it wasn’t so black in here anymore.
This wasn’t the straining swirls of eternal death. This was a birth.
Metal vibrates and hums until it's bone. Ice cracks and melts until it's blood.
Bone and blood both take shape into ligaments and sweet sinews.
Muscles tighten. Vessels crisscross and contort.
A body needs lungs, guts, and a heart.
Maybe not all of them. But this one would.
In black, in secret, this little piggy squeaks. She won’t be allowed to sleep. Around the ever reddening black a voice creeps around the baby’s ever-connecting brain. It sings, giggles, and provides no warmth. The voice is a glacier –mean- and setting the stage for the next big game. It whispers of monsters, divorce, displeasure, and pain as a treasure. What a wicked little thing.
But it had to be now. Last time it almost lost the game.
So it picked a nice little song from another time and another place.
Picked it as a little lullaby. Interludes with Ludes, but it defiantly took its own spin on the ditty. Thus remembered, it goes:
“I’ve always been behind you
so I think we should meet.
I’ve sharpened my knives for you
so you’re going to use them.
Gonna smother you with my love
forever and ever –also forever. Forever.
Acid and poison and chemicals, Baby,
these you will provide.
I know together we’ll make the possible
If you want me I’m yours,
and even if you don’t want me.
You’re trained and licensed and armed to the teeth-
I think they’ll agree.
It’s so hard to apologize,
so I’m just gonna skip it.
Don’t ever think you’re hearing something crazy.
This time I hope you catch something, Baby,
because I just threw it all at you.
Everyone run and hide!
You’re coming to find them.
Your face is still bleeding.
Tell them, ‘What’s the problem?’
By the skin of your teeth,
that’s how you’re gonna drive them.
Put them on a good ship, lollygagged,
with LSD and a bloody pile of rags.
I hate to be bearer of bad news…
. . . but I am.”
And then it laughed, and laughed, and laughed. It laughed until it rushed into a continuous note. It continued until it turned to water and spun. . .
. . . down the sink of a white bathroom with peeling black paneled stalls. She gasped and clutched her hands into her chest, spraying some cold water thereupon. Looking upward into the mirror, she gazed at the strange, confused face peering back. Like being caught staring at a stranger, she quickly glanced away. Passing the time until the awkward chill subsided, the woman turned the faucet closed with a creaking groan from the brass and a grumble from the deepest part of her throat. Braver now, she looked again. This time the face was more familiar. Distant, but oddly comfortable. She wrinkled the band of freckles across her nose while squinting to really examine –to ascertain reality.
Satisfied after a pinch or two, she adjusted the red scarf around her neck and pulled it lower away from her chin. An about face and shove had her in the shadowy corner of a crusty looking dive bar filled with the usual assortment of tacky knickknacks and fake story about dart shots and silly hats. Only a handful of patrons were here, and most of them were huddled around the bartender as they silently competed for the quiet prize of “most likely to succeed at drinking at a dank bar forever” award. The stools were too low, and the lady from the bathroom didn’t feel like hunching over a short stool. She moved to a booth that was set perpendicular to the bar, and sat facing the door.
It wasn’t time to leave just yet.
Edited by The Major, 06 April 2016 - 11:22 PM.