part 1
Tonight, me, Rouxgaroux, and Felix were back-up for all the things that go bump in the night. Our unit was volunteered for extra duty. A really stuck-up way to say we were babysitting the local police forces during Samhain celebrations. We had it coming. Continue reading “Border Patrol, M.E.L.”
Part 1/ Part 2
‘Leaf in the current, gravitate. Ignorant, until meaning finds you.’
The ocean around me moved, like a summer breeze. The strangest thoughts surfaced. Deep-sea creatures floated towards me. With their long sharp teeth, spikes for ribs and stone cold scales, they brushed my feet. I knew they would. My toes expected the chilly touch. Maybe that’s why I didn’t jump.
Fins broke the surface.
- triggerwarning - grief, alcohol
I plunked down into the leather couch and tugged the patchwork quilt over my legs. Maria, my ex-wife, made it during the five long years of our marriage. She made it for Amy, our little daughter.
I petted the fabric, fingers tracing the sewed areas, for the hundredths time, maybe for the hundred-thousandths time by now…
It had been vibrant and colorful, with the reds and blues and yellows thoughtfully arranged on twenty to thirty-five inches. Baby animals playing under the stars and the moon. Pink hearts lined beneath those little paws. My fingertips knew all the stitches.
The emptiness in Jack’s chest is drilling ache. The skin feels numb and knotted under his sweaty shirt. His fingertips trace the long pink scar on his breastbone.
There is no reason to rush things.
The surgeons have saved his life. He wonders if it has been worth it. They take away that weak heart. Jack imagines how they pry him open, strip him bare of that sick metronome of his past. They steal all of who he was and hoped to be. Jack’s a new man, with new life force in his groins, a new heart to match and no memories to regret. There are no memories at all. The doctors call it amnesia. Jack calls it a blank slate.
Continue reading “Heartless Jack”
It’s a book of tradition, a tale of sorrow,
like the snake on the mighty apple tree,
like a river of time, cutting through
generations of living flesh and mind.
inspired by “Jagged” by Jacob Ibrag
This common language of pain we both speak
you, and all random folk calling me – freak
This liquid misery, metallic and salty in taste
Look into a mirror- that’s sad crystalized to space Continue reading “Familiar Edges”
I submerge in the silvery flood
of the dark whisper in my blood
past’s poison floats to the surface
full in shape, the moon rises too
midst the sclera of midnight blue –
“Observing, my dear! Observing
your fate and redemption…”
All those tiny human things
I wished to lose, not to suffer,
not to hunger, nor to feel pain.
I´d give you my love, my hate,
my body, my pain, my thoughts,
my everything, just to be free.
-Free from my humanity.
She quietly observes, maybe pondering.
The enormous eye rests on a rooftop,
blinks eventually. Once… Twice…
“As you wish, my love.”
Night’s cold I don’t feel any more
Power surges through my bones
Rises like water over volcanic stones.
Wounds on my skin all healed,
my soul´s grim just a bad dream.
Only hunger keeps me company.
I lick my muzzle starvingly,
scratch my ear, with a paw-
„WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”
But my scream’s just a howl…
THE STORY HIVE 