Special Agent Eric Paulson stood in my doorway, with a goofy smile on his thin lips. He flicked away his still burning cigarette. Snowflakes melted on his grey stubby chin.
“What do you want?” I asked. Bitterness seeped from the back of my throat. I wanted to spit it out, but words fell out instead. “Seven. Years.” He didn’t even call when my sweet little Anna died. Continue reading “Cursed, not Gifted”
I followed the winter
to north, where only
the aurora borealis would
dance on the black
crystal night sky.
leading this far-
it turned around
and flashed it´s
brightest smile.
“Stop following me, tiring one!
Not caring for you, anyway!
Got places to go,
stuff to freeze,
souls to chill…
tah, tah”
I can’t stop myself from looking at him – snow white skin, hair, dark as chocolate, topaz eyes borrowed from a bird of prey, soft lips, bowed in a mischievous arch – vibrant memories, which won’t let me sleep, won’t let me close my eyes. Even if I do, I’ll open them up, asap. Feeling his breath, his gaze peeled to whatever there is to be to be noticed in my face.
Even in the darkness of the room, drawn curtains, and the half moon shining… Even in the solid black mist his eyes seems to glow in that strange orange golden light. He seems to emit it, his faces, his mouthes, his shiny teeth… All screaming curiosity.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. I´ve never seen someone fall asleep before.”
“What? Never? Why?”
“I never sleep. So I’m curious.”
“Suit yourself.” Indeed, I’m exhausted, and ´bout to fall asleep. “So you never sleep, hm? Do you – ever dream?” My lips move lazily. The bed sheets still hot and messed up. Feeling heavy on my skin.
“Yes. But mine are different from yours. I do not lose myself doing so.” His voice softens, moves closer somewhere near my left temple. “And when you’ll lose yourself, you’ll be empty – a living, breathing hollow shell. Just waiting.” His voice sounds now like a whisper, moves suddenly from my left to the right ear… Of course -forgot- two mouthes. Two tongues. Strangely, they sound the same.
Can’t open my eyes, sleep burns inside of them. It is a soft warm black, that keeps dripping, dissolving into my mind. “Mhm. What for?” Words drop out hazily, I just breathe them out.
“For me, to do as I please… Shhh, now. Go back to sleep…”
The day is slowly trickling off. The sun rests on the rooftop, its orange bleeds out, reaching over the sky. Beyond the edges of the buildings on the other street side. Trees nearby rustle, as the wind picks up.
A black cat sits on top of an old brick wall surrounding a garden. It can be easily confused with a statue in the dusk. If it isn’t for those flashing yellow eyes. Horse chestnut tree branches stretch over the mural’s top, slowly waving in the evening wind. They shade the most of the wall, even with the streetlight flickering on nearby.
Okay! Don’t look now… but I just busted the lock on 388.
Yeah, yeah. Don’t be so shocked!
As if you never slipped! – With a bolt cutter. On a lock.
I mean, come on… We’re on the same side here, aren’t we? We’re havin’ a little fun! You ’n me… Little snoopin’ round, little snuffin’ out. It’s what I do for livin’. No, I’m a part-time jacker. I know it’s not so reputable, but I ain’t a reputable man. So don’t bother.
The steaming mug of tea drew a slow, hot circle in the laminate of the coffee table.
Normal physics. The best of it, the calming part. Not the going haywire for no fucking reason. Inside this room, my apartment. Everything seems to be stable for now.
Outside though… Visible vectors, stretching and distorting time and space… Things which should not be. Impossible things. Today I saw a bird climbing back into an egg, before exploding.
This is wrong… Everything… It doesn’t make sense. Continue reading “dreams of doomsday”
Ziggy is sitting across the table. You will not give him any food, not even a pinch. As punishment. Anyone, who behaves like that doesn’t get a bit from the delicious dinner you are making.
You concentrate on Marina. Yes, that´s her name. She’s your beautiful tailed woman. She was surprised seeing you again at her door, but she accepted your offer. So you did well last night after all. That makes you proud.
She changes as you start preparing. Sweet potatoes, apples, flour, eggs, salmon, cutting herbs and that stuff. She makes you coffee. Still no milk. But she shows you where the sugar is. She´s smiling. She´s beautiful, you state that and swallow. She giggles.
-part 1 – Where to, Mr. Jones?
-part 2 – soft spot
You don’t quite think it through, do you? The woman with the tail, you don’t mean to lie to her. But it’s ok for now. You won’t hurt her with that. You tell her, that you are perfectly fine. Not honest. Shame on you! You shake your head at your own confusion- it is somewhat slightly amusing, you must admit.
There is this fact that might be true. The one, that you’re are nuts. You know that. Ziggy has told you. The gorilla and the skinny man too.
They believe themselves a part of your hallucinations. Ridiculous! If they are, then you can control them, make them say things like supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, or make them eat disgusting stuff, or run around naked. …Oh wait, the gorilla does that, doesn’t he? And the thin man is eating fried crickets and spiders. You might be hallucinating them, after all. Continue reading “don’t forget the salmon”
THE STORY HIVE 