Revenge, without a memory.
I woke up this morning feeling a dull throb at the end of my tailbone. I reached for it. Touched it, it felt mostly watery, sleepy eyes focus and identify my fingers, now soaked in my own blood. I wake up easily after that to realize i can't sit up. I lay back, my eyes scan the edges of my sheet and the wall there on, they then relay the action onto my nose that smells the musty airless room that i had resolved to clean all of last month, and didn't. I smell my unwashed sheet as i pull it closer to my face. The stairs creak underneath my floor as somebody climbs up. Sad trailing sounds. I perspire for no reason. A trickle runs down my temple and into my ear. It stops.
The sound of his footsteps play pacemaker to my heart as it gets louder and closer. I'm a bloody mess in my head as i try to remember who i am. I try to place events leading to this moment as i lay here unaware of myself, my identity, my reason to bleed and my need to know. I breath in.
The footsteps recede. I look out of the tiny window to see the skies reddening. It was beautiful but reminded me of me.
At that particular moment, i felt a strange haunting feeling that my life was giving me. I felt ghostly.
Reality leaves me through my veins, my finger tips, i feel light, feather like. I float up above my bed quite easily, i hover about the dyspeptic air, slipping through the blades of the fan like i didn't exist, through the roof, along the trees and effortlessly swerve by the riverbend, chase along a small highway on which, an old car. It is speeding. I instinctively pursue it and enter it through the open window.
I like my new speed and find my flying skills rather useful. Sitting in the driver's seat was a man in his 30s. He looked in a hurry.
Placed on the seat next to him was my picture with a cross on it. close by, a pistol.
I am furious.
I ruffle up the old newspapers in the back of the car and get them flying up in the sedan's sparse interiors. The newspapers attach themselves to the windshield in front of the driver. He tries to sweep them aside but can't.
The car swerves.
The rear view mirror is heard smashing as the car hits an oncoming truck and the driver banks it to the left.
A loud crash as it hits a tree in full impact.
I have been sitting on this tree all afternoon, looking down at all the people who are trying to extract the body of a man from this vicious crash.
The sky looks white now. I feel better already.
I stir in my bed.
The sound of his footsteps play pacemaker to my heart as it gets louder and closer. I'm a bloody mess in my head as i try to remember who i am. I try to place events leading to this moment as i lay here unaware of myself, my identity, my reason to bleed and my need to know. I breath in.
The footsteps recede. I look out of the tiny window to see the skies reddening. It was beautiful but reminded me of me.
At that particular moment, i felt a strange haunting feeling that my life was giving me. I felt ghostly.
Reality leaves me through my veins, my finger tips, i feel light, feather like. I float up above my bed quite easily, i hover about the dyspeptic air, slipping through the blades of the fan like i didn't exist, through the roof, along the trees and effortlessly swerve by the riverbend, chase along a small highway on which, an old car. It is speeding. I instinctively pursue it and enter it through the open window.
I like my new speed and find my flying skills rather useful. Sitting in the driver's seat was a man in his 30s. He looked in a hurry.
Placed on the seat next to him was my picture with a cross on it. close by, a pistol.
I am furious.
I ruffle up the old newspapers in the back of the car and get them flying up in the sedan's sparse interiors. The newspapers attach themselves to the windshield in front of the driver. He tries to sweep them aside but can't.
The car swerves.
The rear view mirror is heard smashing as the car hits an oncoming truck and the driver banks it to the left.
A loud crash as it hits a tree in full impact.
I have been sitting on this tree all afternoon, looking down at all the people who are trying to extract the body of a man from this vicious crash.
The sky looks white now. I feel better already.
I stir in my bed.
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