The dancing of flame, the flickering lights. Housed underfoot, trapped until night. Shadows draped in infinite black, Pull to the finite, ready, attack.
For the darkness of night is a harrowing mistress, A piece of her with you at all times, trust this. Those stories and tales of people gone missing, No clues, no body, no nothing, dismissing.
To find what sits beneath your nose, Under your foot and touching your toes. A blackest black, a piece of night, Trapped and waiting, ready tonight.
Off the ground, from a body that’s trapped it, Hiding behind you, a candle light sapped it. The creak just behind you, the whispering air, Trust nothing, not no one, as no one is there.
I hope you take this tale in heed, Find light in darkness is what you all need. When the sun goes and snuffs under night, Know with a candle you’ll be alright.
Always the teller but never the tale.
Once during the day he walks into the scene, foot met with a puddle followed by the form of a body.
Standing to the side cane outstretched, tripping someone into seeing the scene, into touching the blood or meeting the body. A shrill scream beckons others before police arrive.
“Homocide, victim seems to be a male in his early 30s, brown hair, blue jacket and a cane.” “Homocide, victim seems to be a male in his early 30s, brown hair, blue jacket and… a cane.”
He mouthed the words while police reported.
Walking away, waving his cane back and fourth, misty eyes waiting for tomorrow, till he found a different alley, a different puddle, a different body.
With the same report.
Dust mingling with the fog he dashed through, jumping over a mound of rubble, the sound of bullets whizzing past his ear almost deafening him as he squatted down catching his breath.
Looking at his bloody hands and clenching them to white knuckle fists banging on broken concrete. “I-I can’t just run” he mumbled to himself “Can’t run, can’t stay, can’t hide from them. There’s so much I fucking can’t do. What can I do!” Biting his fingers he scanned the rubble, eyes darting for something. Anything he could use against them.
Dropping into his knees and clutching his ears after a loud boom nearby.
“No guns, the smallest fucking knife imaginable!” Turning the knife towards himself he almost laughs at himself. “Fuck… at least my friends died fighting, here I am thinking of just ending it…” footsteps drew closer along with spitting of guns.
Turning towards he sound he looked back at the knife, cutting himself before letting it bleed out, slumping over as the enemy finds him. Eyes rolled back, blood dried with dust on his forearm. Poking at him with the ends of their guns one turns around while the other calls to others on their com device.
His eyes dart to the distracted enemy and the others back turned. Yanking the end of one’s gun before pulling himself up turning it and firing straight into their chest. The other turned around readying their gun, firing at the proposed dead vigilante, using the dying man as a shield he fired at the second enemy nicking the shoulder before getting hit in the leg himself. Exchanging bullets for moments more the enemy was down and he pulled the gun off both of them, taking the items from them to ready himself, tie up his bleeding leg and turn back to the roaring fire of war calling to him.
“I’m coming guys…” running back slightly limping, guns blazing.
“I wanna ask her out”
“You’re an idiot.”
“So?”
“… good point”
“My plan is to go up to her, do my hip hop moves and then see if she wants to get a coffee.”
“Why not just ask her?”
“Because you need to make a spectacle of it to be noticed.”
“I think just asking will work.”
“… I want to get my nerves out by dancing before I ask.”
“Your hilarious. Fine, do it.”
Stepping away the guy took controlled breaths and looked towards the bench the girl sat on, shaking out some of his nerves with his hands he walked up to her. His friend idling a bit behind him to see the ‘spectacle’ and to see how he might need to console his friend.
He walked to her, did a little bow, said something he couldn’t hear and then whipped out his dance moves, doing a 6-step, some kicks and jumps. The girl seemed to watch in object horror at the moves. And then he stopped, heaving as he held a hand out, nodding and walked back with a little smile as he held his own hand. Spitting his friend tucked away behind a tree.
“You followed me?”
“Of course, I need to watch a train wreck. So how’d it go?”
“She said yes.”
“It’s fine, there’ll alway- wait, she said yes?”
“Yes, is that so hard to believe!?”
“I mean yeah, that was probably the worst idea you’ve ever had… and yet it worked?”
“Nuh uh, my worst idea was trying to fill the water tank with spray cheese.”
“Yeah but- whatever. Do you have a time?”
“For what?”
“The date dumbass.”
“Of course… uhm, 3? I think”
“3? Which 3?”
“Do you think she’d want to meet before sunrise? Really?”
“Did you ask if she does night school?”
“Shit…”
Dust settled as the door was broken through, the temple laid bare in the dark, baskets untouched and cobwebs lining every corner. Stepping through felt almost as if stepping back to their time, children’s toys, eating rooms. And a mirror near the sleeping chamber.
Carvings of faces on the wall around it the mirror rippled, adjusting his pack he took out a brush and dusted the mirror lightly, clearing it light poured out and filled the room, blinding Gabe briefly. Covering his eyes and blinking the wash of light from his eyes he heard noises, turning around, he had entered this temple alone. No one else should have known of this place, there was giggling, laughing from behind him.
Turning around with a blade readied at his chest he lost his nerve when the mirror was laughing, lit as if the mountain surrounding the place wasn’t there, and a dark woman sat there applying red something to her forehead and cheeks. Kids came up behind her and they laughed. Watching some trip to the past, Gabe pocketed the knife and watched, stuck watching a life so long ago being so bright. So much further from his reality.
Watching he walked backwards touching the bed behind him and sitting, the kids laughed and the woman held them in her arms, giving the kids some dots of red above their eye brows… They went about their day, Gabe got glances of them as they came back and before they left, watching their days pass long gone. And then one day, they brought back a basket, the woman’s face stoic with tears falling off her cheeks, one child behind her, hugging her leg, watching the basket the woman sat down exactly where he was, looked up, at him and walked forward, seemingly through the mirror she walked to him and fell into his arms, he could almost feel the tears on her cheeks. He stroked her bound hair and pat her back.
The mirror grew dim, blinking back to reality quickly got painful as his eyes were dry, the woman still in bis arms he looked behind him. The basket the same as she brought in.
Patting the woman’s back he moved her onto the bed and walked to the basket. His arm being held back by the woman, still stoic, still crying. She shook her head. Putting a hand on hers he smiled, wiping the tears from her cheeks before sliding her hand off.
Opening the basket, cobwebs, dust and small bones, a small skull at the top. Closing his eyes and turning his head he put the top back on. Looking to the woman, she was gone. He looked back to the basket and turned it in place, characters written in a clay square.
He looked at the mirror again, broken and empty of its reflection, the light beckoning from the door he broke open to leave.
Stepping towards the door he heard the giggled once again, the laughter from the mirror echoing through the temple. Stepping out and closing the doors, resting against it, he noticed his hand had been dotted, the same as the children were.
Folding a newspaper one sat on the bench, alone watching the park go by. Another dressed in white sat next to one. Two sat and crossed their legs.
“Good morning”
“Good morning to you too”
“…”
“…”
The two sat in silence for a while.
“Hear about the hike in electricity cost?”
“I heard they’re putting in place new solar panels.”
“I think it’s too costly for here.” “I think it’s imported from Egypt”
“Imported goods aren’t as accepted by the population.” “It’s a good thing I’m not part of the population” they laughed
“Alright” they smiled into their hand and stood up “I live a few blocks from here. Hope to see you around stranger”
“Enjoy your morning” one grinned and tipped their hat “I hear the weathers only going to get better.”
Past the veil of death and decay As you lie there, wait and pray The boatman greets you hollow and cold Two coins cover your eyes, a gift to behold A river of night, a river of blood A river of lost souls stuck in mud The river lay endless, no land in sight Blink twice and try as you might Until the boatman’s gone, your feet meet ground A land unknown, a sight unbound Walk through the land of the dead The land of the wise and a land full of dread There is no guide here, no instruction or tell For the land of the lost is one of yours to spell
But do not fret for my tale is old As old as time yet no longer so cold The land is hidden, all knotted and curled It is easy to get lost in the underworld
“So we go in the middle of the night”
“Obviously”
“I wear my tux and you bring your inflatable dinosaur costume”
“I thought this would be stealth?”
“Alright, you bring your deflated dinosaur costume”
“I’ll inflate it as we escape”
“Wearing my _charming _tuxedo I seduce the guards and have them fainted with sheer blood pressure”
“As if, you’d be lucky if the teller didn’t press the silent alarm with your masquerade mask on entry”
“And your dinosaur would do better.”
“Much!”
“Go on then.”
“I’d enter with my Dino costume inflated, walk up to the teller and casually bite her head off, naturally I’d have done this the whole way there so no witnesses until the end.”
“Of course.”
“I’d steal the money from the registers and bag it up, take her hand or cough up one of the heads to get into the vault and then boom. Quiet escape.”
“Genius, only one problem.”
“What?”
“Am I just the handsome getaway driver?”
“No… you’d help me with the bags and steal the show when we escape!”
“Hell yeah!”
“-nd be my scapegoat-“
“-what?”
“Nothing”
“Haha so where do you want to go?”
“Usual spot?”
“Usual spot.”
Flowing water is cleaner than stagnant bodies River beds lay murk, mud and rubble When rain falls, it is all kicked up Sullying the clear waters While pushing the murk downstream
Stagnant bodies turn to murky waters through rain And find their mud and rubble settle over time Though it settles where it was Being contained within itself Unchanged by the event
Flowing water is cleaner than stagnant bodies Once the water clears again There can be gold at the bottom Uncovered by the storm
I am made entirely of flaws, stitched together by good intentions. The seams I show are only what hasn’t unravelled yet. I find new fabric to piece to myself, fabric found in others. Weaving together a part of them to make up what I’m missing, cover what I lack. I stitch patches over broken seams, thread promises around ones already broken. All I am is a doll, whose stuffing is heavier than stone, yet tries to escape like air. I’ve mended, covered and burst so much of myself, I don’t know what’s truly me. I am made entirely of flaws, stitched over by others care, I don’t know what’s broken.
But I know what’s there.
