Saturday, July 21, 2012

Sweat

The wind had abandoned its duty, daunted by the intense fire of the suns breath it recoiled and ran for cover, Alta sat slumped in defeat legs out stretched under the fat shadow of the crooked rock that looked like the frame of a headless woman arms held impatiently at her hips waiting to scold some poor unfortunate soul.  The sweat dripped down her face like slow waterfall few salt drops trickling wetting her coarse peanut brown lips she slide pink fat snaking tongue out slithering over the cracked terrain of her lip moistening.  Alta swallowed her own sweat not caring the taste was welcome relief to her parched mouth flavouring the bitter stale taste fermenting.


It wasn't plain hot more like oven turned to maximum, burning hot.  A lonely white blurry dot was the only thing adrift on a clear blue sky it seared over her head, Alta's eye lashes fluttered rapidly as she squinted from the pain of the brightness.  She had the look of excruciating pain stretched across her face, twisted and scrunched looking up at the empty sky the birds weren't sailing today she couldn't imagine them mustering enough energy to flap and glide drunkenly across the horizon.  Alta raised her slender long hands trying to shield her eyes, but quickly slumped her limp arms back down the effort was more straining then the sun.

She could feel the warm sweat swell like a fountain lather her gaunt body, tickling her flesh as the drops chilled then swelled with more sweat.  This she thought to herself alone beneath the crooked woman's shadow was a good day to die she felt like it was encroaching slowly like a snail crawling to prolong her misery.

The Lingering

It lay there curled and undisturbed in the corner an unloved thing that had passed out of existence, quietly without ceremony or notice like the falling of dust or the shedding of leaves.  As all around it life continued to rise waiting for death to drag it down and consume it leaving nothing but a smudge, lingering in tears mingling into our hopes and staining our dreams.  Taking comfort being carried into immortality on the backs of those who love us and who hate us with equal passion,  passed on like second-hand books to be occasionally glanced at as examples, we would hope for the better.

She saw it, it had been lingering for sometime, ignored it she did not care for the memory she was trying so hard to scour harshly from her mind.  Hoping everytime she entered the inner sanctum which was everyone's place of solitude, someone would have taken the burden would have claimed responsibility for that wretched creature that was reeking her small space with its scentless stench of existing.

But no one did and so it remained where it fell a memory of the life it once was, a life she feared and hated with unreasonable force.  It was a small unencumbered life existing freely quietly before its permanent  fall, even in death her fear persisted gnawed away at her conscious  its presence was a taunt calling out, but all it wanted was mercy for the empty house of a long abandoned soul.

It lay there haunting her waiting for recognition of a kindred soul but she would not give it she fretted sweeping glances towards it.  It wasn't a gentle glance of tenderness but sharp glare of fear.  She navigated cautiously to rest her weary bones on the sculpted throne sighing with serene relief the burden that was stabbing and churning inside was leaving as she emptied her vessel of the bile she accumulated from her journeys, then scrubbed the hands that toiled and cleaned the filth.  And left it alone once more.

Rage of Flames



In the darkness orange flames roared hungrily crawling outwardly like savage beasts devouring the bushes and grass scratching clawing the tall trees and earth black with its venom.  The smoke rose higher like a giant snake twisting upwards slithering and winding carrying the smell of burning vegetation, crisp crackling wood and crunching leaves was the only sound of the rage screaming from the flames, growing more bitter with each step.

The animals had gone scurrying and fluttering fear drove their hooves and lifted their wings, gently swiftly lumbering or bounding they went scattering in all corners they did not scream or fuss or concern themselves with material possessions they ran with the only earthly possession they cared for, their lives.



The sound off their thundering exodus echoed slightly above the flames, as the beast roared 'fear me' growling and snarling whilst trying to fill its insatiable appetite growing with no thought of tempering it seemed void of limit unbound of any restrictions rules or laws.  Just feeding and growing leaving behind a crippling path of black wasteland still hot from breath of rage that spate it out.