Saturday, January 23, 2010
excerpt from "Emily Gasped"
Peter was weary, he could barely stand. He moped ahead through a daze, a haze of red sore eyed almost sleep. His feet were bleeding, boils and blisters broke and festered, his toe nails were falling off, the skin was raw and peeling. He wept, cried openly; he could not hold back the flood of tears they fell freely, soaking his cheeks. He knew he was wasting precious water, he would die without more and here he was dropping water to the ground.
Sarah was by his side she held him aloft, on his feet. She never left him now. Ever since the great grey powdery demon had struck she remained close to him, never ever leaving his sight. He just needed to rest she thought, if only we could stop, even for a while, a few hours. They never stopped though, always they marched, this incessant push, the never ending struggle.
Sarah was tired too, she wished she would die, at times she truly did. Then the feeling would pass and she would continue to struggle. The life of a cow was not an easy one she thought. Even the meanest farmer let his cattle sleep, let them have water, and food. Did the Absence and its Twisted believe they would last forever if treated so? She needed water, food, and rest. Sarah was on her last legs, she did not know if she could make it much further, and Peter was in worse shape than she.
Everyone around them was in the same sorry state, dragging their asses, slowly trudging through the scrub wasteland. The air was a bitter cold, the chill bit through the flesh down to the bone. People were stealing clothing from each other; many were naked to the elements. Sarah still wore the last ragged threads of her clothing, a thick woollen sweater, torn jeans, holed socks and sandals that had seen better days. Peter had on jeans and a cotton button up shirt, he had no socks but his boots were heavy hikers. His feet were in an awful state she worried about infection, she worried for his life and hers as well.
May straggled behind the two of them, she was having great difficulty keeping pace. Sarah kept calling to her, prodding her, telling her to hurry. May was the last of their original group. The rest had fallen, succumbed to the forced march, or fallen prey to the Twisted, or to the growing greed of the mob mentality. Sarah did not know how long May would last now that Peter was so weak, so powerless. She did not know how long she would survive without his aid, his being able to defend her.
A commotion began to trickle back from ahead, the wave pressing against the tide of human bodies. Sarah was tall, almost two metres, she could see over most of the heads about her; the mass of people was stopping, actually stopping. She could not make out why however and that left a pit of fear in her belly. As the wave passed through the section of crowd the three of them were part of those around them began to sit, some merely dropped where they were. Many simply fell in heaps to cold frozen earth.
Sarah looked to Peter he raised his head and sagged in her arms, she let him down, gently to the ground. May sat beside him, and huddled close for warmth. As much as Sarah needed the rest she remained standing trying to see the cause of the stop, for they had never been given respite before. She did not trust this, this reprieve. She looked in all directions, she studied the scene as far as she could see and saw nothing, no movement, no sudden rush, no alarming action. She listened for the telltale screams the yells that came with a culling, the sounds of horror and fear but again she heard nothing but the grunts, groans and moans of tired spent, wounded, winded, defeated souls.
Sarah could stand no more she had to rest and she sat with May and Peter, a third body to add to the warmth. They embraced each other, holding tightly to each other, clasping, hugging, sheltering in the heat of shared desperation. The three humans held the moment, the long awaited moment they had wished for, the rest they truly needed. Though they had no water, no food, they had each other still, the three of them knotted like strings, entangled, entwined.
They lay like that for a long time just resting; taking turns closing weary eyes and sleeping. Little catnaps, short and sweet, recharge the batteries bit by bit; a slow process but they could not trust those around them, or the Twisted. The stop continued, Sarah kept getting to her feet looking around but nothing revealed itself, there was no stirring in the vast horde of people, no cries, no sudden movements. The entire column was still. She finally was able to get her bearings on where they were in the herd. She had tried her best to orient them in the middle, away form the edges, the most likely places to be pulled from when a cull began. It appeared she had done ok. As far as she could see there were people in all directions, an unbroken mass of humanity. Sarah looked ahead, toward the distance and tried to pick out the terrain, look for landmarks something she could use to keep them centered when the herd began to move again. Nothing stood out so she sat and resumed her resting, her recharging.
Peter was snoring softly his mouth open and a slick of drool escaping the corner of his lip. May had her head snuggled in his lap, her hands tucked under his ass for warmth, her legs wrapped with his. Sarah let them sleep; she curled herself into the fold, pulling the two bodies to her, holding them tight, and feeling warmth beyond the body heat. She realized in that moment, that fleeting piece of time, that she loved them both. She thought of the situation they were in, the dirt, the filth, the disease, the desperation, the horror, the insanity, the depravity, the madness, the futility, the utter hopelessness and she began to weep. Sarah let the tears fall, let the torrent wash her clean, felt the salty sorrow sting her dried cracked skin, watched the droplets hit the frozen ground. Sarah sobbed great heaving sobs, gut wracking sobs, she gasped for breath, and the tears continued. After what seemed an eternity she calmed, spent, drained, and lost for words she laid still, wrapped around May and Peter. She loved like she had never loved before. Her heart bloomed, it burst, brimming over with tenderness she could not believe possible. Sarah became love; she was love, every cell of her divided, the clones showering love beyond her, spreading.
Peter opened his eyes and felt wonderful, amazing, he felt like he was in his mother’s arms, being coddled like a babe. He felt a rush of blushing heat wash through him, like a lovers caress, ripple along his spine. He stared about and caught Sarah’s eye, she was looking at him at May, she seemed entranced, her smile was strange, devilish, inviting. May was enraptured; she was eyeing Sarah as well. Her face beaming joy, glee, happiness beyond measure, and Peter felt it, he shared the elation. May lifted her head and kissed Peter, a deep full lipped kiss tongues twining, he returned the kiss. Sarah responded, she lowered her mouth and savoured the flavours of two mouths.
Hands and fingers, feet, limbs and mouths and tongues began an elaborate dance. A lithe ballet of balancing bouncing buoyant bumping and banging bodies. Three persons partook of each other in a palliative remedy. Staring death down and revelling in each other. Sweat and secretions, a slipping sliding silly solution of the moment, they twisted and contorted, commingled, communicating with unintelligible primal mumblings. Language forgotten grunts and groans sufficed, moans meant more than words could ever say. Taste, touch, tactile teasing, inside, outside, this side that side her side his side, wrong side right side left side, lick shout in out and again here there no yes again again harder softer yes again where here more more more! Until they collapsed in a heap, a laughing giggling heap, spent but not weary, not worn, not tired, no, they were revitalized, supercharged.
Sarah’s love was enough for all three. Peter felt it, so did May. They basked in the glow of community, of the act, the heat of desire long unknown, forgotten, now rekindled. Most of all they remembered love, a human emotion, shared between humans, now shared between the three, for Peter loved May loved Sarah loved Peter loved all of them.
Sarah was by his side she held him aloft, on his feet. She never left him now. Ever since the great grey powdery demon had struck she remained close to him, never ever leaving his sight. He just needed to rest she thought, if only we could stop, even for a while, a few hours. They never stopped though, always they marched, this incessant push, the never ending struggle.
Sarah was tired too, she wished she would die, at times she truly did. Then the feeling would pass and she would continue to struggle. The life of a cow was not an easy one she thought. Even the meanest farmer let his cattle sleep, let them have water, and food. Did the Absence and its Twisted believe they would last forever if treated so? She needed water, food, and rest. Sarah was on her last legs, she did not know if she could make it much further, and Peter was in worse shape than she.
Everyone around them was in the same sorry state, dragging their asses, slowly trudging through the scrub wasteland. The air was a bitter cold, the chill bit through the flesh down to the bone. People were stealing clothing from each other; many were naked to the elements. Sarah still wore the last ragged threads of her clothing, a thick woollen sweater, torn jeans, holed socks and sandals that had seen better days. Peter had on jeans and a cotton button up shirt, he had no socks but his boots were heavy hikers. His feet were in an awful state she worried about infection, she worried for his life and hers as well.
May straggled behind the two of them, she was having great difficulty keeping pace. Sarah kept calling to her, prodding her, telling her to hurry. May was the last of their original group. The rest had fallen, succumbed to the forced march, or fallen prey to the Twisted, or to the growing greed of the mob mentality. Sarah did not know how long May would last now that Peter was so weak, so powerless. She did not know how long she would survive without his aid, his being able to defend her.
A commotion began to trickle back from ahead, the wave pressing against the tide of human bodies. Sarah was tall, almost two metres, she could see over most of the heads about her; the mass of people was stopping, actually stopping. She could not make out why however and that left a pit of fear in her belly. As the wave passed through the section of crowd the three of them were part of those around them began to sit, some merely dropped where they were. Many simply fell in heaps to cold frozen earth.
Sarah looked to Peter he raised his head and sagged in her arms, she let him down, gently to the ground. May sat beside him, and huddled close for warmth. As much as Sarah needed the rest she remained standing trying to see the cause of the stop, for they had never been given respite before. She did not trust this, this reprieve. She looked in all directions, she studied the scene as far as she could see and saw nothing, no movement, no sudden rush, no alarming action. She listened for the telltale screams the yells that came with a culling, the sounds of horror and fear but again she heard nothing but the grunts, groans and moans of tired spent, wounded, winded, defeated souls.
Sarah could stand no more she had to rest and she sat with May and Peter, a third body to add to the warmth. They embraced each other, holding tightly to each other, clasping, hugging, sheltering in the heat of shared desperation. The three humans held the moment, the long awaited moment they had wished for, the rest they truly needed. Though they had no water, no food, they had each other still, the three of them knotted like strings, entangled, entwined.
They lay like that for a long time just resting; taking turns closing weary eyes and sleeping. Little catnaps, short and sweet, recharge the batteries bit by bit; a slow process but they could not trust those around them, or the Twisted. The stop continued, Sarah kept getting to her feet looking around but nothing revealed itself, there was no stirring in the vast horde of people, no cries, no sudden movements. The entire column was still. She finally was able to get her bearings on where they were in the herd. She had tried her best to orient them in the middle, away form the edges, the most likely places to be pulled from when a cull began. It appeared she had done ok. As far as she could see there were people in all directions, an unbroken mass of humanity. Sarah looked ahead, toward the distance and tried to pick out the terrain, look for landmarks something she could use to keep them centered when the herd began to move again. Nothing stood out so she sat and resumed her resting, her recharging.
Peter was snoring softly his mouth open and a slick of drool escaping the corner of his lip. May had her head snuggled in his lap, her hands tucked under his ass for warmth, her legs wrapped with his. Sarah let them sleep; she curled herself into the fold, pulling the two bodies to her, holding them tight, and feeling warmth beyond the body heat. She realized in that moment, that fleeting piece of time, that she loved them both. She thought of the situation they were in, the dirt, the filth, the disease, the desperation, the horror, the insanity, the depravity, the madness, the futility, the utter hopelessness and she began to weep. Sarah let the tears fall, let the torrent wash her clean, felt the salty sorrow sting her dried cracked skin, watched the droplets hit the frozen ground. Sarah sobbed great heaving sobs, gut wracking sobs, she gasped for breath, and the tears continued. After what seemed an eternity she calmed, spent, drained, and lost for words she laid still, wrapped around May and Peter. She loved like she had never loved before. Her heart bloomed, it burst, brimming over with tenderness she could not believe possible. Sarah became love; she was love, every cell of her divided, the clones showering love beyond her, spreading.
Peter opened his eyes and felt wonderful, amazing, he felt like he was in his mother’s arms, being coddled like a babe. He felt a rush of blushing heat wash through him, like a lovers caress, ripple along his spine. He stared about and caught Sarah’s eye, she was looking at him at May, she seemed entranced, her smile was strange, devilish, inviting. May was enraptured; she was eyeing Sarah as well. Her face beaming joy, glee, happiness beyond measure, and Peter felt it, he shared the elation. May lifted her head and kissed Peter, a deep full lipped kiss tongues twining, he returned the kiss. Sarah responded, she lowered her mouth and savoured the flavours of two mouths.
Hands and fingers, feet, limbs and mouths and tongues began an elaborate dance. A lithe ballet of balancing bouncing buoyant bumping and banging bodies. Three persons partook of each other in a palliative remedy. Staring death down and revelling in each other. Sweat and secretions, a slipping sliding silly solution of the moment, they twisted and contorted, commingled, communicating with unintelligible primal mumblings. Language forgotten grunts and groans sufficed, moans meant more than words could ever say. Taste, touch, tactile teasing, inside, outside, this side that side her side his side, wrong side right side left side, lick shout in out and again here there no yes again again harder softer yes again where here more more more! Until they collapsed in a heap, a laughing giggling heap, spent but not weary, not worn, not tired, no, they were revitalized, supercharged.
Sarah’s love was enough for all three. Peter felt it, so did May. They basked in the glow of community, of the act, the heat of desire long unknown, forgotten, now rekindled. Most of all they remembered love, a human emotion, shared between humans, now shared between the three, for Peter loved May loved Sarah loved Peter loved all of them.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Pipe Dreams
I AM THE DEVOURER OF MY OWN FLESH.
DIGGING. SCRATCHING. GOUGING HOLES INTO SKIN.
I SEEK CONTACT WITH ALIEN VERMIN WHILE TWEAKING.
TRIPPING THE PIPE, POPPING THE PORN.
STROKING, CARRESSING, PULLING, TUGGING.
AN INDUCED HARDNESS THAT REFUSES TO DIE.
TOTALLY IMMERSED. PUTRID, FRANTIC, FETID FANTASIES!
CLOSED EYE SESSIONS ENHANCED.
I DIG! BLOOD LETTING!
CLOAKED SPIDERS AND ALIEN INTELLIGENCES INVADE.
DANCING GIRLS HUMOUR ME.
THE PIPE RENEGES!
ITHEY CRAWL. UP. DOWN. IN. OUT. PRYING LITTLE INTELLIGENCES.
SECRETIVE SINISTER SIDLERS INSINUATING SIDELONG GLANCES INTO UNIVERSAL DATA STREAMS.
i WAKE FORM THE TRANCE.
THE REACTIONARY IMAGES GONE, BUT
THE CREEPY, THE CRAWLERS REMAIN.
I DIG, DIG LIKE A MADMAN.
I BLEED, FLESH FALLS TO THE FLOOR!
I SIT BLEEDING, ERECTION IN HAND,
DIGGING.
DIGGING. SCRATCHING. GOUGING HOLES INTO SKIN.
I SEEK CONTACT WITH ALIEN VERMIN WHILE TWEAKING.
TRIPPING THE PIPE, POPPING THE PORN.
STROKING, CARRESSING, PULLING, TUGGING.
AN INDUCED HARDNESS THAT REFUSES TO DIE.
TOTALLY IMMERSED. PUTRID, FRANTIC, FETID FANTASIES!
CLOSED EYE SESSIONS ENHANCED.
I DIG! BLOOD LETTING!
CLOAKED SPIDERS AND ALIEN INTELLIGENCES INVADE.
DANCING GIRLS HUMOUR ME.
THE PIPE RENEGES!
ITHEY CRAWL. UP. DOWN. IN. OUT. PRYING LITTLE INTELLIGENCES.
SECRETIVE SINISTER SIDLERS INSINUATING SIDELONG GLANCES INTO UNIVERSAL DATA STREAMS.
i WAKE FORM THE TRANCE.
THE REACTIONARY IMAGES GONE, BUT
THE CREEPY, THE CRAWLERS REMAIN.
I DIG, DIG LIKE A MADMAN.
I BLEED, FLESH FALLS TO THE FLOOR!
I SIT BLEEDING, ERECTION IN HAND,
DIGGING.
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