Sunday, February 26, 2006

Imprints and a short story

Why strange?
why not silly
why not Mad
or just a memory of what i once had
to know the truth of it all
and still march down that hall
with a bouquet in hand
while feet wet as i stand
isn't it all the same,
in no way just a silly game
Aphrodite, Athena , all the same
all what ever changes is the name


the imprint, her hand in the sand
to be swept away by the noon tide
is all what mere mortals may demand
of someone whom otherwise would hide

it was what it was, true though
say it but don't believe it

She interrupts him : "but i like to think its good to be this way"
He looked upon her misery, only to repeat himself "say it but don't believe it, Has He Ever Let you Down?"
"never did and never will", flushed she retorts
his eyes softens, shrugs and quietly whispers "Has He ever wanted you to be anything other than that? " and holds her gaze for a heartbeat
and as though he's lecturing "never fear the nature of things, always fear the unnatural" , looks away into the dark, seems to lose interest.
looking ant his scarred cheekbone, she wonders aloud "yes.. i was not like that, i changed and now I'm unnatural, but.. things happen for a reason ,and I'm still figuring it out"
not changing his preferd pose, he smiles softly to the darkness, a tiny tremor noticeable in his scar reveals his determination
"NO, if this is not what you were then this is what you should have been, what ever your story maybe, it is insignificant to the fact that now you are what you are, and that is only what really counts"
closes his eyes, and says in conviction "This i know."
his voice carries through the barren cavern
silence returns to fill the holes of missing conversation
she looks the other way shakes her head and in a tiny voice she asks him, "why do u feel that im kind? what gave it away?"
He Turns his head slowly to her, smiles crookedly while scratching his scar,"i can recognize my opposites"
She says:
"i think i can understand that... but how do you know its not fake"
pauses for a breath "or just a mood swing"
in frustration He says: "i should tell you that you don't know me"
he pauses sighs, hold his head in his clawed hands "i have had many a chance before to see an learn", pause "the hard way" "actually I had too many a chance" but thats a long story that you wont hear any time soon but lets just leave it at that, I Know
Half distracted by her awkward tail, she simply replies "ok"

plainly not comforted by the direction the conversation was going he confesses " a long time ago i used to know someone who used to really get pissed whenever she was ever called kind"
looks at the walls around him, as if the dark basalt would yield to his solemn gaze "she went so far to prove that she wasn't only to lose her self completely in the process"
with the attributed tenderness common to her race, she replies in a understanding tone "i know what u mean"
He shrugs her comment, whispers as if to himself
"during that time i had the chance to see how someone could dismantle himself, rip every piece apart and rebuild herself into Frankenstein ,fractured, mottled and ugly , while hailed by all the dimwits as the epitome of femininity, while from inside she was just a broken festering jumble of flesh that lost shape, and all sense of cohesion"
She says:
so u don't like evil females?
Laughing with a note of hysteria in his voice he chokes on the word "evil?"
in a raised voice with a hint of something far more ancient then understanding, a clear note of menace he retorts "who is not" a heart beat passes while she absorbs his sudden spike of emotion "we all are Evil" he rasps "especially the Fairer sex"
on his contorted face his smirk looks like a death mask, he manages to reign in his emotion, shakes his horned head as if to shake off the thoughts, he quiets down and calmly says "who am i to judge"
She looks at him in silence not knowing what to say to this emotional monster, she ponders the walls around them, searching for anything to distract her from the intensity of his gaze.
melancholy seems to get the better of him, raising himself to his full hight, "i have barely gotten out of the tunnel, still i carry my scares proudly" mistchif twinkles in his intense green eyes "for all the good that is... it's about time we moved, unless you would prefer the company of our jailers ?"

1 comment:

The Philosophical Strangler said...

This the first time i ever try writing something like this, so all forms of critique is very much appreciated...