II. Relative State
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Voices ping pong,“Crazy”… “Like who?...” “sad, but seems pretty clear…” “got to be nuts…””
frustrating, bi-bonk, irritating, mind numbing.
Cla-thinck.
“never had trouble…” “everybody loved her…”
Think goddamn it. Does it sound like her?
“I just never would have thought…”
“just unbelievable…”
Take a few minutes… clu-chunk, out of your own stupid, pitiful lives
listen to me… b-clonk…
“And to go like that…”
Think through “answers” or lies meant to pacify and subdue. Oh my god…
if I could just…
“If we had only known…”
Damn it!… I should have said…
“She’s in a better place…”
what if she… too late
She’s gone.
A trapeze artist tilting…
swayingA trapeze artist tilting…
and begin
to move forward.
A force seems to footsteps eerily absent.
My fingertips slide along the wall
brailing—
a crevice,up,
over,
down,
arm’s length wide,
a finger’s niche…
a door… push
A sudden electrical discharge blinds me. A way out! I brace myself, frantic to get out of the darkness. Push! An incision of light. The hinge refuses to give, entombing me in bible black. I drive forward. Another flash quickly quenched. I lean into the obstruction, desperate… PU-U-SH!!! then grip and rattle it in frustration ...
PULL!
7000 angstroms of radiance flood the room, piercing, tormenting the cornea. Unseeing, grappling forward, I timidly peer at reflected beams, walls sheathed with breastplates of drawers absurdly reflecting a distorted frame funneling to a single massive metal door.
Walls tip and sway
The door’s protuberance anchors me. I tumble on. A forest of tubular chambers prevents reconnaissance or escape. Quiet movement draws my attention, drawing the focus further in.
Move!
A hollow hiss. Words?
Rising, an opaque pane floats overhead, framing familiar bloated water-washed features. “Alexandra.” More depth, higher timber “Alex” recalling a day on the beach, the tide rising, my tiny frame being tugged by the undertow, wanting to turn back, the surge pulling me further and further, my aunt’s frantic voice echoing my terror.
Shrieking her name, I scrape at the obscure seams that run the length of the metallic casket. Fingers throbbing futility, I crumple onto its cool surface.
A thunderous resonance fills my ears, confounding my senses. Snatches of phrases, float toward me, the strange syllables inexplicably intelligible “… kahee-nos' ktis'-is (no longer who she was) … ow-then-teh'-o (under Our authority) …hoop-om-en'-o (abide with Others)… hice al-lay'-lone mel'-os (she belongs with the Others)… “ktis'-is kahee” (she is no longer). I seek my aunt’s familiar warmth only to face a macabre mask.
Out!
I need…
… out.
I stumble,
then
slip
and fall,
the floor dissipates
beneath me.
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Also! a little political blogging on political scene in Wisconsin at Meanderings of a Wandering Mind!!!
How cool! Very well done!
ReplyDeleteI love the way the graphics really reflect the emotions!
ReplyDeleteI struggle with my feelings about this post. A part of me feels that this isn't writing anymore but art and that you've created something as artistic as a painting on a wall. But at the same time you've done so with words. Either way, I'm moved by it.
ReplyDeleteThis is very creative. I really enjoyed it. Thanks for the post.
ReplyDeletesorry not about this blog - just to say I have a suprise for you over at my blog
ReplyDeleteHello lovely person =)
ReplyDeleteI should have been saying hello all the while before, but here I am now. As a lover of magical realism in literature and surrealism in art (I have a shrine dedicated to Dali), I very much enjoyed the genre that you've put together here - so avant-garde.
I've also given you one stylish blog award, because your blog quite deserves it. Here you go!
Meredith: Thank you!
ReplyDeleteLady Fi: As always, your very complimentary. Thank you!!
Michael: Michael, I have a feeling that you're not the only one who feels that way. I was inspired by Mark Danielewski's style- he is a meta-Fictionist and while I am not interested in writing in the meta-fiction genre I thought it was interesting to play around with fonts. There is also a poetic style which is called Shape poems that I think is interesting- I am not trying to fit into either mold but simply wanted to experiment and wanted to put some new things in my book. I understand though that it doesn't fit into the context of traditional fiction and most writers are going to wonder about it.
Regina: Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Hello jys: Thank you for the compliment about my writing and the award!!!
Wow, there's so much feeling in this excerpt! I've never seen fonts used like that in a MS before, very creative!
ReplyDeleteHugs,
Rach
Thanks Rach! I spent a lot of time finding the perfect fonts for the emotion I was trying to evoke actually. I have more fonts on my computer than I know what to do with actually! :)
ReplyDelete