Thursday, July 20, 2006

. . . breathing harder.

I found her nailing her breasts to the kitchen table. Calmly, I boiled an egg.

Placing a fresh blade in the scalpel I quickly slashed an opening in my forehead. Looking into the mirror I saw that above my gore-drenched face a new eye glared, unblinking, from the ragged opening. Experimentally I closed my eyes - yes I could still see! Except now I could see so much farther! My bedroom had all but disappeared, beyond its now ghostly walls stretched a lurid landscape. Bitter trees leant over luminous lichen-cloaked shapes. As I watched, horrified yet at the same time entranced, their eyes (so many many eyes!), met mine. Slowly, horribly, I realised that the high-pitched voice that had wavered on the edge of consciousness was my own. Screaming! Screaming so hard I knew that it would never stop! Yet some part of me was able to rise above it, discount it. With my newly realised otherness I discovered a way to stop the irritable sound. Removing my shoes I stuffed both feet into my mouth, without pausing to consider the insanity of this act I used my hands to thrust my body closer to those eyes. With rising excitement I spotted their mouths and other more hypothetical organs. In response I felt my penis stiffen. All at once I knew that this orgasm was going to be my last, but the mouths below the trees assured me it would be worth it.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

A cold sweat streamed from his forehead and his shoulders jerked spasmodically. "Beyond life there are" – his face grew ashen with terror – "things that I cannot distinguish. They move through angles. They have no bodies, and they move slowly through outrageous angles."

The Hounds of Tindalos. Frank Belknap Long

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?