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Literature Text
Moth fluttering in the corners of the room, brown-paper wings vibrating, too fast for the eye to see. Dives and swoops. Bedroom screams and tousle-haired girl wrenches open door. Look up and enter room with tissue box. Moth large and fluttery but beautiful. Hello friend. Water bottle – no cups around – and sleeping-notice sign, moth clinging to white paint. Capture, watch out for legs. Wrench open window, mouth of bottle won’t fit into the strip of night air. Wrench window wider. Friend crawling inside blue plastic, stumbling towards the light and away from the warm darkness. Fly, friend! Friend huddling at base of bottle despite frantic attempts to free him. Shaking bottle, friend clinging. Damn you, friend! Just trying to help! Shine white light at bottle’s mouth. Withdraw, afraid of losing grip on light and watching it trail to ground below. Friend cautiously explores. Shake. Hold on. Goddamn it, friend! Be free! Laughing, holds window open. Laughing, holds bottle. Shakes in frustration, flurry of motion. Bring bottle inside, close window. Glance inside. “Shit, it’s still in the bottle!” Fling open window, bottle mouth bites into night air again. Jesus, friend! Finally, hand outside window, gripping bottle tight, and flail wildly. Still in the bottle? No. Friend is free.
Literature
Youth
A thousand burning candles
lighting up a temple.
With the quenching of the last flickering flame
the aegis falls,
and the sacred building crumbles.
Literature
Krisengebiete
Wenn Berge aus Stahl nach Osten rollen,
ins Morgenland, wo Affen tollen.
Aus Menschenschweiß,
für Menschentränen
und Menschenblut,
wo Menschen sehnen.
Von Menschenfleisch
zu Menschenbrand,
zu Menschenstaub im wüsten Sand.
Des Menschen Gier
zu Menschenasche.
Silbern glänzt es in der Tasche.
Literature
Puppet Strings
:21
There's only so much stress and struggle a man can take
It's just a matter of conditions, you bend or you break
And most unfortunate, we get absorbed in it
You line us up and pull the strings with a score to be hit
:32
You sit and tell us that we're evil, you scream and you holler
But you're the one who's picking partners by dollars an hour
Expecting to be treated gently, a delicate flower
I hope you're listening intently, your presence is sour
:43
I could go without your life or wants
Free to be without your idle taunts
When I take your life away from mine
It seems I'm happy, seems I'm feeling fine
:52
...But then you make it back to
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Freewrite: It happened, that’s all I’m going to say. As did what was probably too much swearing. A good deal of this is dialogue, and a good deal more makes no sense whatsoever unless you were there. I don’t even know what style you’d call this.
Comments are appreciated!
Comments are appreciated!
© 2013 - 2024 TheChesherCat
Comments8
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Hee. I have this exact conversations with spiders every couple of weeks. Usually, though, I actually have to go to the kitchen for a glass.
I like the choppy, steam-of-consciousness style. Like I said, it sounds exactly like my interactions with arachnids.