Wind swept in sheets outside the safe house, a storm that slammed shutters and howled from deep within the gut of night. Kerosene dampened the carpets and and misted the air with a poisonous wet haze. My eyes watered just to the edge of overflow, and looked glassy and shallow. Across from me I could tell there was a moment when recognition of the same agenda is achieved. He tried to swim there, but I could no longer entertain his filthy leather boots against my exposed thigh, the heel just inches, barely grazing tiny hairs. I showered alone, and left.
Always is the danger of falling into the same dialogue with her, it happened last time. You know that kind of talking that reveals nothing but the depths that language can go to in order that you can bury a meaning.
It was the language that caused the disruption, the snag in the flooring that tripped up time. You are just one of the many victims involved, believe me, you're not alone in this. No one could see that it was too late for any action, the damage was done. Now it was just a manner of dealing with it until something can be mounted against the order.
But, with the very source of language, now poisoned, that their very source of communication was laden with ancient traps and word spells.
It was too late now that was self evident, they had long since questioned it.
Now only hollow moans can be heard on the outskirts of the civilized ruins, beyond the waste land. Somewhere out there the sky returned to blue and the air was sweet to breath. They would find it again, then they could start over.
"Do you feel that this conversation has already been had. And, am I wasting my time? Seems like it. I count on only myself in the end, and I'm sure there are more than a few of you in the room that will sell me out to the highest bidder. That, you might not believe, I understand, but please do me the honor of waiting until my family has left the island before you bring down your well deserved wrath upon me. I deserve it after all."
Ballasts creaked and bobbed in the toxic bay. Thick green algae clotted the water and delayed their crossing. Slow and sure was the way. the old tanker now served as the slave market, hundreds of south east Asians kept hostage in the bow of the ship. Pirates now dominated commerce surrounding the ruined city.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Intellectual Graffitti : part one
Task ushered the stranger onto the deck of the ship, looking out over the thick sky, he pointed to where a black mass could be seen growing larger as they neared. It grew to enormous size. "This is the gape in the atmosphere, the hole that we cannot repair. It is here our journey together comes to an end, Mr. Withers and you are at the mercy of the fates."
Sunday, December 21, 2008
The Gravity Wells of Mons-Serrate
The Tower- A lavish apartment building, each floor a separate residence.
-Do you think I'm going to lose this nail?
Looking closely at the blood dried tip of her finger, she pushed the nail, held by just its edge, it rose and moved in an unnatural way. Sitting on the wood floor she held herself up with one foot anchored, knee bent.
-...and that is exactly why I said we cant do this...huh?...
-Do you think I'm going to lose this nail?
-Honey, please I'm on the phone.
She had not complained about the pain once. Maybe she winced once, but that's only a maybe.
I think she was uncompromisable.
She would asses the situation and accept the new environ without so much as a hint of its burden.
She used to say that we often got tied up trying to 'pin-down time'.
Anyway, assuming that for the moment, we actually had any real power over such things, what good would it do us?
What good are these fragments of remembrance anyway?
Other than fulfilling the emotional response of nostalgia, they held no real relevance more than any other moment did.
An incident does not dictate or define the individual involved.
Part of the whole.
Life.
A collection of moments.
This rush of time colliding with itself.
The forced destiny is ones own to craft.
As we grow from one isolated situation to another, all vaguely collected together the feeling of "meant to be" is everywhere.
We tend to put too much reliance on a single moment or on the importance of occasions, and let that be the cornerstone of our thoughts, and how we track our success' and failures.
-Plain and simple. I told you, I'm not interested in going back and telling anybody where I got the information from, I don't play like that.
- It does me no good to go back and tell em who I got the information from.
-I see that you, like myself, are someone who values the sacred art of the truth.
-Someone that understands, there is no real power in gossip, here-say and lies. True power, comes with ones proximity to what they believe is the truth, and how much those around him believe it is the same truth.
-That is why I am about to tell you, what, I'm about to tell you.
-Because I know you can keep a secret. And this is one hell of a secret...
Aboard the Arcade- An air-ship in barren rainy skies.
-I'm sorry Mr. Zenith, but that is the last of what we were able to capture and process before the corrupted file begins. We are still in the process of trans-coding for both reference and location.
-Let me know when you get a lock on the location. Id like to know where and when this is coming from before I make the call.
Of Course sir...
-I'll be in my quarters.
-YEOMAN bring the ship around and into one of the gravity wells, we'll take her offline and go all quiet.
-Yes Mr. Zenith
__________________________________________________________________
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
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