THE SCREAM OF A RABBIT
He gathered up his blood, gathered up his flesh. His body tingled, his heart beat. His fingers buzzed with life, never keeping still…cluttering like tiny insect claws on railings and walls, pavements and souls. Streets and buildings were abuzz with electric blue flame, crackling and fizzing, darting and colliding as he sat at the centre, sat at the crossroads and counted the stars. He scraped his fingers along and across the black void of the sky, feeling cosmos and ether, tiny souls and ambivalence, angels and demons, smoke and mirrors. Screams and shouts across spheres were like rush hour traffic, thumping through his veins without end, without a care. He was a conduit to lives within lives, reincarnations cascading to no end, everything and everyone alive and living at the same time, at the same moment, at the same point. His head hurt and his limbs were tired. He so wanted it to end, so wanted it to stop, to be peaceful, to be a death quiet. But it never did, never would. So many creatures greedy for life, he thought. Greedy for what they thought they deserved, greedy for what the cosmos owed them, the transparency of instant karma, of instant intention, of instant need. So he sat in the road, sat at the crossroads of soul contracts, soul deliverance. He spread his hands out in front of him. Fingers long and gnarled, like dead sticks stuck onto veined and broken palms. Veins fat and distended, pumping the life blood of the universes, ten thousand whirling star clusters beaming through his system, pulsing through his emaciated body. His eyes glazed, seeing nothing of the physical reality, seeing everything in the cosmic reality. Love and bitterness had no space for him, time and essence had no corner of him. He sat outwardly calm and still, unnoticed, unimagined, invisible, out of flux with the timed world, disjointed from the everyday. He absorbed creatures and men, absorbed angels and planets, demons and stars. His chapped lips mumbled the names of all, one after the other, all individual, unique, and endless. He mumbled the lists that pumped through his body, beat into his heart, whirled around his soul. An orb of electric blue, crackling and fizzing around a boy sitting in the road, sitting at the crossroads.
#cosmos #universe #victim #reality #unreality #flux #fiction #johnhopperwriter