llanw isel
steve coel
Daylight rippling thru the curtains at dawn...
steve coel
Daylight rippling thru the curtains at dawn, airplanes passing over head returning from distant places.
The scuffles down the street, the bronchial coughs reliving a daily nightmare of abuse. Substitutes taking the place of reality - curtains parting and eyes staring. Disease spreading daily - daily doses of intoxicating fumes of annoyance and disgust.
Jubilee cup-cakes and thoughts of tuscany blood dripping slowly down walls bullet ridden miseries detailing every ill deed and evil thought. Slimy deposits gripping the innards of the sanctuary, cupping steaming bowls of tasteless soup - every drop making you forget your misery and loneliness.
Coiled ready to swing into action unleashing hidden powers. Gypsy souls crying out satiated by inner desires for satisfaction and freedom. A glittering future, without selling your soul, without suppressing your true feelings, without concealing your conscience, without self denial, without losing your pride, without fear...
Gutteral moans of approval and self denial, menial tasks fulfilled glumly and without feeling. The screech of brakes...noise...noise...you try to catch the moment and spend your life searching. The grinning soldiers feel the heat, death perspiring from every pore. Torn apart from beneath the earth...ship-sinking fun hibernates from sight relinquishing into flights of uneven fancy.
Global saturation burning holes into the earth, passing easily thru solids and evaporating dreams as easily as a possessed heartache. Micro dreams cuddle dimly inside squalid shelters carved from the debris discarded by consummate wasters and developers. Thimbles full of wine, discarded paper shelters hold the dreams that pass nightly. Another day, another nightmare opens its eyes and passes by. Unclean, stumbling and mumbling, sharing the butts.
Pumping out urban waste, ejaculating into the air and distributing to the masses the leftovers of disease. Poisoned air, poisoning the pureness and coating the soul with the foul smelling putrid liquid. Lungs pumping and losing, too quickly. Naked...limp...lifeless. Sugar coated whimpering from the alley, shoes scuffed and old, the coat dirty and torn, the shirt ripped. No socks.
The stick tip-tapping down the platform, the crowd parting sympathy and shock. The stick tip-tapping up the stairs, wide eyed and smiling surprise no anger. Blister and shattered feelings bleak groans echoing across the park as the fire cracks and grimaces. An evil flicker of recognition of its destructive power.
The streetlights showing the way towards the bar, cars gleaming and glaring from every corner. The street glistens, perspiring after another days heavy abuse. The pavement cracks seem wider at night as they wait to snag a drunken shoe, breaking the stride and the assumed confidence that evaporates thru fear and embarrassment. Faces pass by endlessly, a steady stream of stories and attitudes. The haven of a quiet corner, reading, drinking, smoking.
Spindles lie idle in the corner of the workroom - papers strewn across the floor, figures showing past successes and failures. Ghosts dormant and passing into the realms of disbelief at a world gone crazy.
Faded photographs of incidents long forgotten - now meaningless buildings hold the songs of the past and the air we breathe - shared with strangers.
microflashfiction
An11.59 Publication
