In, Out and Back In

In the light of the early afternoon we watched the birds. They fluttered in the trees, eating nuts and appearing to exist in another dimension. My friend took a perfect kind of delight in their tiny creation. There was mist everywhere. The trees appeared to be tombs under which elaborate, eccentric prophets might have been buried. And where his disciples, these feathered freaks, paid their daily respects. I ran the tap and a jet of water bashed the sink, bouncing back out of my cup and spraying all over the front of my trousers. A few drops hit my face. One rolled down my nose, tickling it then dropping from the tip. I held out my tongue to catch it. The drop missed and landed on my shoe with a ‘tap’. One of the birds let go of a bird turd; white, like a dart and looked around itself as though embarrassed. Of course, it was not.

The television was on. My blood boiled in my veins. At that moment, I wanted to fight. Anyone. Everyone. The flickering contraption was actually dismantling my optimism, piece by piece. Displaying every vapid, facile swatch of humanity possible; cramming it into its narrow frame without pause for air. Imagining the number of people watching this at the same moment was terrifying. It’s a wonder that the world doesn’t split wide open with misery…

So instead, I dipped into my head and found a beautiful Spanish door, slightly ajar. Slender feet appeared beneath a neon mist. A scarlet petal fell to the floor, splashing like blood upon what appeared to be marble. Trapped in a cell, the mind of a man writhes and conjours. Wild images and fantasies are played out like war game scenarios. There is no such thing as reality. Love is waiting in the realm of the mind. Expect change.

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2 thoughts on “In, Out and Back In

  1. Great work! I enjoy the live-the-moment sentiment (and anything that disparages television gets a thumbs-up in my book!)
    “Displaying every vapid, facile swatch of humanity possible” is a little bet dense for my personal taste (i’m no poetry expert though)
    I really enjoy the third stanza and the mood it instills in me.
    Check out my poem “love changes always” and tell me if you think we’re on a similar wavelength here.
    <3, :),
    ilkscreen

    • Dear Ilkscreen,

      Thank you for contacting the team here at ‘I Come Here to Destroy!’: the new home of modern micro fiction.
      On behalf of Mr Jay, I would like to thank you for sharing your thoughts regarding the post ‘In, Out and Back In’.
      Barking through his chrome mega-phone, Mr Jay insists that, on occasions, there is a pressing, almost desperate, need for density. Though he says that he does not necessarily concur with your observations, it’s also rare that he ever agrees with the assessments of others; believing, in the true spirit of modern creative enterprise, that merely by putting his name to a piece of written work it is automatically imbued with a profound sense of literary importance.
      As Mr Jay boards his private jet bound for Monaco, I would, on his behalf, like to thank you for visiting ‘I Come Here to Destroy!’ and hope to see you again real soon.

      Sincerely,

      Sidney Seven

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