A Vignette: Black Saturday


Image source: monk3y.tumblr.com

There are a hundred memories

I would like to bury but one

When you looked at me

And saw madness in my eyes

And instead of turning away

You embraced it wholeheartedly

As if you almost understood

The demons residing in my soul

23 thoughts on “A Vignette: Black Saturday

  1. Soulreader

    I have the ability to read people’s souls. Fortunately, I can only hear it when I make eye contact, and only if they are not wearing contact lenses. It’s not the kind of thing I would have asked, if confronted by a Goddess with a sack full of super powers. I mean who reaches into the azure bag, pulls out a slip of Chinese fortune cookie paper inscribed with the title “Soul Reader” and thinks, “Wow, now there’s something a guy can use.”

    Monday, the sky is so low that the fog has traffic backed up on I-85, and the mists are as thick as a hand in front of my face. I am driving by divination, and so far there has been a minimum of ripping metal and scatter fragments. I pass over one of those white crosses they paint on the road where someone has been killed in a car wreck. I don’t feel anyone left behind. Good, that can be a real distraction when driving through twining mists.

    I slide out of the car and pop my bumper shoot (I know it’s called an umbrella, but I like the way ‘bumper shoot’ sounds). The thing goes pop and then comes the worst sound . . . ever. There looking right at me is the most demonically possessed person I have ever met. I can’t even make out the features of her face because of the dark energy glow around her head, a full Kirlian photographic negative effect, complete with lightning bolts. She is looking straight at me and the sound of her soul is . . . is . . .There are no words hideous enough for this.

    I can’t look away so I collapse, right there in the mud and murk of the parking lot. It’s a stupid ploy, but it breaks contact and I can close my eyes. Oh God, is she walking over or is it the hiss of the rain. Is that the rain or her fingers tapping me?
    I try to stay still, try to remember what my teacher taught me. Focus, open my mind to the dream, focus on the dream.

    I am standing in an orchard in the middle of a very deep winter’s night. The trees are naked and ebon black. The jet velvet sky is teeming with billions of stars. I’m falling into that sky. I’m falling! I hate this! There is something I’m trying to remember. There’s something I do. What is it? Oh yeah, relax. What!? Relax . . . It’s what I do when this kind of thing happens. I relax. I am standing on a rock in the middle of a turbulent river and downstream I can see a woman. She is trying to walk toward me.

    I can’t tell if I should get to the bank and run for the woods, or wait and see if I can help her. She is walking toward me against the current. There is something following her in the river. There is this huge shark, with a broken tail coming up behind her fast. I shout at her, but she doesn’t hear. I’m saying in my head. ‘Don’t panic. Just move slowly to the shore.’

    She sees the shark and turns into a seal. ‘No! Shit, not a seal they love seals! Get out of the water! Get out . . .’

    Relax, find the center, relax. I hear the plash of the water beside my head. She is standing there. Looking down at me.

    A concerned woman’s voice comes through the hiss of the rain, “Dude, are you OK?” I try to wave her off without looking at her.

    She says, “Dude, get up off the asphalt, you shouldn’t be there.” I try to sit up and she touches my arm. The Universe explodes and I fall into darkness.

    . . .

    Rocking, I am rocking and there is stuff on the wall . . . and this very concerned young guy who is asking me something . . . yes, he wants to know how I feel. I feel like refried crap. This young man has be most warming and healing soul ever. He is so concerned. This must be an ambulance.

    What is this taste in my mouth? Holy Carp! She is in here with me. She is turned away but I recognize that jacket. I try to get away, but this guy is holding me down. He calls to her but she tells him that she can’t help. She seems to be sobbing. He calls something to someone and then says he is going to give me something to help me relax.

    This time the fall is much softer and kinda warm.

    . . .

    Bed? I am flying between white clouds that are really bed sheets. I am thirsty and my head hurts but as I swim toward light and sound I hear her sobbing. I know, somehow I know, she has been doing this for a long time. I mean time has been something I have pulled out of my pocket and now have a use for. And she is staring away, at the floor.

    I can feel her vibrations through the bed. I touch her jacket. Nothing happens to me, but she jumps and makes a real effort not to look me in the eyes as she tries to get away from me. Her hair is chestnut and she is looking out the window.

    I ask, “Am I in the hospital?”
    “Yes, you collapsed in the parking lot at school and I called 911.”
    “Who are you?”
    She doesn’t answer.
    “What is your name?”
    “I am Sara . . . And you can see me, can’t you?”
    “Sara . . .”
    “You can see me, can’t you?!”
    “Yes, Sara, and please don’t take this wrong, but it hurts me to look you in the eye.”
    “You want to run away? Don’t you want to run away?’
    “Actually Hon, no, I really don’t. You have tried . . .”
    “I am Evil incarnate! I am . . . !”
    “Sara! Listen to me, I am not up for this kind of crap at the moment. Listen to me. ok?”
    “Sara, you only tried to help me. You could have hurt me at any time and gotten by with it.”
    She gets up and starts for the door.
    “Sara, please don’t go.”
    “You hate me.”
    “No Hon, I don’t and you can sense that can’t you?”
    “Yeah, how is that? Why don’t you hate me like everyone else?”
    I laugh, but it comes out a cough. I start to say, Love is like that sometimes, but I am sure she will not get the joke.


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