Thursday 21 February 2013

Breaking Commandments: Part 2


I startle myself awake from uncontrollable cough and clasp my hands to my mouth.  The air feels suffocating and hot.  I keep my eyelids sealed in fear of what might be on the other side.  I must have fallen asleep in this wheat field as I wished time were frozen.  But time passes and things change, like this ground and my anger, both hot, scalding almost.
I open my eyes slowly in hopes of seeing the stars where I had left them, but staring back at me are the piercing eyes of a red fire.  It coaxes with its long arms as it runs in quick circles around my clearing, closing me in.
“I know you’re in there!” you holler.
A long search of the house, barn and car must have narrowed down your options of where I could be hiding.  So yes, naturally, that leaves the field.  I imagine your small brain would have figured it out sooner had the loss of blood not slowed you down.
“Stupid brute,” I mutter.
At this moment, my Mother’s words ring clearly in my mind in her know-it-all accent, “you shouldn’t marry a man who puts his needs ahead of your own or one who doesn’t like Sinatra”.  I should have listened to her, but unless “fly me to the moon” are more than song lyrics, not much help it’ll do me now.
The fire closes in.  If I’m going to escape, I have to make a run for it.  I bunch my dress together tightly around my thighs, hoping not to singe its hem in the jumping flames.  My shoeless feet dance through a low grazing fire.  Left, right, left, right—stretching my legs in hopes to leap across more ground towards the freedom of the dark forest.
The smoke dries my eyes and unable to hold them open, they impulsively close.  The scent of sweet burning wheat fills my nose, as the crackling fire illuminates my eardrums forming a trail through my blindness.
Then without warning, the smell of your cologne: 
“GOTCHA!” you roar.
With one clawing hand, I stop dead in my tracks in a whiplash retraction as your blood soaked palm wrenches my hair.  My head, my neck, my arms, my legs make their descent towards the earth in a slow motion dive, as if heaven is fighting with hell for my body.  Hell wins.
I scream and squirm for release, but your grip on my scalp is unyielding, the pain unbearable, the ground burns my skin as you drag me back towards my prison; our house.  My mind goes black.  Emptiness consumes.
Is this death?

Tuesday 19 February 2013

What's important to you?

I've been pondering life and what/who is important.  Realizing that things are backwards from what they should be in this world.  Redefining this, starts with each one of us. You all are what is important to me. So I ask, what is important to you?

What's important to you?