Wednesday, May 22

Prompt Tuesday-Image Five, Pensador Louco


Pensador Louco

Event Entries Yesterday 6:13 PM

The Worm

No more room.

She stood still for a moment or two. Feeling the weight. Such a heavy weight, the flesh. More than she imagined to be possible, and no technology to evaluate it. The unbearable heaviness of a body made up of flesh, blood, bones and needs. She was on her knees with her hair loosely falling over her eyes. She had a certain awareness of where she was and how she got there which made her see everything. She felt everything at once, every sound, every crack that was on the long wooden floor.

A cat was crying somewhere like a newborn. A savage little beast with a cry so aggressive it could only be translated as one thing: desire. There was no more room.

She could hear the neighbors watching the screens. She never quite understood the screens. Empty messages, soulless as she was. Giving people hope as she was supposed to have given.

The nameless one stood up her shoulders adjusting to the uncomfortable hanging of wings that could no longer fly. They stunk of death as they were now rotting, useless and blackened.

The cat was still roaring. Warnings of safe sex. Cars were passing by she could hear them outside the window. The screen. Addictive melodies and promises of love so vain as the ones which made her want to leave. Her wings were almost dust by now. Minutes perhaps or moments before she could sense the wounds she'd carry for the rest of her existence. A life as young and fresh as the small cats being born.

It was desire all along in an endless land. There was no will but to obey as she discovered desire in the form of a worm. A vermin and there were billions of them in the world. The cat continued. The damned screen. The cars and people in the streets. Was the noise never going to end?  The worm was all she could think of amongst the terrible noise. The insignificant maggot who knew how to make her want more.

The man who made her feel like there was no more room. Who made her fall.

Wings resisting from being cursed and blood made of ozone pouring from translucent veins. Feathers falling down a maze of shame and accusations. Restrains. Chains. Her body being formed. It felt as heavy as hell. She felt nothing, really. Nothing at all. Only desire and sound. Like the happiness of the people when listening to the screen. New dresses. New jobs. Money. Consume. Love. What was love after all? She would finally be free, along with her little, beautiful, passionate maggot.

But things are never that simple, are they?

She was there now because she had been made flesh. But it wasn't her love for him that made her fall. It was lust and desire. The same emotions that kept the cat screaming in the night. The same kind of thing that made her eyes burn deep and fiercely red. Like her smile.

He was nowhere to be found. It was too late for her to mind. She was still smiling. The cat was still screaming.

There could be no more room in heaven. Or in Earth. Or near that miserable worm but it was no problem.

There would always be room for her where desire ruled the fallen.