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Showing posts from February, 2015

Out of the Wilderness (Blogophilia 1.8)

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Sleep was futile.   Energy bounced through him and then back out again. He was more alive than he had ever been. Rushing blood and breathing were the white noise on which he worked. Carefully, he attached the last of the metal threads to their connectors.   It has to be just right.  What was the guy’s name the priest mentioned the other night, John? Yeah, wandered the wilderness for the 40 days, with locusts and honey and desperation was his lot. He escaped only to bow to something greater.   It was a concept he was both familiar with and hated. HE was the greatest.   They will bow to me, not the other way around. Lucifer Light was what they called him in the hospital. Keep the light away from him, he’ll burn you! Maybe. But they weren’t the pigs. They were their keepers and servants. Not worth the time. Who needs a loin cloth or a tunic to prove greatness? Expanding gases and shrapnel will voice his arrival out of the wilderness , and it will make his way

Monkey Business (Blogophilia 52.7)

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As Murray left the small house, he thought to himself. The woman was an enigma. She would interesting to him if he had been single. The psychic crap never did much for him, but her energy was unmistakable. The interview went well enough. Ms. Walker described how Allen had called for an appointment. She had worked with him when he first got out of Georgia Regional, but it had been about a year since she had last seen him. She had some errands to run, so set the appointment for after dinner. She was finishing up her Moo Goo Gai Pan when he got there. She cleaned up and went out to meet him. From her earlier sessions, she knew he was schizophrenic.That wasn't uncommon among her clients. But th figure that met her had given pause. The face reminded her of Hercules after slaying the Hydra . His scent, sweat, exhaustion combined with the drivers of Hades, filled the room. The purpose of the meeting was to slow everything to focus, she knew that. Tea and small talk made him

Lent (Blogophilia 51.7)

Moonlike, the face reflected the glow from the screen. “..and now my Brothers and Sisters as we begin the quadragesimal journey into the personal wilderness that is Lent, we strive for a plan of   examination for our souls…”  The white clad figure droned on.  “Yeah, right.” Jeremy spoke at the screen. “I’m tired of being in the wilderness.” Ever impatient, he pressed the remote button. “..I’m feeling like a bad boy, mmm just like a bad boy. I’m ripping up a rag doll…” The singer’s curls looked almost three dimensional on the little screen.   Jeremy smiled at the cute figure, knowing what was to come. Click. Blackness replaced the glow. There was a lot of data to process, and like the Priest said, a lot to plan. The forty days for him was up. And yes, he was going to be very, very bad boy. Pigs think they are smart, don’t they? They were too obvious rooting around those cars. They were in the wrong place for the hit. Who cares? It wasn’t time

Tailights (Blogophilia 50.7)

The crimson taillights of rush hour snaked slowly up the freeway. Outlines of warehouses and cheap stores were lit by scarlet remains of the day. Silence in the car was broken only by random squawks, routing units to small dramas around the county. The oppressive tension, as each man pondered what they had seen.    Finally Gomez broke the silence “So, what were we watching back there?” “Not really sure. Maybe a rehearsal for something?” Murray jerked the wheel to get around a particularly slow sedan. “Yeah, that was kind of what I was thinking, a waltz with an invisible partner.” “More like the Masochism Tango .” Laughter broke the tension. “Yeah, he looks like that four-eyed geek.” Gomez took a sip of his soda. “I used to listen to him when I was a kid.”  “Do you think he saw us?” Murray scratched along the edge of his bald spot. “I doubt it. He looked like he was possessed.” Gomez turned down the radio. “Like that old show, ‘O