"One Fine Day"

[Our post today comes to use courtesy of Tiff, of No ACCENT YET. Whether you love it, hate it, cannot understand it (Louisiana residents: I am looking in your direction), or are so scared you end up hiding under the bed for 6 hours and only emerge because your desire for a Snackwell Chocolate Brownie overcomes your terror, I think you should head on over to NO ACCENT YET and let Tiff know your feelings. We here at the Hyperion Institute are eternally grateful that Tiff could step in at the last minute with a guest post on a day when we just could not bring it ourselves.]




"One Fine Day"
Her head shattered on the cement; the spray of gobs and wetness that once were her dreams and psyche splattered against car doors and sidewalk, the silent screams of her dark jubilation rocketed through her neighborhood and woke the oldest dogs.
Oh, but the hurt, the hurt, the pain of the hurt and the pain of the pain and the last glance of moonlight that spilled out onto the pavement while the dark river of blood burst forth from her beseeching eyes, from her pliant mouth, from her delicate ears.
The darkness.
Weight.
Death.
Acceptance.
And rising.
Above the wet pavement, above the hot street, bumping against streetlights, her buoyant soul began a ferocious journey toward eternal justice. The clay of the body was left behind, the desperation of the last moment on the ledge was receding, her vast love and abhorrence for the dust and soil and lust and rollicking good times of the flesh world was being wiped clean, clean, clean like the vestments of a virgin altar boy. Clean, like a whistle, a breeze, her breeze, a soundless burst of moist ghost, of chilly soul, of freed spirit on its way to the neverland of the afterlife.
The body cooled while she sailed. The body collapsed into bloodless heap while she called to her mother, her father, her greatgreatgreatgreatgrandparents and heard their voices again, perhaps for the first time.
The body stiffened while the voices faded. The body bloated while the vision darkened. The body fed the flies on the meat of her once-brain while the hot destiny clawed at her heels, snatched at her pearly white vestments, sullied the hem of her garments, dragged her down, and away, from all she thought was her reward.
The body, stripped of its clothing and valuables and chic purse and pregnancy, swamped into meaty jello while she begged for forgiveness and was given none, while she pleaded for protection and was offered none, while she defended her life and was given no recourse for the inevitable, the insurmountable, the incalculable pit of despair that awaited the newest denizen of hell.

[this story and others like it can be found at Hyperion After Dark]

10 comments:

Wordnerd said...

Ahem. This 'Louisiana resident' wants to know what the hell you meant by that!

Dragon said...

Wow, Tiff. I'll be hiding under the bed waiting for my brownies.

Wordnerd said...

I'm not coming out. Even for brownies!

Tracy Lynn said...

Woof. But in a good way.

tiff said...

dragon - I'll make some chocolate milk too.

WN - but, but, but! you HAVE to!

TL - good woof? I'll take it.

Lady Jane Scarlett said...

Great story Tiff! :)

Rick said...

I know that chick! Another bar-fly who disappeared unexpectedly!

tiff said...

LJS - glad you liked it.

Rick - they disappear at an alarming rate, don't they?

HYPERION - thank you for letting me guest post here today. Quite the honor.

rennratt said...

Ahem.

Unexpected. Creepy.

I like it.

tiff said...

renn - that' all I need to know! :> Mwuahahahaha!!