Red and Blue

The anger fogs the cortex like an ominous nimbus cloud. It causes the
synapses to snap and fray in disarray, and the eyes to glaze over as if
they've had hot wax poured onto them. Physical objects no longer pose a
threat, as you can simply smash through them with one rage fueled
strike. It brings with it a needle-like focus, or a scattershot wave of
contempt bursting through all the pores, aimless. I sit atop that
proverbial fence, nor the former nor the latter. As I walk through the
snow, scalp flaming, ears fuming, the frozen crystals evaporate by
merely visiting my immediate vicinity. With a well aimed haymaker, I
feel bone connect with bone, the supremely satisfying crunch echoing
out. He collapses to the floor, now a rag doll of his former self, a
marionette. Instead of leaving him there, I cruelly continue, tugging
the strings of his unconscious body, manipulating them to make him do
asinine poses, all while I cackle, and cowardly eyes peer from their
homes, too frightened to take action. The sensible me who is usually
present has now taken a premature vacation, and isn't returning for a
while. He did leave a note however, and my eyes accidentally fall upon
it. It reads, "Is it worth it?" My mind reels. These four simple words
have a rather Herculean effect on me. I drop the comatose body, horribly
shocked at what I'd done. Trudging home, my feet ice, I think. And I
realize: I feel no regret.

Author's Note

I was pretty angry when I wrote this. I feel it makes for great writing.

Reviews

[Peony]

There is true darkness in every being, which you have captured superbly here. Powerfully raw and very well written, if I do say so myself. Keep pounding them out!

[Greg Skura]

Wow! Great description of the sensations associated with anger! I love the line
"the frozen crystals evaporate by merely visiting my immediate vicinity" Brilliant!