unfin. dr. - red house - Khat

this is an unfinished draft 

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“The Red Stained House in The Middle of a Blizzard”

7.15.21

1.35pm

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Khat

Kelly

Kay

Kit

Alison

Cora

Lilian

Margo

Evan

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The red stained house in the middle of the blizzard reeks of rust and desolation,

The merry go round aperture slowly declines and the rotting frames are slowly seeping into the building itself,

We are far away from it, the snow is coming down quite nicely, quite quickly,

Heavily,

The red paint is peeling off, getting wafted in, threading w the snow around it, turning it pink,

An imaginary man is pouring kerosene in a ring around the house, and another is lighting a match, and as they both watch the house go up in flames, I am floored at the sight,

You see, I was born to tame fire,

I was born to be engulfed in flames,

I was born for pain, for anguish,

My soul has yearned for something it has not seen,

And so, I wade into the sea of red, getting closer and closer, until the two men from my imagination vanish, and I am left alone with the burning house,

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The house has seen much better days, more frugal days,

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But, with all things,

I started for the journey but stayed for the chaos.

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As I was about to be the firsthand witness upon that scene, two stops before me, I felt a presence.

As I turned around to meet this entity, I heard a scream, then a stuttering silence…

It was as if I had been hit with a ghostly train, my visage fading, melting away into a thinly pale paste

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Before my paper corpse knew of its’ fate, there was a second wind, one where I was surrounded by light- and in that moment, the universe became piercingly clear to me. Then it all vanished, as if someone snapped their fingers and made it so.

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And as it was so, and as it became clear- I suppose what was being done was the masking of the stench of death that these new entities brought in with them, I began to wander into the hapless void of the intermission about to collapse,

I wish I knew what to say, but in the icy air, my words seem to fail me, “bow to the blushing reaper standing before you- bow now, before my death becometh thee”

My eyes were held up limply, suspended were they in my skull, like weak stars, glowing in an “ebb and flow” situation, I swallow my pride and hang up my hat,

*I used to be the one that haunted the sinners,

The last thing they saw as they screamed, their black lipped goodbyes’, all together, all of them in unison,

Now, all of a sudden, I am being torn away from my destiny, those days have gone away, if only for a moment, wearing that t shirt skin once more, I wonder if I may take it to go,

Can I boil it, letting it soak in a sea of blood, the scene of the crime where the night murdered the daylight?