Dead men, dead women, dead children
Screaming, crying, begging, moaning
Bleeding, dying, fading, shying
Shaking, blinding, fearing, numbing
Stabbed, raped, bludgeoned, bruised
Depressed, saddened, anguished, melancholic
Beauty at its finest
“Ladies and gentlemen.” A man on stage spoke through a microphone. “A fire has broken out in the back ally. Please evacuate in an orderly-”
A burst of gunfire passed his neck before he fell. Discharge reverberated tenfold through the mic's feedback system. Vibrations drilling and piercing eardrums as it blanketed alarm sirens and screams.
Water sprinkled and doused through billowing black smoke as stampedes of people rushed towards the back hallway. Pushing and shoving those bottle-necked up front. Heels and shoes digging and crushing as some climbed on top and over them.
Dave rose his automatic submachine guns and held both triggers as he swayed.....
....They were really just shells. Those people I killed. Young men and women, married couples, ‘great’ people. They were ultimately the same as every other person who happened to die those very minutes somewhere else on this planet, who’s deaths made no impact to the many lives which continue to live elsewhere in whatever civilization.
Up-close to a woman in a moment of intimacy, I note death growing inside them. Eating away their faces, consuming flesh as it rots beneath cosmetic make up. Like a dormant virus. Every time I tongue kissed my wife, I would imagine all the flesh of her skull becoming weak and rotten. My tongue would caress the insides. Cheeks, tongue, gums. All of it falling apart in a bloody mess. A sore, ripe taste drowns my taste buds. Tongue tip lapping away at bare skull and teeth at each curve and corner. Yearning for even the most minute of a flavor in my poisoned mouth. Somewhat a metaphor for seeking the inherent value of a human, only realizing they have the same baseless as all others.
"I reminded myself that there wasn’t a difference between the unborn fetus and a sack of its pulverized remains. No difference between a working class person and a future human growing inside a woman’s body.
Both were the same.
All humans, by whatever definition, who have been born into this world, living mindlessly unaware of what is real in their existence, enduring self-destruction, are failed abortions."
________: “Hey, sorry we can’t take your call. We're probably out and about. Please leave a message after the tone. Bye.”
????: “Hey Ken, it's your dad. We waited at the airport for you guys and never saw any of you. There were no delays, so we were hoping everything was ok with you guys. We've got Christmas dinner still left over, wrapped up and in the fridge. It was a shame we couldn't see you guys. I think this was the first year we didn't get an after- Christmas visit. Then again, what family does a Christmas dinner after the fact? I don't know. I just wanted to say we miss y'all and are looking forward to your visit. Just a moment, your mother is here. She wants to talk.” ????: “Hi, family! Please let us know how things are going! We miss y'all! Merry belated Christmas! We still have the tree up with presents still waiting to be opened. We love you guys! Good bye!”
Click.
A second ringing persisted sometime after the first message was received, inside the lifeless house. Little girl still dead. Little boy still dead. Woman still dead. Fetus still dead. Sounds not falling on deaf, but dead ears. The lifelessness itself emitted its own ringing in the intervals of absence as the phone continued ringing. Flies listened to the lifelessness as they came in through the ajar kitchen window. Its chilliness inundating much of the room. Lifelessness became a lullaby for the growth of fly maggots. All huddled together against the cold. Buzzing gave a gentle hum in the background.