Friday, February 4, 2011


Shelly sat in the old cafeteria where nobody was allowed to sit; sitting in there would bring ruin.
She had found something that was hers. She clutched it to herself and began to cry.
As the tears fell to the soil, more things came to the surface to be found, things that shouldn't be found.
Things better left in the past.
One was a piece of inscribed glass that said The Love I Should Never. . . it crumbled to dust in my hand before I could finish reading it.
A doll turned to me and spoke, and i spoke back, silencing it.
I told her and Jessica to leave- I had to start it on fire.
I went to the wall and traced my fingertips in circles on it.
I stroked it slowly, encouraging it to ignite.
The wall bulged in a spot in front of my face, and a long forked tongue the size of my arm burst forth.
I caressed it, moving both hands up and down along its slippery wet length, feeling the dormant strength of it.
I knew who it belonged to.
Flames began to lick the wall where I had touched it, and I opened the cabinet to prepare the denizens for their awakening.
I bared my breasts.
I yanked the clothing and spite from Shelly and began to adorn her.
I placed an amber choker around her neck, an amber spiral around her arm, amber shackles around her ankles, an amber phallus into her vagina and I was interrupted before I could place the jewel on her brow.
Her forgiveness would not be complete, then.
A crowd still milled around, waiting to see what would happen.
I screamed for them to leave, but they couldn't hear me.
Fools. . .they would give up their lives for a good show?
I left them to regret their fate.
I turned back to the cabinet and the children had begun to crawl toward the doors.
One by one, I tore the flesh away from them and released the firey creatures trapped inside.
They skittered about, finally free, dripping trails of burning brimstone behind them.
The fire began in earnest.
I went back to the wall, stroking the tongue, and the owner began to emerge behind it.
He couldn't see me, but i could see him.
I pressed my naked breasts on him, crooning to him, willing him to see me.
My flesh seared where it met his.
Power coursed through me.
My mouth opened to say his name and complete the event.


Angelia said...


You have fire dreams quite often. Hmmm...

Corpus Christie said...

I do dream of fire a lot. I wonder why?