First story written on my new chromebook, which is amazing to play with. Still figuring it all out. Or, rather: not figuring it out but discovering new things to do with it every day. Also, applied to go back to school for computer programming. Yeah, life is throwing me around.
Anyrate, in a weird place, I guess, because these stories are coming out strange. Maybe it’s because I listened to Tyler, the Creator all day along with lectures on physics. Some weird headpsace going on. Anyway–watch Tyler dance:
The boy curls alone naked. Light but cut in half dabs skin walls. Beams filled with dust curling air. Tossing arms fling stretch yawn eyes wipe curls knees to chest. The boy pushes his hands between knees squeezes but sleep fills every corner of the room.
Riot run streets rake rob rampage ravage running streets riotous youth vomit catatonic kaleidoscope slitting throat howl at the shore’s edge up lighthouse toppling into waves into sand into dust and ocean swirls back swallows spits frothing blood of a thousand thousand lives at sea and the youth carene crash laugh hipster falls blood in his throat now on chest and knives in their hands howling curdling moonbright light.
Children, says Priest, What is this?
whiplashing to music unheard, thirteen girls thrashing, cackling, blood on their hands, in their mouths, black in their eyes spreading out through skin as snakes slithering over and into their bodies.
Children, says Priest reaching to help but thirteen girls become wolves and stab Priest and burn down the chapel and eat his flesh and call him no god.
Eyes flicker fan whirs light eyes bat cries rolls over pulls blanket with him. Flies fly battering dust through stale air. Thirteen girls dance over his eyelids rubs away reaches in his pants adjusts unicorns neighing from his pants down his legs up his chest scratch its nose and he sits up gasping. Left right spider spinning down stops stares and the boy falls back into his bed into pillow into beyond.
Thirteen girls dive through the ocean screaming till lungs fill and they sink sink sink clawing at chest but not drowning, now gills open and feet connect to fin on through water and mermaids grow teeth sharpened numbered twenty six on each jaw and the thirteen girls take thirteen fish in their jaws and shred.
Swimming breathing through bloody water thick with fish death and they rush to the surface fast as they can, faster than they turned, faster and faster, bursting through surface, catching air with their finned hands fanned out wider till fins begin wings and wings pump and beat at the air until they rise high enough to catch air and fly off into shadows cast by moon.
Lips chap fissures grow creek break and blood touches gums then tongue and swallow. Smacking lips dry desert caustic in his mouth hairy on his tongue and he coughs, the boy coughs, he coughs again and again to the blood in his hand, But not mine? he says touching the burning in his lip with his tongue tasting blood and he falls back into bed but doesn’t fall through but stares at the ceiling watching the spider’s slow descent. Opening his mouth, the boy waits for the spider and when it gets close the sun shines bright through the windows and he throws his face into the spider hanging and swallows.
Air fills their lungs but not their wings when they kick away their tailfin touch ground and keep running, thirteen girls howling onto four legs and wolves, they are wolves, and they surround his house then climb the walls and stand on the sill, thirteen wolves watching the boy stare at the blood in his hands running from his mouth as he coughs and coughs and coughs.