The plot around the corner

It was when the blue light started to flicker…

He had bought a plot of bare land except for two standing trees and a mailbox and thought it was time to revisit the plot.

The trees acted as a doorway to the grassy plain with bouts of small red rocks. He pulled at his dusty strands, torn, in love and unison with the whistling pines spreading throughout his mind.

He laid back and reclined in his chair and looked up at the streaked sky when a pine needle fell and poked him in the eye.

He began to tear, obsessively rubbing the left. Soothing and irritating at the same time.

He sat up and screamed, “Please take it! Take it back! Please!”

The blue light created a distortion at high speed…

His space was spinning. His muscles tightening. His veins pulsating. His ankles inflaming. His hands shaking.

He fell to the floor as if to pray but did not.

He felt no need to mimic a prayer already dreamed…

already bled dry of self- esteem.

Waves started crashing across the street, the ground started shaking, vibrating, spiraling so violently he began to see molecules separating, bickering, rising to the top of nothing… And everything.

… just gray refuge seeking harmony in the moment; trailing and building pieces of time in the plot around the corner.

 

 

By Adrian Voss