Großvater
I was four.
Opi said it was a wake.
He said, "Marushka, we will go and look." With respect, for the dead.
Dead, I knew to be the not-moving.
The dead man was very important. So many people came to see him.
With respect.
Lying there.
"...a Politician," Opi said. I thought that must be something like a Policeman.
An Officer behind the scenes, at some desk, off duty, no uniform. I saw him armed, with telephone. Important.
He had a pin. On his chest, a little flag, over his silent heart.
People gathered. They looked, pointed. One or two at a time, we filed through. The room was small, or it was really the edge of a hall, a corner roped off.
"Did he hang himself?" asked a boy older, more worldly than I.
"Hush! whatever gave you such an idea?!" scolded his Mother.
"...but Mutter..."
"Sh."
And they stepped out of line, an attendant guiding them to the right Exit.
After much standing around and twisting our brims in our hands, it was our turn to walk along the rope.
The box behind it was lifted high.
So high a grown man could lean in and kiss the dead man's cheek.
For a moment it was just Opi, the deadman, and me.
Opi raised me. The man's face was wet.
Tears? I asked. "Spit," Opi whispered.
Now I noticed the man behind, seated, half-covered from viewing by the casket and fancy skirting.
Eating.
He was eating! And he was crying while eating. He tore into day's old bread, and with dirty hand, wiped sobs. The snot mixing with crumb.
Breaking the bread, with himself.
The back of his hand, wiping and caking his stubble, more, and more with each bite. With each wipe.
I could not turn away.
"Opi!," I said, "What is that beggar doing?!"
"That is the Sin Eater," said Grandfather in the smallest voice, as a hand noisily tossed several cents into a metal bowl at the beggarman's feet and pushed another old loaf upon him. I could no longer tell if he was hungry.
It was now the deadman, the beggar, Opi and me.
I knew Sin was wrong. And here was one man eating up a whole Church week of Communion!
"He is eating the dead man's Sins," Opi said as we turned away.
It was then I tasted Shame.
2024 JUN 15
Toward the Light
As I lean toward the light
A very small light
From a very small candle
I found in the trash
I can see enough
To finish this assignment
Soon
As I lean toward the light
This dwindling light
From this dwindling candle
My last candle
I feel like the light
Struggling to become more than
It is
As I lean toward this light
I add slivers of wax
Collected from my last light
To keep seeing this light
As my
Resuscitated candle
Keeps seeing me
I want to cast
My skills on the world
Not just my shadow on the wall
I want to be
What others believe I can
Not just the failure
They believe I will become
As I lean into this light
My only friend protecting me from
The darkness in both
This room and my life
I say a small prayer
That I may lean toward it again
Tomorrow
The Trip
Pilon after pilon
outlines the
under construction
signs amidst
connect the dot
orange neon with
ringed iridescent
reflective strip
as accent to
confusion...
an accident
waiting
to happen
eight hours
downtown
...prevented
by forethought
& route planning
when spinning...
out of control
hooky!
the body rises
& suddenly
the way
looks clear
from above
on landing.
2023 NOV 29
The Way Reality is Played
Snip snip
snippety snip...
somedays I read everything
the wrong way
Snippety snip...
I scrap book my fabricated self
for the fortnight
like punishment
is a videogame
outside of life
the motions...
calculable and safe
in concrete...
like there is no other way
no tubing through
no alt key memory card
in the pocket sleeve
no monkey wrenched
in the charred cake
of Marie Anoinette's
individual wrap ready-mades
a dashed dotted pattern...
for me to retrace
a white plastic slicker
cloaked in inner shadow
snip snip...
snippety sniper snip
I sit am bushed
cross hair cut
under the money tree...
washed and weathered
funny the lively sound paper makes
along the littered trail
in my wake.
2023 NOV 17
“Indulge me” Challenge Winner
Congratulations thisisit! What a great write and a thoughtful nod to Sylvia Plath. I really loved that you touched on the little-recognized side effect from simply having too much (good) to choose from: decision paralysis. There is also that unique type of dread that can arise in the midst of it all. You summed it up perfectly with this line:
“There's no way to enjoy all the figs.
And if you don't choose a fig, it drops to the ground and rots. It's too late.”
*chef’s kiss*
Honorable mention entries are from the suspenseful amandabjaworski, the aquatically delightful pretty_archaic, the heartfelt ErJo1122, and the ever-scandalous Ferryman.
Thanks again for everyone’s thoughtful entries; you all continually amaze me with your talent! I hope to see you again for my next challenge <3
I'm actually kind of surprised that most of the stuff is inside and not still soaking in some mosquito puddle. Yeah they've had a few weeks to simply move it from out here to in there but I was half to wondering what kind of contraption they most likely rigged up to just help prolong the move-in even at the very last step.
No tarps, no canopies, hell they even brought in the boxes (or burned them I suppose).
Having a taxi drop you off out in the middle of the country is a weird feeling. Hell I wouldn't even consider that lemon on 3 donuts and a flat tire a taxi but it still feels like I almost tainted this country lifestyle with cityfolk activities.
I ALMOST feel bad about showing up like this; was suppose to be back over a week ago but the funeral I was at was full of widowed old ladies that needed someone to fill the void their late husbands left and I'll just say this… If I weren't a gentlemen I would've stayed and floated between those ol wasps until each one croaked and lived the highlife.
It's crazy the amount of love those hags still have left to pinch into someone's cheeks. All those wholesome grannies out there that just wanna fatten someone else up until their heart literally explodes, and in the meantime have you do there chores and housework for pay that they insist you take and it's always wayyy more than you would've felt decent even considering…
I do feel awful about just leaving them all there but I tried to make sure they were all caught up and able to make it til whoever else croaks and has me on a greyhound back that way- well now that I'm on all their sweet sides It'll likely be at least Coach on spirit airlines from here on.
This drive way is longer than they described and I'm glad, the longer the drive way the less likely you'll have to chase some stranger down it.
I'm finding myself imagining what fucked up stuff we could place along this just in case some motherfucker tries coming through here.
Obviously a gate up front followed by a tire spiking strip that we, in our cars, can just attach a big rug to some rope for when we wanna leave.
I always liked the idea of there being 3 pathways and this driveway already has 2, shit!
There's two paths and those dickheads didn't tell me which one! I always, always choose the middle but there ain't no gotdamn middle when there's only two options!
Anyways, when there's 3 options 1 option leads either to the exit or to a pond and you don't get no warning.
The other 2 lead to the actual stuff like the house and the barn.
Along each trail we can put that this way leads to the barn, even though it's the one that leads to the house. GOTTA keep folk on their toes.
This place is gonna be somethin else tryina maintain during the summer. Might have to buzz my hair and see what color the sun turns it after months of yard work.
The driveway came to an end and it turns out the direction taken was not the one that brings you to the front door.
The driveway came to an end and it turns out the direction taken was not the one that brings you to the front door.that brings you to the front door.
“SONOFaBitch” I can either turn around with all this luggage and nighttime bugs just droolin for me to do so, or I could just lug it across this damn field and hope none of them forever puddles exist…
Before he could think of the best option, a moaning noise that was either some random in heat animal OR something letting out a few last death rattles and whatever got them is coming up to get luggage carrying fella right about now.
“Welt that answered it for me” tossed my luggage at the noise and I for sure hit it somewhere because the noise echoed off my stuff as it flew toward it and once it landed the noise stuttered…
I wasn't too far ahead when that noise changed and seemingly done went through puberty by time I lost my first shoe to some mud.
Back Porch 4 or so minutes after abandoning the luggage and a shoe:
“You sonzafuckingWhores- You AHhghh" he continued tripping and landing on every joint to protect the squishy parts.
Fin and Austin both looked out from the deck trying to make out whatever the hell was going on.
Fin exhaled the smoke he was trying to keep in and started coughing out of every hole except his ass.
“Dude shut the fuck up!” Fin tried and Austin started slapping him on every slappable body part until he finally did shut the fuck up.
Fin: “you can't even see out that far why the fuck was that even necessary?”
Austin: “Maybe if you turned off all these bug zappers and fog lights and whatever the fuck else you can't just replace with a night light come bedtime”
Fin wanted to prove this wasn't what's causing the distorted view and when he flipped the switch all the power went out.
Austin: “Oh very nice you're-"
They both stopped as they heard the angry narration get closer
“Mother of all tits why the hell would there be a random gravel and glass pit inbetw- Oh hell fucking guys let's just have a pile of fucking bones right after that incase we need those for some witchish shenanigans”
After climbing over the bones, he felt a bit of rain come down but noticed it was different. It burned the cuts on his hands and his eyes.
A giant explosion of this liquid bursted in patterns of 2, eventually, hitting him in his balls so hard he actually started throwing up.
The dry heaves were genuine and he just sped up his route he was taking a straight away toward the backdoor and since the lights are all out he planned to literally go straight over, under, through whatever came up.
The dry heaves kept coming and the pain was severe enough that he thought he may actually have blood pissing maybe even pouring out of his dick.
The smell from the little explosions he's now deeming to be water balloons full of both of his soon to be roommates piss
“I SWEAR… (dry heaves) to Cow and the farmer that raised it.. This (dry heave) better not be fueled by a lack of indoor plumbing! IF I HAVE TO shit outdoors it's going... it's going to be into one or both of your mouths while the other sprays my taint from behind with my super soaker-” He immediately was greeted with that super soaker to his eyes and mouth.
“YOU GUYs both think this is funny but I guarantee you're the ones telling me I'm overreacting when I" he rattles off the list of his morbid plans.
He finally makes it to the back porch and they were just about out of ammo.
"Welcome Home"