Short Stories/Poems

[Sekot]

The sun rose. It pierced the horizon and brought rapture upon the quiet, empty plain. Thick layers of fog clung low to the chilled ground, accepted the light of the rising star into them and dispersed it in communal glee. The grass was bent by the weight of the dew, but they too looked upward at the climbing god with lifting elation to match. The small child delicately placed itself onto the bed it had constructed out of fallen twigs and branches. Not a tree was in sight, but mere flat land.

The child looked upon that murky light, stared straight upon it and did not give way even as it felt its eyes melt and vision slowly cease. The mouth twitched and sputtered. A series of spasms rippled across the face. The sun gazed back, looked down upon the child and recoiled in horror. That black spot amongst the green, a charred mass of flesh and bone chattered and clacked at him. A black spot, a gravesite in the sea of verdancy. It reached upward with one scaly arm, reached upward and grasped with tiny stubs. The spot spread, it filtered outward as it was an explosion in slow motion. The green gave way, the dew dried and the clouds dispersed upward at intense speeds.

A release and build-up of energy created by the blight caused the air to tremor. It desired the light, even as it lost all recognition and became nothing but a pile of ash. Still it swirled stubbornly, still it became only feeling. The clouds gathered and huddled in great masses, too eager to disperse, too willing to fight against the terror. The sun grew brighter, attempted to outshine the gathering darkness. But still it was there. Slaughtering. Wanting.

[Sekot]

And if God himself could come to life I would dance with Him underneath the starry sky. And we would share our best stories and fall into fits of laughter. If God himself could come to life I would go to all the parties and I would share all that I could and maybe we would be friends. And I think at some point we were but I can't remember when. If I was a god I would dance with you and I would dance with them and we would have the grandest time and no one would ever care and we would be together underneath all those stars.

[Sekot]

The door slid open on rusted hinges. It creaked and groaned as if it were centuries old. All an illusion. A piece of the wall, a grimy grey surface on grimy grey surfaces. There were no hinges, no wood to creak. Behind the door was nothing but opaque dark. He stepped over the threshold without hesitation, fighting the familiar sense of free-fall. His stomach churned as the door shut behind him to trap him within. The sensation of complete and utter emptiness was a drug, it elated him and aroused him.

Distant sounds whispered from beyond him. Electrified, he let his mind wander. His imagination painted a picture, different every time. Then his space lessened. The high abated for a moment and he opened his eyes to stare into another pair that glowed back. Then the darkness returned and he was overcome with the feeling of being stretched, of a thousand hands on him pulling in every direction. It was an ebb and flow, as if he had become an ocean unto himself.

His feet touched ground and he came back to himself. He gasped for breath, sweat dripping down his face. He smiled, the sound from outside a distant beating drum. The door slid open and he stepped through.