A promise to play

A drunk left at the altar by his "soon-to-be" goes out in search of solitude with a bottle of wine to come across a stream who only wants to play...

Jan staggered alongside the stream that ran through the woods behind his home, sipping at the half-empty bottle of red wine like a suckling pig. The alcohol burned through him, quenching the ache in his soul, heart and brain. His black suit was torn and frayed from walking through the dense underbrush and growth, the thistles sinking their fangs into his bare flesh, tugging, then withdrawing at the first taste of blood.

Jan didn't care. For what good would it do, to care about anything on a night like this, this cold, bitter night full of pain and betrayal...

“Why,” said Jan, “why did she leave me then, in front of so many people, guests, our own families; a grand exit, I suppose. After all, she is an actress.”

He took a long pull from the bottle, shivering as a cold breeze rippled through his suit and thin slacks. Jan mumbled under his breath, the stench of alcohol clogging his nostrils and throat and making him gag as he stumbled alongside the stream, the water cool and inviting, gurgling along the banks and lapping at the tall strands of wild grass that caressed the stream's surface with the passing breath of wind.

Come play, said the stream, glimmering under the moonlight that lay swollen and leaking across its surface.

“Who's tha...? Piss off, lemme 'lone,” said Jan, tripping on a stone and nearly sprawling face first into the cold waters. He teetered in the sandy banks for a moment before catching his balance, a few drops of red wine splashing into the stream.

That tastes funny, but good, like sunshine and moonlight, said the stream, enfolding the wine on its surface with a wave of fresh water.

Jan stared down at the water, falling on his hands and knees to stare at his drunken reflection in the flowing water, ignoring the tepid warmth of red wine bubbling up from under his fingertips as it spilled out over the rocks and sand; a pale, sodden face masked by unkempt strands of black hair stared up at him, blood-shot orbs swollen and watery from past crying.

Why do you weep on such a cool, silent night? Said the stream, washing Jan's hands with water before receding back into its natural flow. Do you not see the moon's blood on my surface? Do you not like its texture and hue?

“Got left at the altar,” said Jan, raising the bottle to his lips only to find the contents gone. Cursing, he chucked it out into the stream and sat back, hugging his knees deep into his chest.

“She, my soon-to-be, was an actress. Big shot one, too. She was gonna be famous, first class act and me, too, she promised me that.”

The stream was silent, toying with the sinking bottle as it listened to Jan's words.

“I loved her, that fine thing. She wasn't a gold-digger or nothin' like that, either. She was good actress �" popular and the like, but sweet and kindly. One time, she found a bat on the porch one morning with a broken wing. She bought that little flying rat right into our bedroom, made it a little bed beside her dresser, and made a little splint so its wing would heal straight and all. That bat fell in love with her, I swear. When it got better, it kept fluttering round the house every few weeks or so just to catcha glimpse of my soon-to-be.” Jan paused, tears welling up in his eyes. “But like that bat she flew off for good one day. Flew and never came back.”

Silly creature, said the stream sloshing its body in laughter. I, too, have been left as well. The deer and the fish �" they never stay around long enough to play.

A pause.

Will...will you play with me, human? Silly-creature-who-tosssed-something-cold-and-foreign-into-my-waters, will you play?

Jan smiled, the upturned curves parting in laughter that tumbled out his throat forced and hollow. “Fine. I'm drunk or else dreamin' that I'm drunk, so fine �" I'll play, Little Stream, I'll play your little games and keep you company so you won't be left again.”

Indeed. The stream shifted its currents so that its dark waters began to flow up onto the bank, engulfing Jan and pulling him out into deeper waters. Jan's drunken state jarred his mind, and he swallowed several mouthfuls of the cold stream before doggy paddling in the cold water, coughing and vomiting several times before he was able to breathe one more.

“S**t, this is cold,” said Jan, teeth chattering in his mouth as goosebumps prickled his flesh.

And how warm you are! Said the stream, inspecting Jan's body. So pale, so...weak, too. The stream bubbled in rising anger. Water is powerful. Many of my families and relatives �" the ocean in particular �" is much stronger than I. I hear tales of giant waves called tsunamis that my ocean relative pounds upon the earth, slaughtering and destroying all. And look at me �" nothing. A...a mere piece of driftwood floating on the tide.

The stream's anger grew in ferocity, churning Jan in its upset and dragging him under again and again with greater force each time. The water, cold and sweet, filled Jan's belly and burning his eyes and throat, cutting off any screams of terror from Jan's part. The stream's anger broiled inside him, hemorrhaging several organs, blood and saliva mixing with the churning spray.

And who was I to be made a stream?! To... to be drank and pissed in and forced to nourish the land?! I did not choose this for I am unchoose-able. I have no fingers to pick my decision, for I'm...I'm...

The stream let out a primordial scream of fury and shame that ejaculated into Jan's nostrils and throttled his brain into a sodden, lumpy pulp in his skull. Jan's body convulsed in a final death spasm before floating limp and lifeless on the stream's surface.

The stream paused, stilling its waters as it felt the corpse on its surface. It frowned, then sighed and pulled the body under, resting it among the rocks and tendrils of rotting plant and wood.

This one grows colder, too, like all the other creatures. They promise a true promise, play, the grow cold. The stream pulled its form away from the crumbling banks and into its normal current, burning with the waning heat of Jan's body.

Growing colder, colder, it whispered, until you become just like me.

The corpse's heat dissipated at last, the stream fell silent, tasting the moon's reflection on its waters and waiting for another creature's promise to play.

Author's Note

Whatever you feel is necessary, but constructive criticism only.

Reviews

[Cricket Kidd]

whoa. Nice personification!