I'm No Professional...But I Built This Patio Roof For Only $155.00

The photo attached to this story is a collage done by Computarded and was my inspiration for this piece.

Her eyes became famished and revitalized all at once, as she stares into the starry millennium that is twisting and contorting completely suspended as it hollows out the cranium of her neighbor. His demeanor says that he was just a man trying to enjoy a casual bourbon after a work day; no one ever knows when unfortunate fate will come for them. She could see as his slippers were becoming engorged masses of mush on his concrete patio as the hose he had been wrangling about to water his crisp grass-his yard clearly something he took great pleasure in- continued to spurt about at his feet. His body now petrified in a constant state of a suburban fantasy. 

The serenade that unfolds and shimmers but the continuous yap of his miniature dog trapped inside the home as it's owner is being depleted- a man's best friend even in their final moments- served to disenchant her for a few sobering breaths.  Her ears become aware that the yap was much grander than this little guy for it had cascaded down the streets, deepening their pleas as it took over the throats of what she could surmise was every dog for miles to come. They all cry out together in the mourning of an owner. She thought of their cries like those of a community banding together to preach of all the unjust in the world, but there were no news cameras, no sermons to be had, no intellectuals to weigh in on the matter. No, there was none of this. It was just them and their cries.

Her empathy for her neighbor was fleeing in the wake of awe. There was no denying the ever curious nature of mankind that sought to absorb and make knowledge their own. A selfish want of anything and everything that was not theirs. She knew that she should rush over to his aid without a second thought to her own preservation, but how could she when this enigma excited her whole being? She wanted to watch this man- this man of simple comforts- be transformed into something more imposing. This man of dress slacks and business lunches and bbq season and conservative dirty mags, because he was a man of God, but a man none the less, be converted into so much more. She feels no shame for watching this mystery apparition envelop everything that is him. Her body ceaselessly sinking deeper and deeper into the wood of the fence as if being sucked into the plasma spasm that continued to pervert her neighbors existence and her own perception of humanity. All the while the hairs on her arms were straining to reach out as the midsummer air  grew electric.

The glare of this substance mesmerized as it twinkled and flared in graceful chaos. Watching for so long had made her feel as though her soul had begun to move in unison with It. There was a lure to this kind of celestial jazz and she began to thirst for it, for at this point she was nearly crawling a top the fence in hope of making contact with It's presence. Her senses seemed to heighten as she drew closer to It. Unable to contain herself, she drops onto his pristine lawn and begins to grovel; for It's energy has seduced her conscience. The Earth felt moist and healthy as it sponged her in, welcoming her to this strange new beginning much like the eager arms of a budding religion as new followers were introduced. Her movements looked like those of a woman once completely depraved of God now turned rabid by the mere thought of His existence, but this, this was no God designed to bring mercy to man.  She can no longer hear the incessant yap, but rather the trampling of insects within the Earth and above seeking out this same ethereal aura;the sound was deafening.

She drags herself limb by limb in the hopes to keep awareness long enough to feel as her consciousness is eclipsed by It. She wants to offer up her body and blood to in the hopes of feeling, if only for a moment, It's raw being. Her mind lost in thought as she begins to grasp the full weight of her body and the notion of existing in a self that has been rotting away since she had made her first breath. We are all slowly rotting like the untouched fruit bowl in the kitchen with the presence of fruit flies being our only hope for excitement. She wants to be rid of it. She wants to be freed for her body is too constricting. She wants now to give herself over and be delivered to the universe that seems to be forming in front of her eyes. Yes, she thinks, I want to return home and implode to bring new life. 

She has reached the base of his feet and there she kneels staring into the tornado of bursting suns. Her body and mind supreme. She stands to face him and her mind is warped and gone. The two stand adjacent from one another with It connecting them where their faces once were. It is there that It grew as person by person, town by town, city by city, it consumed them. Their divine demise similar to the ever flirting sirens of the sea, for who can deny oneself the flesh of man?

Author's Note

Grammar is rough.

Reviews

[PaintedBirdy]

hm, i thought i reviewed this already, so i'll try to write what i thought i did before. but did i have a review up before?

so, the first time i read this i didnt see the picture but because of the the title i thought the narrator was fascinated by seeing the neighbor dying under a collapsed patio, haha. i thought it was grim and funny.

then i saw the picture and realized there was a lot more than that going on. i guess you revised it, but i remember i thought it was a criticism on people blindly following the allure of 'something,' i don't remember what exactly, but i remember i had that interpretation.

now, reading it again, I'm not too sure. the narrator is fascinated with what's going on with a "man of god" who's just a man, with the "flesh of man," and wanting to "bring new life." there's a clear fascination of the narrator with what this man represents, possibly someone who can help bring new life or new experience to the narrator.

the last paragraph is fantastic. whatever is luring these people like "sirens of the sea" is very interesting to me. it consumes everyone, apparently. it's interesting to me that it connects face-to-face, because the mood makes me think it's something more of the flesh than the mind, but maybe people have to lose themselves (lose their identity, their face, what they are on the surface) to truly experience the flesh, the real, being human, the core and primal experience of being alive. this is just an interpretation, of course. i like how you wrote this. it's very intriguing.

if there was something else you intended with this, i'd love to hear it. this is a really interesting story.