Afflatus

John reaches the end of his rope.

Water lapped his toes. Warm. Endless openness. With a single incision, he opened his chest. With a solitary reach, he removed his heart. Held forth, the instrument of bottomless pain, black as pitch, burning his hands like ice, damned as angels bowed before pride and greed, the sword of ambition upon their burning shoulders.

Branding fingers seared his heart, tendrils of acidic smoke rising, burnt umber pungent. Flesh exposed, salt air stung, a thousand tiny needles burrowing like minute clams in the receding surf. Pain sought pain, an explosion at the fount of gush to shut the mouth of complaint. Fingers tighten, black pus oozed, fingers on fire, pain intensifying. Cracked lips opened to gasp, to gulp air thick, tumid. A rope of acid descended tongue and throat, seeking union of a boiling, roiling stomach, skin scorched of lava, flesh peeling, withering as paper before white heat.

Noise issued, what sounded like voice, his. Hollow as thunder, words blurred upon the windshield of a driving rain, pounding, base deep, resounding relentless, the sting of soul found weighed and wanting, to look into the mirror and where substance once aboded only a sketch remained, hung from brittle bone, almond eyes pulled round, skin no longer supple. A hand reached, not his own, and into the mirror it dipped as a pebble into a pond, ripples of time like rings on a tree, each a memory hidden behind memory.

Into the wind and whisked away with the backhand of nature, a cry escaped bitter lips. Unto knee the weight of his world driven, shoulders hammered like fence posts into blistering sand. Spume rode waves like horses, galloping toward shore, his eyes afire in reflection of a life surrendered to demons and phantoms as real as the movement of mind and sea. Upturned, his visage into the spittle of mother, his fist balled. Anger, drunk with despair, struck empty air, empty as salvation sought; empty as absolution denied.

From somewhere not seen, not known, not believed, a voice susurrated forth, a salve issuing from no direction and all directions, melody as waves, a call siren, fingers twisting n*****s erect, caressing the turgid weight between his legs, closing his eyes with palm assuring. A long slender finger asked not upon the probe, taking the bore smooth, easing the pain of inhibition between the parting moon, wrinkled fruit hanging in shadow, growing tight in machination.

He bent as she had bent. He spread as she had spread. And from the pain of memory, the hot spear of atonement impaled its heat, burning away agony, purging his bowels of regret, exploding his resistance to matters not of hands born, taking from him the doors of pride and conception. Opened wide, from front to rear, a chair appeared, bright as light, locks golden as dawn adoring the frame.

 

(Soundtrack for this chapter: Be Like the Sea--Cathie Ryan)

It matters nothing what they did to you
The storm is over, the wreckage through
Leave them in your wake, no more for you to take
Be like the sea

If it hurts your heart, cast it up on the shore
Let it go forever, ceart go leor
Wash away the sorrow, the tears of no tomorrow
Be like the sea

The sea, the sea, dive with me
We'll lose these rags we're wearing and be
Like the sea, the sea, wild and free
We'll swim out past the longing so deep

Down below these waves in the deepest depth
There are echoes sounding true as your breath
The still, small voice in you, the endless open blue
Be like the sea

Go on forever, shine out in the sun
The full a tá sé everyone
Dance yourself around, give up the small ground
Be like the sea

The sea, the sea, dive with me
We'll lose these rags we're wearing and be
Like the sea, the sea, wild and free
We'll swim out past the longing so deep

Away out past the longing so deep

(Be Like the Sea: Cathie Ryan)

 

Gabcast! DT #26 - Afflatus 1

Reading and Commentary

Gabcast! DT #27 - Afflatus 2

Reading and Commentary Part 2

Reviews

[AutumnStorm]

Be still my heart. Language, like almost every single word within this piece of writing, is a word that floods the mind with connotation and meaning like touch can flood the body with desire and need. This piece is a celebration of language, a demonstration of it's malleability and expansion, changing mood and meaning dependent on such singular factors as placement. Your words here are used to maximum capacity, each syllable roars and demands complete. emphatic expression. Facial also. Commas used to their best advantage, this entire piece is an appreciation of language and a gift of a read. Amazing.