SCORN #4

I didn't intend for it to be a whole week between "Scorn Posts" but school is in session and I have been swamped with work. I'm also trying to jump start an older nonfiction project that I have and that has taken a lot of what little spare time I've had. Anyway, here's the next entry in my Scorn series below.

4. From inches away we lock gazes. The mirror and I. The glass fogs with our breaths but at least that means we are alive. Then one of us begins to scribe letters in the mist. I do not know which of us it is. I read an R E S O L… I hope for a moment that the scribe has simply left off the “V E.” But perhaps I am reading the word backward. 

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SCORN #3

She is gowned in razors, and the blood on her hands is not her own. I have no weapons to match hers. So I study her cautiously, from far away. I conceal my scent with wormwood. I bind my belongings to my flesh so that no stray sound alerts her to my presence. It would not do to let the predator know that you are stalking it. Such a revelation would be prelude to a fatal nocturne.

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SCORN #2

I dream of a billion years from now, when the earth is more bone than dirt, when the weight of the myriad dead have slowed the world’s orbit to a standstill. Half the planet lies nighted and frozen. Half burns. I wander this wasteland, clothed only in ashes. The cold I hate. I cannot abide there; it is too much like people I have known.

It is not pleasant, either, to see the sun hanging crimson and hungry over the day lit half of this place. That orb is swollen with its own rot and licks its lips in anticipation of the feast to come when the earth spirals into its mouth. But at least then I will be able to rest. Only another billion years to wait. 

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