Pages

Wednesday, September 05, 2012

VIOLATION


The random floes of life bumped and ground in the wake of the broken berg of everything. All was rimed with a frost. Breath revealed itself to the world, an empty bubble of words you didn't say, passing away unheard. The earth was covered with a paste of dirt and snow that couldn't decide if it was liquid or solid. 

The police were there to watch you commit your crimes, and you watched them commit theirs in their turn. A light on at night was a burglary. A letter put in a box might go anywhere or nowhere, so you tended to say nothing to nobody.

Everyone wanted to be somewhere else, but there was nowhere else. The world had stopped spinning. The shops were full of a peculiar kind of nothing that you couldn't afford and didn't want anyway. People danced in disco terrariums and bumped against the glass that fronted the street like goldfish, surprised every time to see the same life outside. They had money for drugs to make them as uneasy as a sober person.

There were bars on the windows and flames licking around the mansard while hands reached out for escape while other hands reached in for the warmth. The fire died for want of fuel and the hands were all withdrawn.

The meters stood drunkenly at attention and shouted nothing but VIOLATION at pedestrians. Yes, we know, we muttered, and trudged on into the endless dusk.


1 comment:

Sam L. said...

You got to stop drinkin' what you been drinkin', Mr. Sippi. Or you could sop it up safely by eating more Spam.