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The Edible Icon By abandonedstation
She saw through the straw and kicked up dust that rose from the floor like a slow apparition. It was just at that moment – reflecting on the journey first through the city in torrential rains and then through rolling brown yellow fields that in the distance were catching fire – she found the world finally up in arms over her achievements. Her name meant less than each of her footsteps. Her face gave nothing away because her aims were true. Noble qualities spun around her constantly, eventually speeding up and falling in, her gravity too strong for them to remain at a distance. They had to investigate, sending out tiny expeditions upon her sun-parched skin. The shack she found herself in had no bearing on her past. It was many miles from her place of birth, her schooling, and, after that, her true moments of education that meant much more than textbooks and essays. Hard lessons were the only lessons. Conquering them was the ripest reward. But the failures – whether her fault or the world’s – lingered. She found herself envying the simpleminded, those that accepted as it was without nagging questions. She met many a man who had quieted these urges with drink and worse, pitying them as they either pulled up or down their drawers in front of her, ashamed for their ever-widening faults. That was a thousand towns ago, under vastly different skies. Now in this cabin – the porch was exhausted and the door unlocked – she was using her feeling of superiority at those long left-for-dead moments as a source of strength. She could see little around her, the light of day not bothering to enter, but knew from dreams that there was a broken red chair in one corner and a tar black stove in another. The colours gave everything away. She was about to crouch down, get a feel for the floor become a true hunter of sorts this close to her self-proclaimed Rubicon, when a sound came out of the filthy grey haze. -what have you come for? It asked, and truly it was an it, the sounds not coming out quite clear, whatever this place was not really addressing such trivial matters. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. She found her hand slowly leaving her side and unfastening the knife on her belt. She imagined it could see her do this probably see everything in fact but all this had been rehearsed in a dream long ago. Neither of them had any choice but to play out the page. She briefly looked behind her to the distant light that would not spill in from the still open door to indicate all this to the nothingness in front of her. -it is no longer here, came the empty response, this is a place of forgotten consequence. The words came out stronger now, a hint of boldness and she heard a footstep approach a heavy one but still she resisted the urge to affix a sex to the voice. If she pinned it down and she made assumptions she knew in reality that it had then pinned her down forced her into mind traps and vicious circles. Instead she stepped forward without fear. Here and now would be a fine place and time for any resolution. -what have you come for? It asked again, this time a footstep of retreat sounding out. -I have come…, she began, not used to the sound of her voice as she had been silent for one, two, perhaps three weeks, I have come to swallow you whole. She still could not see it but knew it paused she even heard what sound like a dry and disoriented throat try and swallow and all this meant it was real it seemed real enough anyway and she lunged forward with certainty because that was the only thing that could protect her at this juncture and her hands and limbs ran into a confused flesh in this soot-filled dark and suddenly it became easier it was just another body and a body had so many rules that could break as easily as bones. And as she bowled it over with force the outside world egged her on and some light did step inside to give something like a silhouette as a form of support and guidance but even then she did not look at the face, loved the copious hovering dusts as it obfuscated all above the neck, she thought of destiny and how something far away or above may have driven her here and was now doling out the much desired reward. She hammered on the chest while pushing away the struggling hands that she desperately did not want to feel brush up against her. And then her blade found the skin just below the throat her left hand trying to grab onto the collarbone as if it could be used as a handle to steady oneself. She pushed the steel deep and then dragged it towards the trachea with distant ancient anger. Her hand became soaked in blood and she felt the billowing desperate heat rise out of the body as if it was the ghost. The buzzing in her ears, a metallic drone reminding her of a crime she was privy to much too long ago, did not fade until what was beneath her became motionless. Up slowly and to the doorway. She looked in the distance. The fire was moving east. Away from the cabin. Away from her. It respected her business. Besides, the house didn’t have to burn. It would simply be disregarded. She reflected: It felt good for the moment. And: All you really have is moments. And: So you savour them when you can. And: Until the next one comes along. They always seem to come along, muttered the faraway billowing smoke clouds, as she walked back through the fields towards what she dreamed might be a home.
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'Exhausted Zombie Surprise' would make for a horrible dessert. And an expensive one. | |||