On
the evening of the fourteenth day he lay shivering and naked in his sealed room
with only the unstable light of a single candle revealing the unwanted
existence of the world about him. Foetal-like he sought security, wrapped in
his moist bedclothes. He lay on his back. He lay on his stomach. He ground his
groin into a pillow. He stretched his thigh along a mattress not quite covered
by a torn sheet. Tears flowed through his lashes and droplets of fluid seeped
pearl-like from the tip of his untouched, exploding and alien erection. The
blood drained from the enemy and in the mirror of a half open cupboard door, he
set his eyes upon that part of him that had nowhere to go; his friendless
friend. The cyclops stared back uncaring. The eye would not shift its gaze as
the shrivelled armour shrunk and expanded over and over again oblivious to the
face contemplating its unfolding ugliness. Folds shrivelled and moved as it
roamed through the forbidden forest, foraging for satisfaction like a mucous
covered snail in search of a shell within which to hide. Thoughts of long past
satisfaction strengthened its resolve to seek, but realisation of futility
stilled the glistening point of its observation. Hatred for the monster sullied
his brain. Yearning for renewed friendship pained his muscles. The arrogance of
the challenge before him frightened the boy, as beyond his powers the foreign
assault stood to confront the pathetic state of his securities. In an attempt
to stare it into submission he summoned up visions of wasted potential to throw
in its face, but still it faced him with determined vengeance. Against his
will, the untouchable spectacle stood its ground in challenge to the weakness
exposed. Primordial reserves were brought into play as his pores opened in a
final attempt to pour control over the situation and sweat oozed into the field
of battle. Monster faced monster; demons all, until with a primal cry he
clasped it with his hands and throttled the enemy until from the crimson eye
burst the white shreds of submission. Falling asleep with the lifeblood of the
monster setting like flaked serpent’s skin across his stomach, the boy dreamed
of hell. From the inferno he sought an escape for himself and his friend the
monster.
A small paragraph from my unpublished novel 'Dance With The Sun'. It follows the death of his lover. I have an idea that it could be turned into a stylish short film. The whole book is on a link to the right.
