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Submerged below tons of dirt and rock
Under the people scurrying like insects in metallic carcasses
Believers in mass transit meditated as their bodies gently swayed
Weaving their way through a complex anthill structure
And then regurgitated back up to the surface like zombies risen from the dead
Yearning for homes instead of brains
Bashing the drums into a cacophony of percussion
Evoking primal emotions from the audience
Augmenting the movements of the partygoers
Till all their bodies pulsed together as one to the…
Dancing beneath the huge mirror ball
Its reflections allows the light to dance among us
Sound escaping from the speakers driving our bodies into
Contortions of limbs and torsos while
Outside the 70’s became an inferno
Deep bass notes punctuated the melody
Announcing it was time to get up
Nascent instincts awaken and bodies begins to move
Creating a kinetic ephemeral work of art
Even though some of the pieces need some tweaking
Double the trouble was not what Marcus wanted
Usually, he tried to avoid fighting when time traveling
As it didn’t really prove anything in his world
Looking at the two thugs with their swords drawn he knew he didn’t have a choice
Watching his foes split apart, he hesitated drawing his weapons
If he played his hand too quickly he would lose his only surprise
Everything would come down to timing
Lazily he took a small step back
Daring his attackers to press their perceived advantage
It must have been too good a temptation
Now they charged him. He pulled out twin pistols from where they were hidden
Going to be tough to explain the bodies, but better them than him
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Framing the new wall in his basement, Marcus was finally content with its positioning. It wasn’t his best work, but because of the urgency to get it done, he was happy with it.
He would have been even happier if Dave hadn’t messed up the old wall, making Marcus do this fix. If the man could have just controlled himself. But no, he had to keep one-upping Marcus. Marcus had warned him there would be consequences, but Dave didn’t care and kept pushing. Now he was gone and left Marcus to fix the problem.
Marcus picked up the first piece of drywall. He tried to wedge it into place, but Dave’s fingers were in the way. “Who knew dead bodies would be so uncooperative.” He chopped off the offending digits, hung the drywall, and chucked the fingers behind it. Good thing he had drained the body.
“Rest in pieces.”
Image: constructionprotips.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/9/2017/12/framingagainstbasement1217.jpg
A lot of writing advice connotes I should be willing to kill my darlings. Okay, they were right. It made my writing more gritty and realistic. The problem now isn’t how to make what I put on the page more lifelike, but where am I going to bury the bodies?
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It was one of those days. Really it was one of those days, on steroids. Still, Peter tried to keep a smile on his face. It wouldn’t help to complain. Everyone would just blow up if he did.
His friends would probably tell him he had “first world problems”. He hated that phrase. His problems were big enough to make him feel swamped, so in his mind they were still problems.
Peter had cut himself at work, there was blood all over his clothes, and now he had to dispose of not one, but two bodies. Life just wasn’t fair!
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Looking over the remains of the party
Oscar shrugged his sore shoulders
So much carnage strewn across the living room
Too many people had been in too small a space
Still he had better start cleaning up
Olivia would be coming back in a couple of days and she would be pissed
Unless he started soon, she would see the mess he made
Lifting up his shovel he began disposing the bodies
Image:
media.defense.gov/2016/Dec/12/2001678120/-1/-1/0/161210-F-SE307-052.JPG
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
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