“Get the fuck out of my fucking head, and out of my fucking face.”
The shoes squealed their own expletives spinning on the lacquered floor before marching away from the scene of anger. The space was empty now, but it remained jagged from the harshness that occurred in that gap. It hung, a deep red and ice blue shattered space, there in the artificial light, refusing to disappear rapidly as one did, nor melt defeatedly away as the other had.
The insect’s instinct kept them away from that soiled space, seemingly empty, but still bursting with intense, furious energy. The pent up fury of months finally erupting, leaving this cold patch of busy air, unmoving yet frenzied, such as that is left when a moon implodes. Even humans unknowingly step around it, unnoticed but making its presence felt unseen.
The world moves on around it but that site still holds its demons, a disastrous confrontation, unnecessary and unhelpful. The world does move on, however, even if not for those two whose emotional rage spoiled the very oxygen that they spat and wrangled over. Who could know what had occurred there, its potency and gravity. Certainly not this one, as she waddles along whilst droning on and on to her companion who cannot have any idea at all how happy he is.
“The sauce was a lovely gift.”