And as the Moon Exploded… Dead Deer

“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.”

Today I wrote from 23:18 to 23:28. I was prompted by ideas here. My other writings here. All my prompted writing here, and my tweets here

Plastered Petticoats – Dead Deer

Photo Credit :- Nathan Fischer

Today I wrote from 01:17 to 01:27. I was prompted by ideas here. My other writings here. All my prompted writing here, and my tweets here

The Moon

Reflecting light severely the moon was bold in the night sky. An alabaster cream shimmering half circle hanging lightly amongst the stars. The strength of it’s glow rendered those closest to it not visible to the eye. The contrast of the bright Moon and the deep deep dark blue around and all about gave dimension to the apparently flat disk.

Yet tonight that contrast was not marked by a crisp border; where the moon ended and the sky began. Strangely on this night there was an uneven fog encircling the Moon. In it’s ethereal way this border skimmed around the large body quite prettily. It danced its way around never quite there; never quite not.

It was an unusual sight, certainly, this wafer-thin lunar petticoat, the colour of thin sheets of alabaster cut thus to act as windows, the strong Mediterranean sun penetrating to create a warm gleam out of this cold stone.

Inspired by seeing the moon on a late walk last night