I’m not that stupid.The others must be judged in their reverie of unknowing. Maybe some already know? I suppose it’s possible, but not very likely. I must sound arrogant; I’m sorry. Flickering, flashing light. Contorted clouds, a black-knotted sheet smothering the lies we’re told. John’s back, said she’s finally getting better. He doesn’t know. His relief in his normality stands monolithic in a room of condensed epiphany. How dare he eat the stale cake saturated with such malevolent lies? The number ninety-one courses with energy, malachite veins throbbing with puissant virility. I lie useless as it flits through my mind, dominion over my thoughts. I’d never really thought about God much before it happened, had simply assumed – I believed them. Will Satan himself descend to meet me , for I discovered his true dwelling? Is the deity we know and love, the true ruler of Orcus, the malefic Underworld? I can’t tell you for certain, only that we have been deceived our whole lives. I don’t understand! Why won’t anyone help me? The numbers, the voices, the inexorable torment of the screeching violins all assault my wounded mind.Why is it that twenty-four divided by two, plus one, multiplied by seven equals death ? I look outside. The clouds are deep carnelian against an onyx void; the daemons are erupting forth, heaving and retching with dark desire. I’m falling through heavy air, alone.The record player stutters and Stravinsky coughs, as if Pluto himself is mocking me, cackling at my futile revelation. Mum brings me tea and a slice of the stubborn cake; I feel a weight on the bed.
* * *
17 56
Made with FlippingBook flipbook maker