#2 Punctual Rut

by Alastair RW Powers

The flower enveloped its scent, a log cabin spitting glass. Oak. Iron. A heavy bear like trudge kicked the corners off the curtain, flapping zoetropically as the train ripped passed. Amber to the ceiling in spurts, a taffy puller, motioning in and around window, through rapid window, these familiar splinters pressed against my cheek.

You relinquish a vast amount of charity with an open mouth. But few events in my life I can document so concisely with premonition. Her wit. Her hair. Her kindness. My bitter angered words, they are not my thoughts, not my feelings, not now.

Is it possible to dream another person’s life?

The bus routes here are a scaled down version of the UK. The pig face of Wales, the rump of East Anglia, all lines of different colours, it probably happened by accident.

I dream. Somewhere other than cheek down, August heat, neighbours in the hallway.

I tried explaining how the dream had lied, how bank tellers have a uniform they don't necessarily own.

Adults are taught sharing is a form of therapy, lest she leaves you in a cottage in Scotland with coloured Tupperware stacked outside its barracks. You spend your whole life planning futures.

I hear foxes, screaming, moaning. Like moths they never cross into an accepted realm. It's too disastrous ever to wish now.

There’s a moth that can sense a female up to 8 miles away, maybe we're just set up from the start, our destiny manifest is a punctual rut.


Mike Robertson said...

Powerful imagery and dancing language. No idea what it's about, but yeah.

Jade said...

This is fun to read Alastair, excellent imagery. There's a nice rhythm throughout, and I especially like You spend your whole life planning futures.

Sam Knight said...

I enjoyed your images and the way you engaged my senses. I am, however at a loss for what happened, or what it meant. It did evoke a few emotions: confusion (not just from trying to figure it out), pain, wonder, foreboding.

Rachel Green said...

Splendid imagery. I loved the flapping zoetrope of the curtain.

Sarah Laurenson said...

You have a wondrous way with words. Plot may be a bit of an issue though. :-)

Flutterby said...

I like the way you put words together too. You do well with that. One of the beautiful things in flash fiction is the challenge of making an entire story (with beginning, middle and end) fit into such a small space. The writing is only half (??) the battle. Although, to me, it feels more like 1/4 of the battle. I write a LOT of words. Anyway, my point is I would love to see you match up your words and rhythm where you also get more of a plotted story form instead of just a vignette.