fff#45

late but clearly not never; my flash fiction friday #45 [inclusion trigger]: sea cockroach and the sand dollar band

...and then space/time snap back; vision clear...empress diablesse come back to myself here, now, as ever...still a woman in a place where woman gets no respect. black woman in a place where black women get no respect. a citizen of a place where citizens get no respect from self, fellow citizens, or those we choose to represent us, where daily abuse of the senses sending we more than mad...st.anns! where we going?
and this is why i exercise my power. because is my only means of control. and because we deserve it. i am the superhero we deserve. when i hunt, when i choose, i take the ones we can afford to lose. i take the ones who add nothing to the whole of us, we the people. i take the ones who just taking up space, sucking up oxygen wasted on their mediocre talents, to then hawk+spit in our genepool. i take them as necessity demands, as practice while i wait to find the one, wait for the right one to give me the child i need.
tonight is hunt night. moon full. is we time now.
in this time is a new "village dance", reinvention of tradition, we go a dancehall now. tonight sea cockroach and the sand dollar band playing on the grandstand and i there in my glory. these days the dances sweatier, music grimier, men slimier, all the easier for empress diablesse to stand out from the crowd, a different kinna woman...mysterious, sexy in my long, clinging skirt, not your usual type, but impossible to ignore. hips sway, beckoning your eyes to linger, lips call you wordlessly, soundlessly, you hear only your blood pounding in your ears to the rhythm of my heartbeat...this part i enjoy...
i pull, i coax, i finesse...without needing to speak i make myself felt from across a room, make my choice and take without you ever knowing it wasn't your idea, your conquest, your triumph. you think you get through, think you win, you think yourself king because you believe you possess a queen, never realising nobody can contain the empress...the lesson of the hoof is stoop to conquer.
tonight i hunt. for the darkness, to fill the black hole inside myself, i hunt.
sea cockroach and the sand dollar band mashing up the grandstand; i survey my prey. knowing how unsuspecting they all are, intoxicates...this part i like...i select carefully: sweet enough to please my eye, smart enough to please my mind for the little time i'll keep him, shittong enough to feel no guilt over...
i draw him close so he can find me irresistible. i play the mas impeccably; practice makes perfect and my mas must play perfect when the right one finally come. this one, tonight, not the one, but enough for right now, enough to keep the visions quiet, enough to let me sleep after.
he will offer to take me home. many many moons ago it woulda be on his bicycle, or even his back, slowly getting heavier, anticipating his inevitable dread, his building fear when the growing weight exhausting him and he realising he lost, in the dark, in the bush, with a strange woman he pick up in a dance, a "loose" woman? tonight he'll drive, windows down for the cool night air, finally we all stop sweating for the day. he won't have the warning sound of hoof dragging ever so slightly in the grass by the side of the road. times change, we [immortal] must change with them, try not to seem out of place. tonight this man drives [me] to his death.

walk good.