Monday, January 18, 2010

fff #16, last fff's sister...

enjoyed last week's fff and decided to continue in a similiar vein (no pun intended re:fff#16). i know i didn't make deadline, but was enjoying writing this so much that as deadline rolled past i decided to finish+post anyway, especially since i already knew exactly where the piece was going and was nearly done. feel free to do the same if you feel to make time to write; thinking of softening our deadline to the following friday noon when i post the next fff trigger so we have a full week to write since we all so busy (carnival!)...lemme know what you think of that and the other stuff i brought up when i triggered (inclusion) flash fiction friday #16: smoke, joke, broke, folk, yolk...

i wait. i lie in wait. i wait for him to come strolling under my perch, whistling his conquest of this night’s virgin.
i wait for when his mind busy building embellishment of this night’s conquest for the boys on the corner under lamppost they mash up long time, folk heroes of the yard in their little minds waiting idle for some random chance to prove it. i wait for him. silently. wait. still. wait.
it worth the wait for my conquest this night. he pass so close and i so still and silent i smell the smoke in his warm breath from the minutes immediately after he spent hisself in her. his life will flash behind his eyes like lightning again. he go remember he make a joke of her pain like others before when he rush in, rough because he know it too late for her to stop him; she young, inexperienced, frighten to disappoint. he go remember how he lie to say he disease-free when he too broke or doh care to protect his victim. he go remember every last lash he dish out with every new bruise he get from me this night, and my bite will mark him for everybody to know who deliver justice.
he pass and i follow, savouring the leisurely chase until our unspoken communion interrupted by the phone in his pocket. he listen, grinning, then laugh, “boy, yuh worried ‘bout big man? i must be on yuh mind for the hundred dollar yuh still have for me…nah, doh dig, i almost reach, and just realise i hungry too, so i now hustling up to see wha’ it have to eat…scene…right…”
mercifully soon we alone again, listening to his breathing speed up as his pace quicken. if he satisfy his hunger, better for my taste, so still i follow, allowing his last meal before i make mine of him, knowing his growling belly will prevent any thought of entering the house backwards from entering his mind.
we cross his threshold together, finally close enough for his first whiff of sulphur. i enjoy his involuntary shiver of confusion as he throws his eye around in vain for my source. we move to his kitchen, him straight to the fridge to ponder the open box briefly before pulling things from the bottom drawer and a carton from a shelf.
i wait, watch him beat egg whites and yolks into a frothy cream before adding diced chunks of colour, hoping he will use meat in his omelette to further satisfy my growing craving for this well-seasoned man. i wait, watch him pull a can from a cabinet shelf, and in my excitement he scent me again. i wait, lingering sulphurously, wanting his heart racing, wanting him warm and juicy, wanting to feel his pulse pound when i pierce his flesh. i wait, his meal the foreplay for mine.
i tease, brush past his shoulder to make him look round at my now-familiar sharpness in his nostril, then swing back to make him spin the opposite way, and as i watch his beautiful body whirl i hear a crash and feel a shower of sharp pricks, pelted by tiny burning pebbles, feel myself in flames, invisible no more.
he shocked still at the sudden sight of me semi-solidified by the lake of salt spilled all around him, insulating him, keeping me from the blood i can now hear pulsing through him as i wanted; smelling his liquid life and the coppery irony of our separation i realise i don’t know the time. i fall to my knees with a wail and begin, pounding within myself now, racing the sunrise, counting the grains of salt for my survival this night.

non-trinbagonians who don't recognise fff #15 (la diablesse) and this week's cousin fff #16 (soucouyant) can check my sidebar for links to info.
walk good.


Post a Comment

<< Home