Tuesday, December 23, 2014


i real late with this one because in true fff-style i experiment plenty; i struggled to finish (would still call it a draft at this stage; not as sweet as las' week's fiction) because of my insistence i must marry ideas i know not technically for each other, but tha's the fun in fff, ent? i knew i was undertaking a kinna impossible challenge but once i had the idea to connect the unconnected i couldn' not try, especially when we have this perfect forum for exploration...sooo...this may not work at all; tell me what does/not so i know how the experiment went, nah...flash fiction friday #44 trigger [left open as title, as starter, or for inclusion, by ellipses before+after phrase]: ...when the sky broke...

when the sky broke and judgement call and the flooding start in central and the pitch lake overflow, the midnight robber and the great bat, freshly installed in the mas camp, were otherwise occupied and miss the warning that they done losing ground, literally and figuratively...
since the grande dame lorraine get run the bat busy studying the treasury and the robber on heself as usual, now trying to figure out how to maintain he dreader-than-dread now he suddenly come man-friday; didn' expect when he day dawn it would be under bat wing and not he own broad black brim, but he was there studying empress diablesse showing face (and hoof! in broad daylight!) when the bat come whispering in dark night about tides turning on her-greatness the grande dame and advantage to be taken. robber always for capitalising on somebody downfall so he fall in, but since they take up residence in the mas camp the bat busy counting coppers, and he realise it too easy ramfling people when you's the regime; without the challenge of constantly terrifying, the robber find heself bored. and boredom is a gateway to contemplation, dangerous with these dark minds...is not like he was a stranger to the idea of introspection, but moreso retrospection, stopping short of actual analysis; midnight robber tradition is extreme self-proclamation+aggrandisation, a rapper flaunting his cred, focused on his terrible achievements, from tearing his way out his mother's body to birth he own self to becoming a mastermind of death+destruction+corruption and all the atrocities proudly committed along the way inspiring fear+horror...but boredom have him thinking deep.
tings that never give pause before heavy on his mind now. outside is anarchy as people losing land+homes to rising waters in some parts and rivers of pitch bubbling to the surface snaking silently, suffocatingly through others, and marauding masquerade bands taking advantage of the vacuum as the bat still counting and the robber paralysed by his mind turning inside. outside people fighting, fleeing weeping skies and pitch flowing faster than thought possible, undiluted by the nonstop torrents from above, and the robber lock inside, trapped by echoes he used to just ignore. talk 'bout his evil acts, pong his foul, stink attitude, question his intelligence, but he done prove heself there and nobody could tell him he eh great+terrible as he is; and is he running this mas camp?! but they did whisper in corners that behind that front is a gateway rasta, a non-threatening ease-into the dark thrills of jouvay and night mas no real woman need entertain, an acceptable rebellion for straight-haired wannabes supposedly seeking danger but really just playing theyself, and that- that!- he manhood cyah take. for the first time he acknowledging his trajectory, gateway rasta fuelled by the rage of his robber-self slowly, slyly using that position to rise, advancing through them ranks of protected women and abusing their docility to grow his reputation for being a hard, rough tess; by the time he first encounter the bat, gateway rasta had become beti-slayer, and now he hadda wonder if everything else he ever do is just to counteract that.
outside the mas camp, chaos. sky+earth split open and no way to dam either deluge with the grande dame lorraine long gone, bat m.i.a., robber in existential crisis and no nex' big bandleader in sight; anybody who could just abandoning the island. empress diablesse watching+waiting, quiet in the forest where she know she safe until flooding subside and she could see all who might pose a threat and decide how to dispose of them before she show face again. all she waiting on is dry enough ground to plant she hoof because she done decide if she eternity is this place she might as well make it she own; she tired hiding hoof and hunting under cover of dark; why it doh have man throwing theyself at she foot, begging for a chance with woman so powerfully connected as she very name imply? and if the men and them too weak, why la diablesse hiding? best she come out and show sheself and just take her pick of them until she make the child she want and have no need of them again.
when the sky finally clear and the pitch harden and people start venturing out to survey the damage and see what could salvage, empress diablesse use her camouflage skills like never before; insteada making she corpse-face young+beautiful to fool man, she make the mas camp an illusion of pitch-preserved decrepitude. she secret sheself by the gate to maco everybody who show too much interest, marking who looking in the yard trying to make out what happen with the great bat and midnight robber. them she would deal with first...

walk good.


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