THERE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE AUDIENCE_Deep inside the earth_A Goose With no Wings_Forbidden Fruit
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THERE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE AUDIENCE
THERE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE AUDIENCE It was a bit of struggle to clean the stage after that show which, they said, had really enjoyed , and excited the spectators. They had talked about it in television…..They said, since she hadn’t seen it. No, she had not been part of the large audience who, sitting in the red armchairs of the stalls had enjoyed ( tasted) that tragicomic comedy in which hens, ducks and turkeys had also gone up on the stage. She seemed to remember that even a little pig had gone up on the stage. But it had not been only the animals with got dirty on the stage, huh. The a...
Deep inside the earth
I wake up draped in sheets of silk on a bed of tender foam. Pulling drips out of my arm and inner thigh as I try to stretch. The bed adheres to the weight of my body as I roll up to a sitting position. It could sleep six of me with room to spare. Its corners are surrounded by four pillars of carved wood. One carved in the totem of a snake. One of a bird of prey, perhaps a hawk or a falcon. One of a baboon. And one of an elephant. My eyes are pulled to the ceiling at this time. Pearls of varying sizes are lodged into the roof. Spinning in a slow perpetual cycle in some form of magnetic technolo...
A Goose With no Wings
The winds is brewing, the air is cool to the touch. The grass is greying. The flowers sink into the ground, waiting for winter to pass.The spiders and other insects move in with the humans, relying on luck and friendly hands for survival- human hands are rarely friendly to small creatures- maybe one day. The geese will fly west, where the Earth isn’t too cold to mate, rest, and eat. Peppee looks at the sky, as her friends and their family move along. Her family is always last to leave. “Why do we always fly last?!” Peppee’s little brother whines to their Papa and Mama. “And why do you always...
Forbidden Fruit
As an apple, I had always wanted to be eaten. It was as much a part of me as my stem was. Or my peel. Or my core. You could say wanting to be eaten was in my blood, or whatever the apple version of blood was. Juice, I suppose. Wanting to be eaten was in my juice. I had been hanging for many days in the great wild garden that was my home, alone but by no means lonely, ripe and waiting to be plucked and devoured, when I heard two voices break through the surrounding foliage.Here we go, I thought to myself. Showtime.From the winding path ahead, two people appeared. One was a woman. The other, a ...