The Summer and the Courtyard
Dennis Alan: Im a U.S. citizen! Think about that!
Dargent Peytraud: I dont see the Ambassador here, do you?
The Serpent and the Rainbow
It was by the waning light, just the end of summer, that we arrived.
Streetlights, guttered to life as they sped by past us one by one, and the air, though still heavy with the day's humidity, had begun to hint at a cooler night. I leaned back, my head tilted at the
bruised sky, and wondered how things were going to be... There were only four of us left. And, God knows, there may be no one by the time morning comes along.
Newspapers screamed that the world was ending; left and right, signs of the apocalypse were cited, both supernatural and scientific. Exclamation points and all caps became the rage.
Television was no better, though they tried to keep the hysteria from creeping into their voices, their backs held painfully straight while their smiles held back their panic. The world was ending and, in spite of our movies, no one knew what to do. Some wanted to wait it out, confident they'll be taken to a better place. They barricaded themselves in their cellars and counted the days out in campbells and uncooked microwave dinners. The religious went up mountains in order to be the first ones to go (the politicians suggested the moon). Some, not as sure about the destination they'll be ending up in, tried to find a way out. Usually, it involved the receiving end of a gun. We chose the other option. We ran away. Whether to it or from it is what we'll find out by the end of the story.
___________________________________________________________________
Dargent Peytraud: I dont see the Ambassador here, do you?
The Serpent and the Rainbow
It was by the waning light, just the end of summer, that we arrived.
Streetlights, guttered to life as they sped by past us one by one, and the air, though still heavy with the day's humidity, had begun to hint at a cooler night. I leaned back, my head tilted at the
bruised sky, and wondered how things were going to be... There were only four of us left. And, God knows, there may be no one by the time morning comes along.
Newspapers screamed that the world was ending; left and right, signs of the apocalypse were cited, both supernatural and scientific. Exclamation points and all caps became the rage.
Television was no better, though they tried to keep the hysteria from creeping into their voices, their backs held painfully straight while their smiles held back their panic. The world was ending and, in spite of our movies, no one knew what to do. Some wanted to wait it out, confident they'll be taken to a better place. They barricaded themselves in their cellars and counted the days out in campbells and uncooked microwave dinners. The religious went up mountains in order to be the first ones to go (the politicians suggested the moon). Some, not as sure about the destination they'll be ending up in, tried to find a way out. Usually, it involved the receiving end of a gun. We chose the other option. We ran away. Whether to it or from it is what we'll find out by the end of the story.
___________________________________________________________________
___________________________________________________________________
"Hey. Wake up."
When I opened my eyes, we were well deep into the town, and though the streets were lit, the areas outside it were pitch dark. The car was cruising at a steady pace and I could hear someone at the back whistling our graduation theme. Then it was quiet.
The air was too cold.
My eyes strained themselves, trying to take as much of everything in. While the car crawled, so did my eyes over walls and buildings and empty parking lots.
"Nicky."
I turned, and she was clutching my shoulder, my jacket bunching up in her fist. Her eyes were large and shiny.
"I don't wanna go. Please."
I patted her hand, "S'alright, Beth."
She didn't let go.
She didn't let go until the end.
Beth screamed while it dragged her away. We looked at our feet while it happened, our faces stony. She shook me like a ragdoll until it ripped her off her arm, blood arcing, splattering over
vinyl seats and plastic passengers. My ears rang from her screams and my heart thudded in my thin chest. I learned not to breathe past the 60 second mark (an achievement, what with my asthma). 60 seconds. That was all the time it took.
I tried not to pray to anyone or anything. Or even think. I just kept my eyes to my feet. And started counting from 60.
"Hey. Wake up."
When I opened my eyes, we were well deep into the town, and though the streets were lit, the areas outside it were pitch dark. The car was cruising at a steady pace and I could hear someone at the back whistling our graduation theme. Then it was quiet.
The air was too cold.
My eyes strained themselves, trying to take as much of everything in. While the car crawled, so did my eyes over walls and buildings and empty parking lots.
"Nicky."
I turned, and she was clutching my shoulder, my jacket bunching up in her fist. Her eyes were large and shiny.
"I don't wanna go. Please."
I patted her hand, "S'alright, Beth."
She didn't let go.
She didn't let go until the end.
Beth screamed while it dragged her away. We looked at our feet while it happened, our faces stony. She shook me like a ragdoll until it ripped her off her arm, blood arcing, splattering over
vinyl seats and plastic passengers. My ears rang from her screams and my heart thudded in my thin chest. I learned not to breathe past the 60 second mark (an achievement, what with my asthma). 60 seconds. That was all the time it took.
I tried not to pray to anyone or anything. Or even think. I just kept my eyes to my feet. And started counting from 60.
posted by The Devil's Little Helper at 2:45 AM
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