Crumbling pie crust


SONY DSC

Chapter: Waning in the crescent (5)

Time: Ante meridiem.

Location: Third Eye

:: Back from space ::

“Swear I missed your face”

Physical matter isn’t the only substance which decays over continuing moments, for, her face still remained lustrous, but her mind, and soul were apocryphal, an ultimately up for debate. Her smile was smashed under indigo lips, her eyes fought the lids and saline streams to remain oval shaped. Her brows hung tense as to not slip off the cliff of face; she remained silent, sitting on that steel chair.

“Why do you do this to that boy?” said Phixna’s mother Equia Psidel, who stood two inches taller than her seed, and two and a half shades of melanin darker. Her hair, that of black wool, spiraling on her dome like galaxies bored within the vacuum of space. The light in her left eye remained absent like the delinquents, who figured out the agenda of High School, really being a covert conditioning jail, and decided to play hookey instead of improving their grades, and attendance.

“.. ……”

Her mother has always remained soft spoken in burning buildings, so it was a walk in the canine park, when she was showered with Phxina’s silence; she continued..

“Well, it wasn’t not rhetorical, however, you need to cease the pretending. You love him, yet, so many others have opened pen caps to autograph your galaxy….it’s time that…”

“I KNOW!”

The words skidded off the glacier in little Phxina’s throat, sharply..

“I know! – I just…he loves, and… loves well, just…me, it’s me, and he knows this! I..know this..”

Equia shattered a smile, at her perplexed offspring. She landed her elbows, and clasped her hands on the kitchen counter, then spoke with sweet lips

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, especially the things that you don’t need to do. Figure this through for your well being.”

The words vibrated through Phixna’s skull, and she found herSelf swirling in the blood of reality, and down the drain of the lowest dimension.
As with all mothers, MaMa Psidel had already mapped out the directions of her daughter’s microexpressions, and kept the notes in her cigarette pocket.

“I’ll leave you to your surroundings little one” said Equia, as she departed the room with thin eyes, and a smile you could use for a windshield wiper.

Now began the echoing of words..
Since she had already hollowed out her mind for the man she loved, her cranium became a cave for the voices, and past moments she stored away. Her most treasured memories lay in maple chests, sprinkled with thought-algae, and remained locked for, she couldn’t, and most importantly, didn’t want to make a key to unlock such poetry. The most soiled memories however, flew violently throughout, like disturbed bats concerned over some ultrasonic frequency….that nobody else but them heard. She heard it.
Her arms dripped down the sides of her chair like candle wax, as she leaned back and looked towards the ceiling. Blank, and white, yet the back of the roof contained more colour, and excitment than her soul at this point; she decided to relocate. She scrapped her waxy arms off the chair, and began to walk to the living room which  seemed more like a mirage, due to all the obese tears which were too stubborn to just

let..

go.

She fell on the floor.

And out of triple stage darkness, a voice leaked out “I know you’re very romantic, but I’m sure the tiles get enough love from the shoes of other people.”

Felt as if the words were mixed together with almond milk, placed in a funnel, and gently poured down her left ear. She opened two of the seven holes in her face, felt the side of her head, and dragged her middle finger from the corner of her salt crusted eye, down to her chin. She sat up with her left hand grasping her opposite shoulder, and refocused her optics to the being who stood above her.

Looming over her like a stalking willow, wearing a mask that resembled the face of a Manatee, words bubbled out with a lazy tone “My..my.. ya sure have fun dancing with despair” said Sfraz Psidel, the older brother who seemed to only step, where shadows would relax. He was near the height to be considered freakishly tall, shined the same complexion as her, and was fitted with the same eyes, which they both adopted from Daddy. He kept the hair on his face and head to a minimum, maybe he wanted to suppress the antennas, no frequency needed- he had other things on his mind.

He looked at her again, with soft box eyes, and grinned

 “Where’s your mind at?”

“I don’t care where my mind is.”

“k-hehaa! I don’t buy that.”

“I’m not selling you shit.”

“Ya-ahahaah! That’s the little punk of a sibling I know. Well listen, go take a shower, and flush whatever thoughts are going on in your head. Oh, and, I don’t think passing out on the floor would sit well with Mom’s heart, y’know? So..ahhhh….. don’t do that anymore. Okay ugly?”

“Good bye Sfraz…” she said, as she dragged the vibrations across her vocal cords.

He looked at her again, this time with a bigger smile

“Yo, yo! Chin up little lady, there’s a lot of fun things to get lost in. Go to the city man, hang out with your so called friends, get your mind off filth; definitely take that shower though”

“Y…eah..”  Her response became even more distant.

[I wonder if you know who, is doing you know what, to her . hmm…] her brother thought to himself..whilst simultaneously feeling nostalgia, swirl it’s warm tongue across his collar bone. He had wished that his past manifestations wouldn’t have dawned on the smaller mouse, whom he called sister. Perhaps his wishes went unanswered. He decided it be best to not step out of character, and be too caring, that would probably send Phxina into shock, and confusing at this point. Sfraz put his mask back over his face.

“Well, I’m going to go do whatever it is, that I always seem to be doing. Be well sissy”..

..and once again, Phxina was left with a trailing, and departing voice. The shower seemed like a perfect idea, and maybe going out into the thickness of a light polluted city, would bring her stability back.

[Ajuourn…where are you, where are you?!] the last thoughts of her lover, who seemed to have vanished from her universe…and for once, she twisted the shower knob,without caring to adjust the temperature….she needed to adjust to Self first.

Gone….gone….gone….my little flower…grow.

 

-Richí

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About Oil Underneath

I drink glasses of cold water.
This entry was posted in Emissivity, Short Stories. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Crumbling pie crust

  1. Suprian says:

    A very lovely read, thank you for sharing.

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