Tuesday Evening

Cloud covers the sky
Sky’s over the Earth
Hoping for the rain
Kafka steals the mirth.



The Chill

That’s where it’s at
Never scene a bleaker street
Never seen a bleak so sweet
That you can feel
Feel the shush and the hum
Resonating, resonating in your lungs;
In your bones.
Resonating, resonating in the…
Beautiful, is what it was.
Simply, breathtakingly, beautiful.
But then one thinks to write it down
and all is lost
– in thought.
In all its faults
And all its faults,


Photo courtesy of: #ToyPhotographer

Word: Grim

Grim. That’s the only word I can use to describe it. Grim. I grit my teeth and try to mask the disgust I feel starting to show on my face. My once soft, feminine features have been hardened by the grim realities of this time. I do what I can but there is just so much I can do and no more. How can one little half-woman save the world?

As I hear the high pitched scream of a pre-pubescent child, not more than 10 years old, I am forced out of my mind and back to the present. “It is none of my business,” I tell myself. “This has nothing to do with me. Walk away Aeither, this is not your fight.” But whose fight was it, that of a 10 year old child?

I grit my teeth and rush toward the sound of the screams. “No! PLEASE!” It was the voice of a little girl. “Aow.” She started crying. You could hear the tears in her pleas for whomever to stop. I rounded the corner to find complete darkness, and the silhouette of the monster of a man leaning over a little thing in the corner.

“Hey!” I shouted, “What the fuck is going on here?” There was no response. I strained my eyes to see something, to determine if this was some sort of lure or trap. The criminals of this age are crafty and conniving little shits, setting traps for idiots like me. With caution, I continued to move closer. “Did you hear me you fucking piece of shit?!” What was I saying? I didn’t even have a weapon. The child screamed anew, “Help! Please…!” She was pleading between her tears.

With that I ran forward again, it seemed like miles. The monster barely even stopped to look up at me. I finally got to within feet of them after what seemed like too long, and grabbed the man by his collar, intending to pull him back. He barely budged. Finally he stopped to look up at me. His face had several small scratches, where the child had tried to defend herself.

“Nutten yah suh nuh concern yuh, gwaan bout yuh bizniz.” Like fucking hell it doesn’t. I was only about a foot and a half from him, who was still bent over the child. I looked down at her and thought she looked far younger than 10. Her hair was done in cornrows and reached the top of her shoulders, her clothes were torn almost to shreds, face stained with tears, pulling her knees up to try and protect herself.

“Like fucking hell it doesn’t!” Looking around, I realised that this was a construction site, for a new house it seemed. Concrete blocks, bars of wood and various other construction things were laying around. I grabbed a nearby block of wood and swung it at him, breaking it over his back. This only seemed to make him angry, but at least it got his attention away from the child and onto me. Which wasn’t exactly a good thing, because when he stood up to his full height, it was like Gandhi facing Shaq. The fuck did I get myself into?! Fucking screaming children! For a moment, I contemplated whether I even liked children, and whether I shouldn’t have just gone on my merry way home to rewatch the Big Bang Theory again. Too late for that now.

Shaqzilla pulled a knife and came at me. “Why do I keep getting myself into this shit,” I said to myself as I slowly began to back up and out of the dark. I miscalculated my direction and ended up with a wall to my back.

“Yuh naav noweh fi go now,” Shaqzilla said, grinning. He disgusted me. I looked up at him bent over to be closer to my height, and saw him preparing to swing the knife at me. His face was far too close and I couldn’t smell any alcohol on his breath. The piece of shit was just doing it because he liked it!

At the last moment, I ducked and ran between his wide open legs, and swung the other piece of the wooden block against the back of his left knee. As he buckled, I whacked him on the head as hard as I possibly could. He shook his head and was turning around when I whacked him again, this time in the face, right on the nose. The block broke again in half, too short to be of anymore use.

His scream was the most horrifying sound I’d ever heard come from a human being, which perhaps he really wasn’t. As blood gushed from his clearly broken nose, I thought for a moment about getting the child and running. But then I wondered what he’d be doing tomorrow night, or the night after that. Looking around again, I saw a pile of blocks nearby. Fuck what the humanists say, screw the law! Some things don’t deserve to live, not even in prison. Even Siberia was too good for this scum.

In the direction of the child I said, “Look away and put your finger in your ears,” not checking that she complied. I took up the closest concrete block, and slammed it on his head as hard as I could. It was strange how long he took to look about his nose instead of attempting to get rid of me. I remembered the rules the protagonist used to stay alive during the zombie apocolypse in the movie Zombie Land: double tap.  I hit him once more on the head, and then another time just for insurance.

As I looked down at him, I realised that just as with every other thing, monsters don’t look so scary when they’re dead, they just look dead. It was my first time killing a man, but I felt nothing. Grim fucking world we’re living in.

Now the only question was, what the fuck am I gonna do with this kid?