This must be connected with the renovation prompt, right? You came in and discovered that they'd sledgehammered your chair? Your desk? Or just that while renovating they'd discovered where you hide all the information you use to blackmail them into making the right decisions...?
Absence A gull flies low over Blasted heathland on the edge of the Saltmarshes. A smell of rotting Eels hangs on the air. With care, the Nanny pushes the child's chair across Chipped and damaged planks towards Exmouth Island.
Men gather there, waiting, Eyes watching the clouds swirl Above and the hands on their watches. Nanny arrives, slightly out of breath, Slightly uneasy.
"Miss, over there." A man points Impatiently to an obvious Space: an absence where the child Should be. The Nanny hurries; the storm Is drawing in now and lightning will soon fall. No sooner has she reached the space, the place, than Grey rain lashes the crowd and lightning strikes.
Years of lack, of want, of longing are Overturned by this sacrifice to the gods of the Unfillable Void.
Greg - hah, not quite. Though I will admit I wouldn't mind terribly if they had sledgehammered my current desk...
Eerie and beautifully done. Didn't even notice the acrostic until the very end, at which point I had to go back and read it again and fully appreciate what you'd done.
2 comments:
This must be connected with the renovation prompt, right? You came in and discovered that they'd sledgehammered your chair? Your desk? Or just that while renovating they'd discovered where you hide all the information you use to blackmail them into making the right decisions...?
Absence
A gull flies low over
Blasted heathland on the edge of the
Saltmarshes. A smell of rotting
Eels hangs on the air. With care, the
Nanny pushes the child's chair across
Chipped and damaged planks towards
Exmouth Island.
Men gather there, waiting,
Eyes watching the clouds swirl
Above and the hands on their watches.
Nanny arrives, slightly out of breath,
Slightly uneasy.
"Miss, over there." A man points
Impatiently to an obvious
Space: an absence where the child
Should be. The Nanny hurries; the storm
Is drawing in now and lightning will soon fall.
No sooner has she reached the space, the place, than
Grey rain lashes the crowd and lightning strikes.
Years of lack, of want, of longing are
Overturned by this sacrifice to the gods of the
Unfillable Void.
Greg - hah, not quite. Though I will admit I wouldn't mind terribly if they had sledgehammered my current desk...
Eerie and beautifully done. Didn't even notice the acrostic until the very end, at which point I had to go back and read it again and fully appreciate what you'd done.
Post a Comment