October 09, 2003fallout [dream]the sun was falling.
climbing out of my office window onto the porch roof we picnic'd the last minutes of the day away. my wife and i watching the sky fade from purple to black above the nephilim fields stretching up the hill behind our house, stars burning embers in the darkness, not even the moon to delegate offset glow. there was something mystical about it. something like warm velvet. no. suede. a lifelike quality that bled a reason of warmth into the very air itself.
dawn began on the horizon. a dozen shades of fire pushing away the deep indigos on the first few inches of the sky. wind made the wheat grasses ripple reflective gold across the prarie.
to the right a star raced towards the darkest midnight, repelled from the earth rather than drawn towards the terran grave. then it exploded sonic silence.
i looked to my wife. the rocket just exploded. we should probably get inside. not before watching the cascade of brilliance meandering towards the call of gravity. oh, how it reflected in the flute of champagne. captivating.
back through the now curtained window. the flimsy drapes tickled and clung, pulling apart to threadbare strings with each passing movement. we had to move around the antiques stored in the attic. eons of dust collected on ancient furniture during the handful of moments we were outside. everything i owned was no longer there, yet i could recognize my dad's army trunk buried amongst the ruinous remains of another life. how strange.
downstairs. steps muted on thick carpet.
an hour passed.
then it began to... rain? a fog rolled in of sulpherous dust. first it was only snowfall flurries. then the fence was coated in a fine misted layer of ochre. nuclear fallout. the windows began to crystalize. we should probably take cover. she looked for something to help. i handed her a wet bandana to hold over her mouth as we rushed upstairs, boots clattering on the naked wood. i tripped over the army trunk in the middle of the floor. bitch
my closet had turned into a bunker.
the cats were nowhere to be found, but there was another small creature up in the attic, back in the shadows. it was snoogans. no. it was a fox. no.... it.... was snoogans. both? on the left it was my dog. on the right it was a red fox who's colors shifted incandescent with each breath to melt from red to blond. she had puppies. we gathered them all and pulled them into the closet with us and the world was suddenly gone.
no feeling. no sound. no scent. no sight. absolutely nothing.
time passed. an hour? a day? a month?
the trapdoor pushed open, slowly. looking around, past the folds of the still damp bandana, i realized what a mess things were. everything had a thick layer of yellow dust (fallout) on it. fingers spread along the top of the army trunk, spidering a flying buttress to the cathedral tower of my wrist, supporting the meadering trails drug through the powder. the fox/dachshund trotted around the corner and down the stairs. i don't know where her puppies went. i had to clean this up before my mother came over.
i grabbed the dustbuster.
Posted by Wolf at October 09, 2003 01:34 AM
CommentsPost a comment