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Charred, the leaves fell from what seemed like thin air. The Oxen’s fire dissipates, and the beasts themselves are now out of sight and ear. This was often the case with these creatures; one would likely hear them long before they were spotted, in spite of their immense size, a testament to their thunderous roars and groans.



A small boy is sat in the middle of the road, with remains of smoking plant life sprinkled atop his head. Dumbfounded, the boy stares straight ahead and responds to nothing. An older girl rushes over and brushed the embers from his hair, pulls him to his feet and out of the road.



Military planes scream by, much too late yet again. Lumbering giants or not, they vanish long before anyone could make any form of organized response to the apparitions. Religious zealots yell condescending remarks in the wake of the planes, mocking their arrogance in attempting to force themselves upon living gods. Chants and crying abound.



Far up in the clouds, in the executive suites of the tallest skyscraper, someone in a dark smooth suit stands glued to the window. The glass is warm and moist, but not on the inside. Warm air was blown upon it from a massive nostril. The shaking and clattering skeleton in the suit was a business man once, but no more. He has been reduced to a street-dwelling toga-wearing song-singer in a matter of seconds by seeing something impossible. The mind could not compute. The economy be damned.



People forget things. They forget to work, to eat, to breathe.

Nobody speaks of anything else anymore.

Asphalt is split apart and shattered by monstrous footprints.



Still far away, among the mountains, there rebounds the sound of bleating.

COMMENTS

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Joli
23:24 Feb 23 2009

I want to hike through your brain for a while, camping along the way...slowly moving across the landscape so that I miss nothing.

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CTyler
23:33 Feb 23 2009

One man's mind is another's hell, has always been my thought.



...hm.

Not to say there is nothing of interest to be found in hell, quite the contrary.



You can probably guess my favourite work of William Blake now.. :P

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Joli
23:39 Feb 23 2009

In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.

Drive your cart and your plow over the bones of the dead.

The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.



How'd I do? I like to think I have SOME insight into my friends hearts and minds.

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CTyler
23:43 Feb 23 2009

Right on the money, of course.

You know me quite well...

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Joli
01:31 Oct 27 2024

I did. Bittersweet passage of time.

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