Author: LabyrinthFlux

-They sit across the table from each other. The white linen cloth stretching between them. Their plates have been emptied. Small talk has filled the space. They’ve reached a type of impasse. They’ve discussed the weather, their day, the silly thing that coworker does, the annoying habit of which the boss is unrelenting. The dinner plates have become round ceramic canvases. Their forks and spoons have spread the remaining oil and sauce about, creating different abstractions. Silence is a response. They know this. She continues the clinking of the silverware to fill the space. She smiles. “You know?” she says. […]

-It was a cafe near La Seine. It was a dream. He woke in the middle of the night on many nights from this same dream. He would sit in the cold stillness. He could only remember that it was La Seine, a cafe, a dream, and he was waiting. In the dream, he was always waiting. Not waiting in the way that Vladimir and Estragon were waiting, but the way you do when you know the appointment will change your life irrevocably. He had never been to a French restaurant, let alone France. The dream didn’t care. It introduced […]

-He steps out and sinks instantly. He didn’t believe it would, or that he could anyhow. So he retreats, taking two steps back. He stands there and looks at the blue sky, inhaling the crisp scent of nature. He tightens his fist. The metallic shape digs into his skin and he can feel the sharp edges. He looks out and is transfixed by the dancing shifting light on the surface. It is a surface. If light can dance on it, he can walk on it, he thinks. A bird cries and shatters his thoughts, as it swoops down between the […]

– He woke up groggy. There was silence. The room was still. Beneath him, sheets like those he’d been accustomed to for far too many years. These felt softer. He sat up. The windows had been moved. They no longer faced east-west. The morning light was dimmed, as a consequence. The room had four walls, but all other similarities to the room he fell asleep in ended there. He pushed himself off of the mattress and let his foot make its way over the edge and onto the floor. Making contact he froze. There was a comfort in the soft […]

-I woke this morning to a cascade of pronouns, personal and impersonal, falling against the window. It doesn’t usually rain this time of year, and least of all in “I’s” “me’s” “she’s” “her’s” and “one’s” but upon rousing to the syllabic tapping at my window and looking out into the darkened sky and its heavy vowels, I could not doubt the downpour. It is usually more morose and heavier, cascading the amorphous morphemes which affect the soul. But it was light today. Perhaps a sign of the divine imparting more than emotion. Identity also. In the puddles beneath the window, […]

– As he brings the rock down on the rabbit’s head, he thinks about the story of Isaac and Abraham. His father had told him the story. It had to do with giving back to God the gifts he gave us, in sacrifice. In the story, God doesn’t take it back, instead he provides the sacrifice and is pleased with the heart of Abraham. He holds the bloodied stone above the fractured skull, and watches the body spasm as the muscles suffocate. He wonders what kind of heart he would have to have to please God. He wonders if his […]

– She walks. Away from her house, she places each step. It is her steps which become most real. She focuses on each step. The imprint on the earth each leaves and the way once left behind, the breeze erodes the perfect outline. She has moved on by the time her footprints are no longer what she left, however. Her attention is on the next step. There is no count. There is no distance. There is nothing real, except each new step. She walks. Through a dozen lifetimes, she takes steps. She never leaves the moment. Each new step. She […]

– I stand at the edge of the world. One hundred thirty-five stories up. At the precipice. My feet at the edge; my body on the ledge. Everything shrinks below and every wind sweeps up. The top of my head is pressed by a thousand worries. Here, there is no looking back. I step forward and allow my weight to lead. There is no in between. I fall through the remnants of purgatory, that city never finished below the clouds. Through that thin layer of the atmosphere, where pixie dust and magic dust become most potent. Through the watery reservoirs […]