I tried to follow her.
Well, no, I tried to catch up to her.
I first saw her in a downtown bar, but she wasn’t typical.
I was sitting in a corner…trying harder to look like a struggling writer in a bar than actually trying to write. I looked up to survey if anyone had noticed me, and instead I noticed her.
She had cold air hooked into her like a fog machine, and she ordered two shots of tequila, an american beer, and downed all three as if she was on stage at a talent show.
She paid in crumpled cash and rattled change, twisting and stomping out of the place like a bass note.
As soon as she left, I felt her absence choking me. I pushed my papers together, fumbled with my worn leather wallet, threw way more than enough money down and blundered after her…elephants chasing moths.
She was a mote in the distance, the tracks framing her perfectly in my memory.
I tried to catch up, but I knew there was no catching her.
You either ran on her time or not at all.
I wonder if she lives on those tracks….or if they’re only a way home.
They smelled the air carefully.
The scales had tipped and he had done it, he had finally done it.
They eyed him with curiosity and patience as he fell, gasping and retching against the brick of the alleyway. His arms still continued to thrum with energy, although now there was a dull ache forming in the wrist. Desperately scraping nail-and-skin against stone, he drags his screaming neurons further from the body laying in all manners of fluid behind him.
Shuddering & spasming, he turns the corner…never once aware of his surroundings. They pull him down to the ground like magnets on iron.
Wrapping long, slender, inhuman fingers around his body.
His skin is melting, blisterless, wet & putrid.
The night sky remains silent.