14 September 2010

Excerpt- "Meg"

This is an excerpt from a story I've been working on for some time now. I've grown to adore and revere the short story, and have desired and endeavored (so far, in vain) to create one. This is the dream sequence that comes just before the end.
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     All around her wheat is growing, so tall. The tips of the stalks just touch the pool of golden light above her, making ripples there. A stalk quivers, rattling- a little man appears. Tentatively, he peeks at her. She is okay, she is like him, and he goes skipping and dancing, skipping and dancing on his way to see the man. Now more stalks are quivering, rattling, producing more little people. Hesitant steps quickly become leaps and cartwheels, and they are all off, skipping and dancing on their way to see the man.

     Her face is the whole sun and the whole air is wheat, and feet aflight, arms spread and eyes closed she hops and spins through the amber light on her way to see the man. She stops. Eyes open, she sees the wheat has, shrunk. But no, something, like a pebble hitting her ankle, she feels, looking down, it is a little man. He dusts himself off and hurries back on his way to see the man. She's big. She looks around. At her feet hundreds of little people skip and dance on their way to see the man. She steps back, back, back, she runs back to where she was beneath the wheat. The wheat rises above her, and, back to her starting size, she stops. She takes a few steps forward, she grows a few centimeters. No. She will outrun it. Eyes closed, feet pounding, she runs as fast as she can, legs burning, heart pumping, on her way to see the man.

     Her breath's a roar, now all around her, and it is the sea. The man is there in his rainbow sombrero and painted on eyebrows and mustache, thick and black. The little people are in a line, chatter rattling, waiting for the man to tie one of his balloons to one of their legs and send them up over the sea, and they giggle and wave from up high filling the sky with hundreds of shining balloons. It is her turn, she smiles, so wide, for the man has a candy pink balloon. He looks up at her.

     “Look, giant, none of my balloons are big enough to float you over the ocean. Find some other way across, and in the the mean time step aside so I can tie these little guys to their balloons,” he says. 

     She tries, but please, to ask again, maybe he could just give her two or three? but the man only gives her a wave of his hand as he's already bending to tie the next little man to his balloon. She moves into the sea. Overhead the little men make all the sky a celebration. Although she is huge, the tide overtakes her. She struggles in the knot of waves which threaten to consume her.

     Red. Rises and seeps into the sky, until no sea, no sky, explosive red is only, a volume erupting at the base of her skull which is infinity because she too becomes the redness which is everything.


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