Sunday, November 11, 2007


When it heard the tractors approaching, it knew it had run out of places to hide. The forest had been dwindling, as the city spilled and grew. The lights from buildings now made the stars hard to see, and the friends he had in the night sky could no longer converse with him. It drank from the stream and considered its actions. The water was already tasting of poisons and rust, and dead fish floated atop. The unicorn shook its head. There was already a tractor approaching. It turned around and saw the large yellow scoop. It stepped back, then charged forward. The machine continued forward, gaining speed.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

121st Day

Over the shortwave radio we were told, we would have to wait. They are creatures, we were told. They need to eat. Without nothing to sustain them, they will fall. We did our best to observe, and it was true. They wasted away. By the 63rd day, they were attacking each other. I went outside and shot all those that I knew. The boys that laughed at me from the schoolground, the girls who made fun of me behind my back, the teachers that flunked me. The school principal I trapped down a well and burnt with fuel oil. He smelled like burning pork. As their movements became lethargic they became easier to pick off, and soon we were finding some that died. There were only four of us in our 'outpost', as they were called, and at times I wanted to kill the others, but I kept away. Winter came, and they were dying. It was estimated the virus had claimed about 99.9%, which meant it still left about 10 million of us. My mother thought actually that would be all right, as long as it spared her friends and the actor she liked on a TV soap.

When we reemerged, we wondered if we had been spared. We burnt whatever corpses we came across, and started our journey to rejoin the others. But I knew we would always be looking over our shoulder, waiting for the screaming mouth, the chattering teeth, the ones that just wanted to tear us, and eat us.

Thursday, November 1, 2007


I wait in the cave, sucking on lichen, drinking water from dirty pools. The snakes writhe and drip poison, and my thoughts are made evil by their venom. I remember my life before this; walking amongst a field of flowers, sipping clear water from spring, praying in Athena's temple. And then, when he arose out of the sea, mighty and wanton, and I stood there as the priestesses ran. He came for me, reaching for my flesh, and took me while all around me they watched. The water from his hair dripped on my face, and his laughter was unceasing as he rammed into me again and again. My friends who I had come to the temple with were frozen in place. How does one deny a God? I was powerless, and when he was done, he threw me to the ground.
Laughing, he went back to the water, and descended beneath the waves. Then I felt my hair knitting together. All around me, those who had stood frozen were not encased in stone. My eyes darted around me, and I saw the serpents. I thought snakes had fallen onto my hair, but as I tried to pull them and felt pain, I knew the truth. My hair, one of the most admired in Athens, was transformed into snakes. I fled the temple, and those who did look upon me were encased in stone. I took the boat of a blind fisherman, and was placed upon an island where no one resided. There I lived, seething in hate, unable to face or love anyone. My hate grew, but what could I do? I could only look upon the mocking waves, when I did dare to step near the beach. My face has been left intact, but I do not dare stare into the still pools to see my reflection. Now I await for the one who would slay me. All who have tried so far stand around me; figures of grey stone. I touch them, I talk to them, but they can never reply me. In fits of anger I pick up a rock and try to smash them apart. One day I know there will be one who succeeds in slaying me. I am merely a challenge, an obstacle, an aberration. Once the Sea God entered me, I knew I no longer had my own destiny, and was trapped in another's fate.