Devoted exclusively to the creative process. Here you will see photojournaling, poetry, prose, an occasional review--journaling or philosophical writing can be found on our other blogs. This is our attempt to use our imaginations. Enjoy!

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Death becomes you, part IV

Oh boy...

I waited. And waited. Come on, stop staring at me and just scream. Shout, alarm alarm, the prisoner's escaping. I was trying to escape and the first door I open, I'm caught.

Or am I?

She was sitting on a wooden bench that was probably made 30 years ago, and in her hands she held two hand-puppets, one male and one female, that were facing each other and nodding ocassionally, besides doing nothing else. She was wearing an evening dress, the colour of tortoise shell, and her eyes were covered with sunglasses, so I had no fucking idea what she was thinking, if she was thinking at all. I could make all this out out because in one corner of the room, which was little more than the size of a closet, burnt a candle. I'd never seen her before and I had no idea who she was, friend or foe.

But it looked like she wasn't gonna raise any alarm. So I walked out and closed the door.

Let me try the next door...


Cocaine Jesus said...

c'mon, open that door. what on earth is waiting?

Prmod Bafna said...

seriously! I'm curious too :p