February 28, 2012 § 6 Comments
She started the slow, practiced walk back east, eyes glancing at the screen to her left.
The pipes spewed forth their flames, like lava ghosts. The air was so hot, her body had adapted, her black shell growing smooth and fitted till the lines between it and her skin were impossible to find.
Her noises were mostly buried and sometimes heard and described as cat like growls and an angelic soprano. Her face moved swiftly and no one could exactly describe the shape of her chin, her lips and eyes, more just a suggestion of elusive beauty and an elegantly concealed warning: You don’t want to see my face.
Lastly, there was the mark on her back. Her rank and species were indicated, along with the name of her Sky-Mother. The creeping fathers got no credit, their mostly reptilian characteristics limiting them to twice monthly jaunts to impregnate a different female in the dead of the night.
Reaching the end of the beam, she swung out and around the outer beam, fearless. She had to shake it up.
Flashed across the screen…
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
She let go one of her noises, seemingly timed perfectly with another flash from the pipes. Her forked tongue flicked out, judging the temperature and adjusted her position.
Perfectly balanced, life filled with poise and air filled with heat and bite.