the tree and the dust chapter 11

Chapter 11
The littlest clam, sat in the tiny pool of filth and bathed in frozen acids, while it’s fingers stretched for kilometers across the room’s ship, the ship’s breaths, with an invisible touch it watched the world and spoke to it’s machines, who watched the human child, trapped within a snowglode world, turned over and over, shaken, to blizzard~
Where~
The Mother caressed her downy hair, with claw like fingers, woven of soft foam glass, muttering, in the language of human, while the captured infant burned and struggled against the tit, cried and wailed, even as the machine intelligence buried within her brain, planned and thought, experiment, squelching commands at the mother, every second, every micro second~ build shelter, create fire, ponder combustible, food, suit ? Space suit !
The intelligence hidden within the child, Sarrow, whispered and screamed, Kill the child, euthanize, abort, the surrounding environment possessed vast hurdle of insurmountable variables, this child can’t survive here, poking into the Mothers cobalt innards, stabbing, knifing, surgically lifting the veils of this creations charms
Found the tendrils, laced and buried leading to the vast mega ship world, and trailed down to the Verigee, the little bivalve bathed in ice, in absolute zero liquid spools, an icy micro intelligence,
Sarrow’s Assistant, backed away and left no trails, sliding sideways, back to the mother, I know where we are, Sarrow, this is a prison, a laboratory, or zoo, a space ship~ you can’t survive here,
And the babies brain, which couldn’t organize the motor control to manipulate it’s own hands, closed her eyes and looked within~
This artificial Mother will protect us~
We can trust it
Tell it to pull us in, rebuild it, I’m so hungry~
So while Sarrow suckled and ate, a broth of lactate, her enhanced brain probed the mother for some protocol to survival, against the snow, ice and wind, which was this world they’d all been thrown upon

While the Mother accepted the assistance intelligence, latched on through lips, to fibrous frozen mechanics, and the Assistant crawled inside the mother with one slow prodding pathway, and changed them both into other

Slow the babies time, creep the metabolism down to hibernation, and build an environment into which it can survive, searching other’s memories, searching the air the wind the ground the sky for some raw material, some material, some fiber, some source for warmth, a space suit, a thermal blanket, internal combustion, the sun, a star, a fire~

Nothing, a nothing world of cold icy rock

When she tastes it~ the minute, but vast flavor of bacteria. . .

the tree and the dust chapter 10

Chapter 10

After the battle had blown by, and the ground stopped trembling, the velveteen robot stood over the incredibly old man and watched him, undie. . .the thin blade impaled in the chest the head flopped back over the shoulder, laying in the wickets, two hands folded over stomach, golden thick curdled blood drenched
I could leave you here now, and end this story let the world fall back to bugs and sticks give you up to your make believe everything~ this cyclical monotony could pass
As the robot chirped, it’s hands pulled the thin blade from out flesh, pulling slowly, with uncertainty, wiping the blade as withdrawn, the tip falls out with a impudent ejaculation, the robot holds the blade before its own glittering jewel eyes and sheaths it on it’s hip.

I’m going to walk away now Dosh

"Ah, but you can’t my friend, your feet are already my feet" and the robot looks down and is surprised to see it’s very own feet pulling themselves up like socks over incredibly old feet
The velveteen robot drops onto it’s knees onto the old mans knees and lays on top of him as a blanket, a sweater, a quilted lover, and slowly sinks into Dosh, to ride upon his flesh, as uniform, spacesuit, menaced lover

"Follow the girl," the incredibly old man named Dosh says, hidden within a grey wall of suit~ and another velveteen robot steps out of the reeds and runs to catch up with the group running across the ice, under black testicle skies
We can’t follow the girl, the robots speaks, we can’t follow the girl within the suit
"Why ?" The old man screams, struggling to his feet, "why can’t we follow the girl. Why ? "

Because twenty minutes ago. . .

The girl within the suit, watches the blood vomit and tears pearl up, bead and roll off of her black clad lap
All she’d ever wanted to do was be inside a suit, to be immortal, to fly between the blackness of nights pinpricked stars, to breath vacuum, to drink the flesh and eat the fluid, but most importantly all she’d ever been trained to do, was wear this suit and get back home. . .

A home encapsulated in ice, frozen solid to the magma, a system suspended in time, locked away, the sun enveloped, enshrouded, like a jewel so intricately formed and framed in filigree as to be caged, locked away behind a wall of blackness so silver, a dam of light perched infinity behind, plunging eight or twelve planets into a frozen exile, away from life, the blackness so complete, that the stars slice thin scratches across the frozen face like a whisper, vapors vast ease off, as the atmosphere slowly sinks to settle below the hill tops to roll across the ice flow flawed waves, pushed against brittle beaches sanded polish. . .

A home frozen to death and guarded, surrounded by micro worlds of weapon, a halo, hidden beneath the dust of stars. . .

"Which way to the ship," she asks, the robot to her right, then to her left, "we have to hurry, which way, which way ? "

And the suit rumbles an answer into her very own throat, "there is no ship, you saw our ship exploded, enfire, smoldering, you must ask questions, only if the answer is unknown to you, these creatures will grow dull and leave you. . ."

"How do we get off this world then, suit, this is not our home,"
"And I, girl, am no human~ and you, girl, know the only way off of this planet"

"My people ! Won’t let this suit on board, my people won’t believe I am who I say, I am with the dead, to my. . ."

"Family, I know, and you know the only way off the planet then, take their ship from them, we only need to get into orbit, you can give it back, "

"My family wont let us take it, or give it back, they’ll have to defend the ship, I could take off the suit, and board. . ."
"You can not take off a suit, that says, no."
And the baby squirms beneath the folds of uniform and roots. And the girl frowns and adjusts, watches a snowfleck
"Run with me then, robots, how fast can I run suit ? she bites her lips and sprints toward her people




A vast pastoral universe stretching out from eye holes forever in every direction an endless black sea, waveless, calm and serene, mindless, morose flat without form the color of nothing, the form of often~
Looking at it makes my face hurt and ages one about the eye, weakens the bone, dulls the teeth sticks pin holes in the flesh, burned traces of tears of acid
The vastness of black eel grasses, under foot~ you could walk forever, die and be reborn to walk forever and repeat~ forever and never ever arrive anywhere because it is all nothing full of nothing but black swirling matter invisible to living beings, punctuated by small flecks of startling white stars, nameless, lost forgotten, a drift above the heads of dreamers.

They made the ships fly away,
There are no fleets, nobody could ever afford a fleet~ to what end would a fleet serve, there is no one to fight, this is not the sea of old histories hysterical overpopulated city states and aggressive children of god, this is a grown up space, with nothing but vastness
There is no where to go, but to go, we live between the stars, off worlders, the drifting elite, within the sphere and forested home we ourselves have formed, woven from our technologies womb,
If there is a planet, it is either dead or lifeless, or full of already evolved monsters
Humanity is hunted, haunted and hated

We have become monsters
We have always been monsters


Somebody else beat us to the name human, took away our rights, captured our homeland, ran across the stars, and told us to die, we trespass, on the very ground we emerged from, so we changed, we simply became !

this girl within this suit

which carries the stink of old

ah, Dosh, how did you get so old ? she whispers, a hushed sigh of exhaust, a gaseous mix recycled back to her chewed upon lips, moving around the name

Dosh. . .

the tree and the dust chapter 9

http://blownbrown.blogspot.com/2010/03/dead-have-faces-automobiles.html

new van related post over at blownbrown




Chapter 9

The Ecoraseur anti-evolution ship, sat in a puddle of it’s own filth ~an atmosphere of ruined ships, worlds, satellites, men, bodies, globules of water, blood, piss, whole swirling menagerie of things once broken, set enflame, ripped across the sky, like a black shit, a blunt two edged knife, battle scarred, bent, ruptured, mangled and falling apart, flat black against the night, all nights, with twin lightning bolt insignias, flashing in neon crack, wings, engine, pods antennae, huge trailing globes, like chains, sparkling in starlight, thundering motor roar, sub arc, doppled explosions of atmospheric tears
Within, this great deathly destroyer, slightly wavering, at the very rubicon of demise, three men like things stand in perfect yellow spot light, one tapping a foot, one crossing and uncrossing thick uniformed arms, the third, rubbing it’s face,
Ghouls, in tattered uniform, flesh like swamp primed meat, grey, sagging, checks pulling on brown clotted eyelids, hang open, pink with wet yellowed eye, stretched red weep
Helmets propped on shoulders, gutted, punctured, stained,
Around these three men like things, the deck, fizzled, popped and creaked, lights flickered on and off
We really must find something to destroy
The foot taper whispers and the other two turn their heads,
Yes, in agreement, they’d been sweeping this system for years of weeks, had killed millions of baby plankton but nothing more, nothing with any weight to it, nothing important had died at their ships command and they grew bored
I’m bored the face rubbing man, whines, lets go, lets go, we gotta roll out roll out.

While behind them seated on the black pitted decking a small clan of hominids huddled, and spoke a language three million years old which sounded like wind brushed off the back of starlings, like pebbles being slowly tumbled down creek beds, like swaying grasses against august’s combustible clouds~
"We should bury this dead crew~" the female hominid whispers, hands dancing towards her hair combed straight back and slick with color~
"Our ship is too slow to follow the Other~"
'This ship will infect us~ look at these humans, dead things on legs, their eyes blinded~ this ship, a museum of shit ~ I agree we should leave these creatures, but, only after~"

"We’ll follow you, from our homeships, we will join your hunt~" standing, the small clan speaks, stares at the backs of three greasy, crawly, scabbed out heads and necks wrinkled space suits, primitive, painted a faded green patina of arcane design and age. Who jump startled~
The display screens beyond, flickering, image racked, pop, and sizzle, blips and alerts,
The three men like things, decomposing, turn quickly then, like starving ballerina,
Your leaving, already, we could find you something to wear, we might have some more space suits, we’ll dig around, wait, have dinner with us~
The three men like things all let their eyes fall down in awe at the group of naked warriors, men and women, in paint and oils, hair perfectly combed back, muscles bulged over wide shoulders, brown skinned, thick boned, well hung, nipples like knives~ a beautiful people, calm, empty handed,
You came naked, and weaponless
Let us give you clothes and weapons~ you can stay in our gardens~
"We are born this way, we die this way, weapons are for the weak, a weapon will not save you~
Our ship wait’s the children must be feed~"
You will follow us then, yes, yes, we gotta go can you keep up, you have to tell us~ we don’t want to loose you~ you smell delicious
"We shall follow, this hunt is very important to us~" this collective is serious and the pack of hominids turns and flash, a few steps taken, a sidestep, a twist and they disappear
How do they do that ? One man says
How did they get on our ship ? Another ponders, running hands along control knobs
What people are they ? Are they us ?
While the great black splash carbon painted ship buckles beneath their feet and they stand on deck consulting with computation device, studying screen, grown dim, cobwebbed, watching feed of live action, empty halls, chambers, passage
I think they are still on board

But outside the greasy slick hull, the clan, crawls under Green leaf clam shell hatch, lays down and grabs a thick stalk like handle, nine hominids, on a bumpy stick, like a broom freshly carved and sewn, sweeps out and away, swirling, erratic, unseen, a blip than winks and is gone~

We’ll search the ship from beginning to end~ Try to find theirs, where could it float ?
We’ll use the Machine, if we have to~
Yeahs, we shall, the one who rubs the face says and thinks of the smells still wafting along the stagnant air like stratus, layers of life itself
The one who rubs his face, raises his head and turns, tries to smile, and uses a hand to push the flesh, the others at controls, brittle plastics, aged crumbled, drool, and look at vid and pix of haunted hallways, empty rooms, still pads and hangers, a ship full of ghosts, quietly looking for life
and now, invaded by animals~ who smell like flowers and creek beds, honey dew and blood~

yes, one has stayed behind~ the once man thinks turning to viewers plump with palimpsest smeared stars

THE TREE AND THE DUST chapter 8

Chapter 8


The mother tried to hold the inferno that was the child, held prey in frictionless arms of glass, the mother dusted in a fine sift of invisibility cradled the squirming human, the mother’s breast mechanically forced into the caldron of toothless mouth, while on the other side of the bubble, the monster sat. . . watched

Shielding it’s eyes from the radiant heat burning through the hull slip

In the black grey and pane soaked chamber the child glowed as a moon immersed in milk of burning magnesium
With every arm swing and leg kick casting giant weld light shadow
It’s very spooky in here the monster said to it’s guest, slowly being drained, who, would have guessed, something so hideous and freighting could be afraid
But the Measled Velligree, secretly closed it’s eyes, especially when the baby turned it’s massive face and screamed, with it’s eyes open, nostrils flare and such horrid white flesh with throbbing purple arteries map

I can’t stop looking~ I just can’t ~but it did ~this hotlife movement, with it’s bursts of speed and sudden directionless lunge, this jerky spasmodic muscular thrashing, electrically fortified with delight, every time this being moves the world tilts, is thrown off course with micro ship quake, how could such a race of beings become. . .
And the Proffestor, smiles a slimy unfolding, and envelopes it’s guest,
You have seen enough of my exterior, senor, the Measled Velligree mumbles with tooth, claw and tentacle laced about the sticky twig with eyes ears, noses and mouth, helplessly querying,
I had hoped to watch this human time line further. . .
Ah, yes, you may, but from within my cellular walls framed windows



One, two. . . And then three steps forward, the headless black suit stepped toward the naked shivering girl, held softly in place with blood soaked robot arms as snowflakes the size of diner plates fell like hats on to costumed children’s heads
One two three. . .four the suit opened itself up, vivisected, from groin to neck, revealing a slick pink fleshy insides, quilted warmth, evaporative, wound, gurgling,
I don’t want to put that suit on. . . The girl screams, steps back, trips and is held up, forced to stand, arms raked back, legs kicked wide, feet stepped upon, crushed into the snow pack souped with blood, carbon, black, yellow and squished fleshes,
I can’t put that thing on. . .
Her head rocks from side to side, saliva squirts across her rich black pelt,
One two three four. . .five, the suit turning itself inside out, reaches it’s arm holes out to her,
I can't put that thing on. . . She screams and the suit answers,
You, aren’t putting me on, I am putting you on.
With a spine chilling authorities’ command, she stops moving and is frozen, the robots hold her arms out in front of her as the suit slowly tentatively touches her finger tips, like a dog licking a wound, the girl completely immobilized can only watch as the horror, gently, laboriously swallows her
Creeping over her arms, like tongues of rapists, slapping at her underarms, adjusting her according to some need of tailoring, her breasts fondled, her ribs compressed, her navel probed, and down the curving mounds of her ass, thigh knee ankle heel and toe cleavage,
I’ll be your shoe, now, the robots release her, and she stumbles two drunken steps, and is turned around,
The baby swaddled in grass, snow, blood and bacterium is striped and pressed to her chest, a rutting hungry mouth finds attachment, and the suit slowly closes over the infant,
I am within you, and you are within me~ we are complete~ a union engaged in survival

And the girl dressed now, in black and silver spacesuit, with crest of tree and acorn, sits in the snow, with a plop, on her ass and throws up into her hands, silver, blood and gold

the tree and the dust

chapter 6

get up and look at your child~

the incredibly old man groans through the sweat, blood and snot of his moustashe, stepping to where the girl, almost seductively barely dressed in her night cloths, lay collapsed turned away from the horror of this battle, slaughter and crash

the five or six velveteen robots step back in unison, as a black gloved hand reaches to grab her, and pull her to her feet, when the air explodes in fire~like screaming

get up, face the child, you gave up to the death~

it's dead, i can't look, i need a suit, can't breath. . .

the hand clutches her ruffled cloth and pulls, shredding, and twisting her to her feet to strip her bare,

face the child as it faces the elements and it's birth, naked, cold and so . . . few steps to death,

the incredibly old man in black and silver uniform pushes the girl toward the squirming, fungus covered newborn, asphyxiating in the sucking atmosphere

it's dead, it has the Volve~ are you happy I'm looking, you wanted me to watch a child die, I'll watch~

and her eyes well up with boiling tears, beneath the golden brown, pale blistering skin, watches a sick pink and green human child fight the touch of bacterial assault, the creche, covered in blood, shit and placenta, you poor little thing~ and she can feel her left tit lactate, a thin curdled line of moisture leaking down the curve of her breasts~

my child she mummers a monody~

remove this uniform!

she turns and sees two robots at each side of the old man, they pull down from his shoulders and strip off his black suit which makes hissing sucking, vacuum seal sounds of breaking, and the old, man, standing evaporating in the deathly air, in sweat drenched adrenaline's repose, naked, thin scarred, burned, flesh the color of moonlight, beautiful, starpoints tattooed across his chest

take the suit, put it on and save the child~ he orders and the suit takes a step back to stand with the robots, who close there eyes and whistle~

the child is infected~ there is no cure~ there's no ship, were trapped here~ where can we go~

oh, god. she whispers when she sees the long hand carved blade of deep dark oak, half a meter, tapered to paper thin edge,

only the blood of the chosen can save this child~ the suit and the robots will take you to safety, i thank you~ with all my heart,

the incredibly old man steps before the baby and raises the blade to hover over his heart, and the olive tinged name tattooed above the beat, Sarrow, a pause, a snow shadow passes across his eye, a trickle of sweat, rolls the creases of his check, the girl clutches her breasts, and watches the blade plunge into the flesh, through the bone and into the heart which explodes, dumping it's fountain of blood into the creche, baptizing the child

the girl yells and dives for his hands and is held back, crying, now she knows who this incredibly old man really is~

the robots step in, one grabs the baby and holds it under the hot stream of blood, another holds the old man up as his knees weaken, another holds the creche under the baby ~the blood and the snows washing away the bacterium fungus, until the baby turns, opens it's eyes, black~ and screams~ a robot, grabs it by the feet, pinches off the umbilical cord and holds it dripping a thick dark carpet of red as the old man holds his lips tight and holds the knife with two hands as velveteen robots drag him back and away, dying screaming~with the pain of all of his life's memories kicking in his thoughts, begging for one last attention

Another robot takes the baby from the filth~ presses it into the girls chest~ she clutches it and hugs it to her, she's crying and rocking back and forth, as the robots surround her like flowers, like buttercup armies, like dolls against god~

to watch the snow fall without process, thoughtless

the tree and the dust

chapter 5

i spent my larval years tumbling and eating my way through the trash and extinction left behind by other races of man, or human, of being, as fleck of dust, as sparkling shard, a black snowflake~worming it's way to your heart
the Measeld Velligee Professtor

the blue, green, and white bubble that was the world sat on the tip of god's dick

which was the name of the ship* that was this world but i wouldn't know this fact for decades~ i thought i was alone on the world, of rubble and puddle and gravel and grave, among the monolithic tombs, tenements, and statue with faces blown off, worn away, tumbled into jumbled weedy beds and copse, me and the machines, the mother, the pony, the guardian and the monsters~ the snow, the ice, silver clouds and cold. . .

Alone in any human sense, is a tragic way to begin a love story~

but could you ever really begin a love story from within a prison, a jail cell, a zoo, under glass, so very Victorian

when i was born into this world. . .

what are you doing? the unbridled unicorn asks, flush yellow in the glare of starstab.

I'm telling you a story, how this all begins, so when I'm dead and killed and dismembered you can tell future archaeologist, what i was all about, what my existence will have been ~

i honestly don't think anyone will care, and i stare with a head tilted dumb, within the bacterium suit, ruffled up around my neck, the voice foggy with glittering ice

when your dead, history will have ended and thus nothing will know of you

but what of the Measled Velligee ?

He/it will look for more~ of your race

are there more, could we find them ?

and the unicorn, she called pony, shudders and lays at her feet, grab your weapons, Sarrow

this world created in mimicry of human habitation plagiarised from the ruins of diaspora, one small world, destroyed by violence and glacier

The creature hunted the barren world with paw and fang and sent it's tethered children out in front beyond it's own eye to fetch the flesh of child

little and mean like rabid feathered puff balls advance with rolling teeth, chattering,

eeeeeaaaat, they shrieked~leaping over the slice edged drifts, Pony run ! Sarrow attacks with fist crushing blows against thin skinned predator, who pop, exploding organ and tooth

she ducks, jumps rolls and kicks bites and spits, with survival vengeance, the pony leaps a tangled mass of white feather blood and cries, as Sarrow lands on his back and they run full speed on into the claw tentacle beak maw of the creature, in white, supernova, snowstorm,

hell of a planet you made, Proffestor

the creature stands up with prickled ear, and massive face and shoulders, a mouth full of hands and claws screaming, puking digestive fluids, and seamen, a horror of wide open sphincter, and the clearest blue eyes intent on prey, all stare at a thin lichen covered girl riding an improbably manufactured pony with a knife welded to it's forehead

while the creature just wanted to understand love, with it's waving frantic tentacle, olfactory, to taste the love of flesh and the flesh of loved

i love you the creature simple states why does it have to be like this ? don't you love me ?

and Sarrow atop the pony painted black with blood attacks into the very heart of this creature

cutting and hacking till she punches through to the other side and is kissed by snowlight and sweet air,

turning she looks behind to see a cave carved out of the very body of this thing slowly collapsing in spasm, death and delight

your leaving me ? i know it . . .

and Sarrow breaks a smile and laughs, as the monster lays on top of the unicorn, who squeaks, help !

*translated of coarse

the tree and the dust

chapter 4

the rain fell like glass and slashed our throats~

a whole world wilted at our feet

i drank a cup of blood in a room with diamond windows and waited for the world to come to an end~ in moon light artificial

the room was within a ship~ the ship was a world~ adrift submerged in the thick black void between stars, millions of years beyond the touch of light

we will float forever~

a crew of monsters ~

who could live forever

i could sit here watching the dust settle over hands holding the book, with it's black leather crust eyes scanning left to right, then right to left and up down, diagonal and gave up, a year had passed and the blood had gone cold, curdled, evaporated

when the window shattered and the glass shaped icicles stabbed thru the air at my face as i leap to my feet jump roll and fly cartwheel

as a monster dressed shabbily in gauche designer envirosuit pushes through the hole

so your home i tried to humor

and~ you are still alive~ the voice clicks across the air as whispered threats and the monsters face melts thru the ice of the helmets bubble

so very white the skin like blizzards against lightning

god, your hideous~ i breath in her form as the suit, shyly unfolded itself from the body, of this monster, in bipedal, twig like form, so thin and tall and pointy, unshielded, naked, pulsing, moist, bald, and furry, smooth like a fish and almost two dimensionally repulsive

this is the waste your life hunts for, this is your study, you love this form,while i mock it, and wear it's shame as costume to show you your disgrace~ and she brushes her hair back over shoulders improbably tall and flat, golden fur, with crinkly waves, and some morbid rotting fruit stink~civet

look at me,paraphilias Proffestor, put down your untranslated book and look at an actual human~

why do you prod me my friend, have your adventures fallen between the cracks of financial viability ? Human ~ that flesh you wear ~how dare you~ how disgraceful,

at my feet then planted with sisal root, i lean into the glassy shards, blood and dust fluid ground

crackle~

i found the humans, she slurs her words into unknowable yelps and squats to defecate,

alive ? what are they like~ where are they~ casual, place the great book upon the floor, hands, like corroded spiders to brush back a feaf, a fissure, standing again, bending with eye~

alive you speak of mystical creatures as alive~how ?

what ? now, you must tell me what they are ~ pleading almost feathered with excitement~

they are like this i brought you one of their young~ a baby

on fire

the tree and the dust

chapter 3

The terribly tarnished unicorn strained against the shackles, it’s forelock swinging back and forth before it’s brilliant blue eyes~ it's rider dead~
The chains bolted and welded to the hull of the flat black ship embossed with double lightning bolt insignia, jumping in and out of light speeds kiss
The magnetic hoofs clanked, scratched and slip
The stars wink, shift and change around the skies umbrella~ fall
And sink into the cold rolled steel surface as fire flies slipping into puddles of summer dusk drownings

the machine made to look like a child's toy, barred it's teeth, and seethed under shackle, and saddle

you will show us the way to your world the voice from the decking sighs, slipping into sibilants, a thing roughly man shaped standing just out of reach faces the dying pony~

man shaped, and sized in glittering surprised living cloths, squirming, roiled, a face attached to a head, like a fist shoved in a throat~ with horribly sizzling eye wafted invapored

a hand gestures to the black winking stars~

I'll point~ and you can say when~ this wont take long~is this your home~? the hand like a stick poked into a rotting fruit, carved with a knife points randomly at white red blue green ink spot dots, waving~

one of these stars is YOUR HOME SYSTEM~ MACHINE~ let me ride upon your back ~take me there~i really want to see a world of toys and children, these fields and forests~

let me free first~unchain my legs, get me inside this vessel and i will show you vengeance and take your corpse to hell

a long pony face veined and angered spits evaporated air full of words, the man shaped thing steps forward and points~

your little friend wouldn't hold my hand either machine~ is your world in some childhood heaven for martyrs and heathen~alike ?

the rider bound to the unicorns back, braided to saddle slowly shrivels in vacuum, hair, burning off scalp. flesh crinkling, turning brown, bony checks pulling back from bright crisp tooth, clothing crumbling away to dust and gases, eyes squeezed shut, ears nose finger tips floating off into the startling sunlight in small brown puffs

Sarrow, I'm so sorry the unicorn cries out~ I'm so sorry. . . you have died like this~ in front of this witness

and the tethered unicorn feels unburdened as the girl, seated upon the saddle disintegrates, floats off~forever in fluttering particle

now there is room for me to sit the man shaped thing laughs, would you like some tea, perhaps a party~ now that your master is within death, you are free~show me a star~pick one~ take me there~

and the ship leaps, jumps and vaults six, ten forty, a hundred times

in swirling milky curdles~stops, over a green world, agitated

WE ARE HOME LITTLE MACHINE~ SARROW LOOKED, I FOLLOWED HER EYES, BEFORE SHE DIED, SHE TOLD ME, SHE DIDN'T WANT TO DIE ALONE, HEAVEN'S A LONELY PLACE FOR HUMAN TOYS. she didn't want to tell me, she just couldn't help herself

`

NOOOOO !

the terribly troubled unicorn screams and shatters it's chains lunging at. . .nothing but emptiness

tell the story right, Sarrow squeaks, as a fleck of dust within a mote, awash in tears

the tree and the dust 2

the ring of velveteen robots stared with perfect menace at the girl in tattered night cloths, torn bloody with mud, as she stepped toward them swung about by the incredibly old man, in the black and silver spacesuit,

behind this phalanx sitting on the horizon~inflamed lay the destroyed carcass of a spaceship, heaving in broiling fire, while the sickle like slice of moon shimmers

the girl holds her arms across her chest and breaths great plumes of steam, and gasps~

i can't breathe

what happened to the ship ?

the old man shakes the words out of his mouth, like dust, teeth, ice and gravel~

his back toward her, his shoulders dropped, facing the machines, who merely shrug and stand there,

they don't speak move aside,or lower their weapons and the girl in night cloths turns to run,

she doesn't want to see anymore horror,

runs into the arms of a robot, who holds her wrist and subdues her,

it's face a smooth ovoid of black, two bumps at the sides, as if it wore a mask pressing down on the ears, and sown into the void of a face sunk a few centimeters two glittery jewels in silver, blue and topaz

she is lead to the side of the old man~ shivering as the cold hits her, the air fails to fill her blood, she is dying~ this planet is not a home for feral humans

she coughs and drops to her knee, beside the man who stares at the corpses~ steaming in the night

the snow and the ice splashed in blood, droplets the size of fists, the bodies lay in crater, upon a mattress of cloaks,

twin uniformed women vivisected~splashed about,

holding the creche protectively where the pink fungus covered infant squirms and gurgles~ the umbilical laced up into a limbless burning torso

what happened to the mother ? the girl hears the old man cry, as he falls toward the baby, she doesn't hear anyone speak as in answer, but she knew~ the creature.

whispered~

this is not a fairly tale

this is blood

the tree and the dust

the very incredibly old man walked across the plate glass frozen face of the lake with perfect form~

while the world around him hummed and whispered with winters worry, the movements below his boots caught his eye, bubbling in tear

a frog just barley alive, a newt, a red stripped turtle a silver knife of a fish, a current, an eddy, a dusty snow globe turning end over end forever

snow blown pillows, mounds rippled, the unharnessed wind billowing his cape, in black with silver pipping a knife, a gun. silver and chrome, his white beard blown to caress his throat, his helmet held under arm pressed to his side, an auxiliary head, in black and silver, an embossed tree within an acorn, the visor reflecting a pure winter white, on white spoiled ~a spot of blood, a star

an old man's face torn to shreds by time and punctuated with deep purple pinpoint pox of astrology

the eyes watch the fish so slow in the thick waters below the ice, a frog pinned to the ceiling of clear. . .life. . .postponed

a crack, pings, echos,reverbs out in the thin air like artillery, the world lurches and almost stops, gravity releases him from it's grip and he leaps into the flash frozen air like a dark monstrous moth against the grey dusky sky, sprinkled with snowflakes the size of plates which slice at his body, uniform cape and helmet, his gloved hand pulls the helmet up to cover his head, as he lands on the shore, in the blackberry brambles, where he runs~as the lake behind him explodes up into the sky to extinguish the very stars,

he curses

and runs through the thicket, as the ice in clear blocks of lead crash into the ground, expanding craters of snow and bright red stalk, and crystallized black soil, hail, snow, shrapnel rips at his back and the girl he drags behind him-

screams !

little mee mee told me that she would only read my blog if it was about vampires, so, here you go baby, a brand new serial, BLOGNOV, only it's going to be a s-f vampire novel set in the way distant future with robots and Nazis of course, now lets see if she reads this crappola, one chapter a week, i guess, i was going to make this a cellphone novel, but those are just too trendy right now, and i don't have a keypad type celly, and Mee-mee doesnt' have a phone anyway, now we can all start writing blog novels, BLOGNOV, love that word, blognov, say it.