A heavy gust aggressively compelled the tiny vessel, like a stone that skips across an onyx chasm a thousand miles wide, under blood red skies, book ended by imminent torture and death on both sides. Every path leads to somebody’s destiny. I only hoped this path would lead me to a destiny where I survived.
My eyelids descended with a deep, insufficient breath, and I drew deeper and the gentle warmth of a shaded tropical sun poured into me as though a flood gate slowly gave way.
A warm, dense tropical breeze lifted and jilted me out of a dug melancholy. Why did she leave? Deep canopies of shivering foliage as verdant and diverse as the ocean floor, shaded me.
I knew at once I wasn’t alone, and the feel of it was not her. The ecstasy of the Pan was long gone. Yet, the signature of her body still hummed in my mind like the reverberations of a bat’s cry.
What started out as fascinating, exotic and breathtaking, has left me breathless, friendless and abandoned.
I was thinking this as she spoke to me from the shadow of a tremendous ancient sumac.
“Is this what you think?”
She was close enough for me to hear the breath in her voice. At moments, right against me. Heat
“No,” I said in my sandy high timbre, uncertainly “I don’t know what’s happening.” I began to get…
“Don’t be scared. James.” I felt her breath on my chest, against my shirt. Penetrating like a cool chill in a heat wave. And mirrored in my belly, hot to cold. “I’m you’re friend. We can be best friends! Did you know this is a magical place. It’s the most incredible fantasy, and it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Just watch the starflowers come to life! That only happens when you’re not looking. But you can sneak a peak. And if you do, you jussst might see your first fairy.”
Just days ago, (or was it’s weeks ago by now) I was sleeping downtown, in Portland. I stayed in the shelter camp down there for a couple months. Ever since I got into a brawl with the fosters I’d been with for a year. Since freshman year. It’s quieter in Chinatown, in a tent on Burnside, with a girl I’d met in school.
She was a Junior, and a rich kid. Maybe I loved her. I told her I did. But while I ate my sandwich at the soup kitchen, she was down in West Lynn, checking in with her parents.
I’d been pulling scraps from east side cans behind Whole Foods and New Seasons, begging with signs outside Lebanese restaurants and Powell’s and fighting off benzos and tweekers in china town, that would attack me when I slept, try to take my backpack and my shoes.
The night before I woke up here, my father’s journal was stolen out of my bag. That was all they took. I had money and some energy bars, but they only took the book.
In my hand that morning was a small silver braid made of such fine, soft hair, that reflected brilliantly and colorfully luminescent.
As badly as I wanted to be anywhere in the world but back there on the street, or living with more money grubbing foster fucks, I could feel myself out of place. I knew in that I didn’t belong on this island. It was so clear to me it was crushing me breathless.
The dense jungle floor moss rose into a tremendous trunk that was a tree as tall as the Wells Fargo tower.
And behind the croak of the green and red toads that sound exactly like they’re actually saying, “Gooo.” Throughout every day and night. Behind, is a sound that just penetrates you. You don’t really hear it. It’s just there, whispering into your dreams, like a neusance.
A quiet fell onto the jungle.. Then everything was gone. The birds, the toads, insects. All of it. Dead fuckin silence. For like three hours. Symphonic at first. Serenity.
The shimmering sounds of tuning forks reverberating through crystal champagne flutes, danced somewhere between here in the wakeful dimension and the one of sleep.
The sun decended like a deflating memory, until it was all but gone.
But then, I heard her, calling my name, in my head. I stepped away, into the night behind me, into the verdant, verdant jungle, dangerously decadent, perilously violent. I heard her. She whispered, and then called me, and she ached for me, and I followed.
I realized as I passed by the trees and the sound waves declined, it was the ring of a fairy. It was just a thing I knew innately naturally. I found a tree that let me simply run up its trunk diagonally, and I climbed higher straight up, and saw the irridescent shimmer of her wings, glisten in the rays of sun.
Then from the shadows, like a claw of black smoke, it grabbed her from the stone where she sat, just like a butterfly, but thinking of her broken heart. How she’ll do anything for love.
This is how she felt. It’s how they all felt. All those fucking bells. Moping and eager to seduce you.
This shadow wraith with blonde lockes and black eyes, held the fairy in its fist, and drew its mouth open and frightfully wider and wider. Teeth like the serrated type of prehistoric beasts, birds of nightmare.
A noise so furious and impossible sounded from her gaping mouth and the tiny fairy’s delicate magical head burst, with no magic to protect her from that.
But fairies remember everything. Very much a hive mind. You protect one, they will always know you. If you kill one, you had best not let it see you when you do it.
And if you consume one before the magic in their blood dies away, you might just live forever. Because the blood of a forest nymph is the diet of fallen angels. Fallen gods. Synonymous.
But I’m getting ahead of myself, and I closed my eyes to the scene, only to wake into this world where I am at the helm of a boat, and I’m sailing it drastically against the chopping waves, towards a looming aircraft carrier that stood in the sea, flanked on both sides by a forest of destroyers and naval vessels.
I’d sailed these waters two years before now. This course does not promise a reasonable survival success rate.
But what happened, came before we reached the ship.
And this beast made of acrylic and aluminum and steel, that I only describe as a sea denizen.
A sea dragon. A devised artificial intuition, designed like a twelve foot snake, with the menacing head of a dragon.
A Google original.
That’s another story