On snow-covered streets, the carcass is ridden like an icebreaker. Its chin is ground down to the root of the tongue. It spills magic words in the shape of brittle teeth.
One could follow the blood trail as it turned to ice. A brilliant red lacquer that bounces light and soaks up atmosphere.
End results don't posit much truth. Just undesirables reduced to vehicles that are left to rust as blood stains on the landscape. Highways of headless pilots, bodies strewn like dirty laundry, magic words in clumps advertising filth in an unforgettable laundrette.
Then the snow falls again and the world is cleansed of evil.
Until the next thaw.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment