Savage omgangsvormen

October 20, 2008

top floor flat by robert warrington

the rape by vanja kovacic

The Rape by Vanja Kovacic

October 20, 2008

The night is dark, full of the supernatural.  You sit next to me but are not here; lost in thought I would rather be anywhere but here, anywhere.  You speak, but I do not hear you because I don’t have the power to read people’s minds.  In the freak show we call our lives anything is possible.  We allow for much less. 

 

“Show me what you like!” said he who was starting to look less and less like a human by the minute.

 

“Let’s not do this right now…” was the response.

 

“No, let’s.  You’re ruining the moment.”

 

“Good.  It wasn’t my moment, I’ll tell you that much.” 

 

Instead, let’s talk about respect.  It comes in many forms, shapes and sizes, usually instilled by the outside.  You respect your parents, your teachers, your grandmother, and the elderly in general, but above all you should respect the people who love you … are attached to you. If they say no, it is no, no argument, no debate and no force.   But you and me are beyond respecting each other.  I just wanted to talk about the way things should be for a change. 

 

“What is the matter with you today?” asked he who no longer looked familiar as a member of the same species.

 

“Nothing.” Came the reply, burdened by lack of interest and fear.

 

“If it’s that thing that’s bothering you I promise it won’t happen again.”

 

Somehow, that doesn’t change much. “I’m going for a walk.”

 

 

Fast creaking of bed springs from the top floor flat.
Then her voice: “Not so hard!”
Then confusing sounds.
Then no sounds.
Then more creaking sounds, just as fast.
Then a series of brief, strangled cries.
Then her joyless groans.
Then her groans becoming tearful, angry sounds.
Then: “Get off me!”
Then her shouting four letter words.
Then words drowned by sobs.
Then her crying so hard it sounds as if her throat is ripping.
Then him shouting “Shut up, shut up!”
Then more noise.
Then him going to the bathroom and coming back
– doing this twice, each time slamming the door of their flat.
Then light under my door from the hall light coming on.
Then him running downstairs.
Then the sound of the front door of the house being opened.
Then the sound of him stepping outside but not walking away.  
Then the sound of the front door closing and him going back up the stairs.
Then the door of the top floor flat being opened.
Then her voice (now loud, distorted by crying): “You hurt me!”
Then him shouting an obscenity.
Then the door of the top floor flat being slammed.
Then everything muffled but her still crying.
Then the crying fading.
Then the hall light automatically going off.
Then night.
Then nothing.

Savage Omnibus #7

October 13, 2008

Dust in the wind by LenaVanelslander

dancing in the dark by LenaVanelslander

the perfect trip by LenaVanelslander

Dust in the wind

October 13, 2008

Dust in the wind
Caressing your face
Let it be ashes to ashes
For what is left.
 
An old tree branch eroded
Ruins of ancient life
Beauty lying in the desolate
Beauty lying in the mind
not in the eye.

Dancing in the dark …

October 13, 2008

A deserted corridor
Of what once used to be
The desperate traveller gazes
at what’s to be left again
The crisping ashes of the past
Give stars and particals of light
Dancing in the dust
To start a new
Again.
 
Once a travelling lady …

The perfect trip …

October 13, 2008

A new love so pure
no hardship yet to endure
we set a sail to a far of shore
without an inch of a bore
Not knowing our destiny
We road along
On a path unknown to me
Ever so long
We had the time of our life
Nothing could stand in our way
We were made for each other
Till that fatal day …

Where are the rebels?

Savage Omnibus #6

September 3, 2008

Zygote in my Coffee print edition #5

this whores flesh ~ suzy devere

fear living ~ mikael covey

once upon a lifetime ~ lena vanelslander

Hate the Radio

story south ~ million writers award

Sweet, sour and bitter memories
Mistakes to be made
Failures to evade
Chase, race around her head
but no regret
for it was once upon a lifetime
the opportunity was met

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