Whilst the sun drips away, sorrow purges dead veins like sea ice flowing to the heart. Yet, hope remains of a place beyond places where lovers might live in peace and the gentle thuds of a chest in motion beguiles what melancholy has disenfranchised. Two wait to step into eternity.
Into Eternity (Coming very soon!)
Also by Richard M. Ankers
The germs, they slip across my oozing skin, greasy hair, delve under my fingernails. A beast, that's me, an abomination made real by the air that infiltrates my permeable skin; it's taking over. There's nothing I can do to stop it. This contagion has taken me. I call it life.
A menacing exchange of glowering, slitted eyes, the two antagonists circled in soundless rage. Not for the faint-hearted, each appraised the other like Great White sharks in oceanic depths unwilling to fight unless necessary. Who'd blink first? Who'd rule the street? A hiss, a meow, and the ginger cat fled.
Helen's amazing skill was her insatiable ability to absorb information, retain it, then expound it at the most cutting times. Fortunately, I had the world's worst memory and forgot everything she said. In many ways, we were the perfect couple though Helen argued different. I think that's what she said!
I'd felt it. She'd felt it. Our son remained asleep. Our yacht rocked though the sea didn't, becalmed, it stretched into forever.
I scanned the surface looking to all points of the compass, then even the sky: nothing. When I looked back to Jane, she wept. Her index pointed beneath.
The storm tossed us around like straw in a meadow. Violent gusts of wind tore the ship apart and hurled me unnoticed into the spewing waves. I screamed, but nobody heard. It wasn’t the ocean that killed me. It was my mind. I believed myself shipwrecked, but it argued lost.
She swept across the meadow in bouquets of death. The snowdrops, my favourites, turned black, the early daffodils wilted in grey. She entered my yard without asking and took my hands; I didn’t want to go. Lady Death cajoled me against my wishes. I’d so hoped to stay at home.
The dog followed me home even though I peddled faster. It loped along barely panting as I huffed and puffed, a long-haired mongrel with a lolling tongue. He looked like Luke before the war took him. I loved that dog and told him so, as I should've done my brother.
The ducks took over in rough quacks and the slap of webbed feet on tarmac. They bustled us into oblivion, poured from the rivers with hard beaks and staring eyes. Who'd have though it? Of all the creatures to rise up and wipeout humanity, ducks! The world had gone quackers.
I never stay.
I hum the same song. The words chug out with the same repetition as the tracks, a beat only I appreciate. It’s no life, mum claimed, travelling without a destination. She never understood. No one does. Only the songwriter and me.