Flash Fiction - Issue 4
Bleached Crab
The weight of my body pressed down on me. A pendulum. A keel.
The gelatinous sacks of my lungs weighted my spine. Unseen rib-bones
formed arches that threatened to collapse at the slightest provocation. My
legs had become dust overnight, inert beams that extended from a leaden
torso, impervious to my commands.
Inert as stone, on the threshold of death, I searched for memories before
I forgot who I was.
I've danced on the beaches of Ta'akora. I've led sheep and goats onto
the steppe in the summer rain.
I've embraced a rival sibling at the birth of a long awaited brother.
The ghost of a priest has visited me on a train from Kolkata to Dehradun.
I've gazed into the eyes of my new bride and waltzed between tables
draped in gauze.
I've been lost in the Atlas Mountains. The summons of jungle fowl has
led me to a knife-drop ledge, where the call of a small dog saved me from
death's jaws.
I've baked in the sun alongside a bleached crab and stared into its
empty carapace, alone, entangled.
I've loved a child who wasn't my own.
And I'll die in the comfort of my own bed. The life ebbs out of me, as my
heart pumps blood through the rift in my body, as my heart pumps blood
through until it − is − all −
The gelatinous sacks of my lungs weighted my spine. Unseen rib-bones
formed arches that threatened to collapse at the slightest provocation. My
legs had become dust overnight, inert beams that extended from a leaden
torso, impervious to my commands.
Inert as stone, on the threshold of death, I searched for memories before
I forgot who I was.
I've danced on the beaches of Ta'akora. I've led sheep and goats onto
the steppe in the summer rain.
I've embraced a rival sibling at the birth of a long awaited brother.
The ghost of a priest has visited me on a train from Kolkata to Dehradun.
I've gazed into the eyes of my new bride and waltzed between tables
draped in gauze.
I've been lost in the Atlas Mountains. The summons of jungle fowl has
led me to a knife-drop ledge, where the call of a small dog saved me from
death's jaws.
I've baked in the sun alongside a bleached crab and stared into its
empty carapace, alone, entangled.
I've loved a child who wasn't my own.
And I'll die in the comfort of my own bed. The life ebbs out of me, as my
heart pumps blood through the rift in my body, as my heart pumps blood
through until it − is − all −
