Quem não quer sofrer nasce morto

 Olhos palidos pedindo cegueira
Sofrimento é uma sentença
O jogo que durar eternidades
Um caminho longo

Prazer em raro intervalos
Faíscas na exisência
Quem não quer sofrer
vai sofrer em dobro

Labios e ouvidos
Um deslizamento
Um esforço em vão
Emoções desperdiçadas

Aquele dor horrivel
Um pé no vulcão
realidade uma fera
Quem vai querer?

Quem não quer sofrer
Busca justiça a toa
O mundo não ouça
Velha abandonada louça

Forte alivio desde
o desejo passou
Alma medrosa sobrou
A vida é perigo

arriscada 
calamitosa
Suavamente brutal

Them woods

  Where is Russel?

Russel was lost in the rockies for several weeks and his bod was never found.
That was ninety one. Now it's 2025. People say they see his clothes hung up in trees during the summer months and cabins in the region get midnight visits by something trying to enter.
They were attributed to Russel.
As they were the same hotspots and clues were always found, as if the man was still alive trying to make contact with humanity again.
Alas his body itself was never seen. And people never describe more than a shadow.
or awkwardly shapen tracks through the snow. In 1991 there was a seach party two weeks after his disappearance, this story is about that experience.

Gareth, Aaron and Jane acquiantances of Russel left Toronto morning August 23rd 1991.
"No early snows to speak of, and no news of any avalanches either" Aaron stated pushing optimism.
"Yeah he could easily be lost out there somewhere" Gareth said.
"That's the hope. He was due back a week ago however and he is not exactly new to the great outdoors."

A few hours of hush as the true seriousness of the situation sunk in. Jane the great injector of harsh truths, Aaron the dresser upper and Gareth usually optimistic by nature.
They arrived at the carpark where Russel's car had been towed from.
A small shelter maybe 30 meters in size with a front door and a few thick windows.
"Park ranger's not coming in today apparently."
"No problem I already have a note here we can leave in the cabin"

There was some light snow on the ground which was not normal for August. But no close to indicating any danger for campers in terms of cold, and it was already showing signs of melting.
Aaron gathered a little in his drink bottle crouching briefly.
"How far up the track was he camped? Or how far did he usually camp up there?" Jane asked Gareth who knew Russel better.
"Oh we once made it a few kilometers past the lake at the end. It's atleast seventeen kilometers from here".

"Not supposed to go beyond the lake. Atleast thats what the Alonquian tribes say."
"Oh yer because bigfoot gonna eat them right Aaron?"
Aaron just smirked.
Gareth said "The wilderness is really different at night, it can play tricks on your mind"
"Russel must have thought himself immortal coming out here by himself!" Jane said
"Although the real danger is just bear right?" she added
"I don't know those stags get pretty big" Gareth retorted

They approached some bare shrubs with a piece of orange material flying in the wind just a few meters from the track.
"Must be from his hunting vest" Jane observed.
"It could be from anyone" Aaron said quickly.
Jane packed it away in her jacket pocket.

They walked over foothills almost prairie like flat lands foothills and more foothills.
Then like a great gate rising up composed of thick tall douglas fir and blue spruce.
"Finally we get to the forest" Aaron said.
As they breached the fringe something pale sat watching them.
"Look it's a lizard." Gareth said.
Aaron said "But it's so pale, I've never seen anything like it before."
"It's probably albino" Jane downplaying their fascinations.

Kilometers in they set up their camp in small clearing so they could potentially get some moonlight, if one needed to relieve oneself post midnight.
A small fire and some comfortable moss to carpet the underlayer of the tents.
Yet the night was uncomfortable. There was a low moan that almost went from animal and human and back, the best way to describe it is the noise of a hungry stomach and a faint dog growl.
Loud enough to perturb them all. silent enough for them to nod off eventually.

The next day progress was slow, another strip of Russel's hunting vest was found on the side of the track and the forest track despite protecting them from the glaring sun, seemed to fork and give false paths to nowhere, in which case they's have to double back.
Jane optimistic and the boys compeltely sombre. That is until they reached the lake.
Emerging from the forest like cheerful children. Jane thought so.

They fished and talked and felt at ease. The noise inside the forest wasn't heard here, it was in exact contrast to the shady confusion of the forest.
With a campfire and fresh food they slept better than they could at home.
The next day they awoke to a cold morning. A light snow and low fog.
Something had changed the weather.

They made their way passed the lake and into the low mountains. The day grew grey and exhausting. They hiked up the inclines often using their hands to pull themselves over rocks or to balance themselves.
They got to a flat space by dusk and decided to camp once again.
"Fuck it" Gareth cried out.
"What's wrong" Jane inquired.
"It's back"
"what's back?"
"Jane he's talking about the noise." Aaron said
They went through the motions with no real expression scared and disappointed.
The noise came and went sharpening on a forceful breeze that would blow so hard against their tents that the lining would cave inward in a sinister way. 
It was too much for Jane and she went to sleep in Gareth's tent. Aaron was there a few minutes later obviously hearing the new sleeping arrangement, and joining out of fear.

It seemed darker than the forest, the noise stopped around 3.30am. They started to hear foot steps not far off. Gareth opened the tent and they all piled out, they hadn't been sleeping.
They shone their torches in the direction of the noise and there it was. On the edge of their little camp site.
A human man hairless and pale, something reptillian about him. Leaning forward as they witnessed grinning at them.
"It's Russel" Jane said as if the thing wasn't sensing them.
"No it's not"
The creature leaned in further sniffing with a non existant nose and a dog skullish grin.
It took two ssteps back and vanished into the dark.
"It was a ghost" Gareth said.
Jane insisted "It was russel somehow"
Aaron looked at them both as if a child.
" I can prove it" Gareth said.
Walking over and shining his lantern on the patch of snow the thing was standing on.
"There's nothing there."
Needless to say noone slept that night.

In the morning after a few attempts at sleep they set off for home.
Pretty shaken and very tired.
They had almost reached the lake that idyllic place that seemed so safe and welcoming.
"I know what it was, I saw the line on his arm. That's what made me say it"
"Why didn't you tell us last night then" Gareth inquired aggressivley
"It's true Gareth I saw it too, the shock of whatever hes transformed into stopped me from being able to identify it." Aaron conceded
Gareth looked down "Next bad news you guys got keep it to yourself"
"Is it bad news?" jane asked
"Yes, that thing is something from legend. It could not survive out there in the cold naked like that."

"But it still August maybe he went mad and emaciated" Aaron said
"Summer hasn't touched this place Aaron."Replied Gareth.
They hung their heads and once again unpacked their things to make camp.
As darkness took over the three dreamed of the images of the creature they had seen out there that night. The way it had peered into them. The grin. A knowing. A certainty and yet a game.

They dreamed of the pale creature observing their tents from the outside. Gareth woke the other two.

" I dreamed there was a racoon playing not twenty meters from our tent down there by lakeside."
They shone their torches and to their terror there was something moving down by the lake.
A Racoon turning over rocks looking for something. No
The first subtle sign of light was coming into the sky. The three of them clambered to pack up the camp.
They skipped breakfast and kept a quick pace until they got back to the parking lot.
It was  dusk again, this time though they would be able to drive home and spend their night sleeping in beds.

True darkness the experience had marked them deeply and they spent a few nights sleeping in the same room just to rehabilitate themselves from the shock. The story that would later be told as the shared hallucination. In a world of no certainty. some might believe there was something odd out there in them woods.



 

A punch in the face on tuesday

 He would bait people into fighting with him. A lot of bullies were just like that. Handing over the gloves, his teenage henchman talking the potential victim into participating in the fight.
"You'll do alright bro, You underestimate your strength."
When they got in for the whisper the candidate was trapped and processed like a piece of meat.
whispering "You don't want to look ike a fucking whuss infront of everyone here, otherwise your going to get your ass kicked anyway when people hear you backed out"
Red face and red gloves and ready to get a beating.

I didn't try to dissuade them. I'd like to excuse myself from all blame, but I'll leave the pretending to the professionals.
The demonic piece of me wanted to see them recieve the pounding of their lives, and fall on their back.
Look absolutely ridiculous then have some of the friends convince him he was brave. It wasn't because I hated them intrinsically, some of them were good friends. But the lie they told that I could already see was bogus made me wrythe in anger. The lie that you need to prove yourself the same way to be a man.
A completely overt weakness in conviction.

If i had a cauldron I'd watch the lot boil forever. Pride what a fucking fallacy.
who needs pride in the modern world.
It doesn't reflect on your ability to adapt, to survive or succeed, its just shit fuel for talk and bragging when you've drunken more than you should have. So boil away and shove your mediocre sense of honor where the sun don't shine.

On the day out there, I'm going to say it was tuesday. There was Brad, Stock, big Jenkins, Boston and Aussie and a group of future losers guaranteed.
Boston the devlish popular sports star of the college, feared by quite a few, yet loved by many.
big provocative lips, smirk and Jibe.
Unfortunately placed against Pops or big Jenkins, who was only sixteen years old but already had a few grey hairs poking out, hence the name. more feared than loved. Impressive beast indeed.

But arrogance got the better of Boston as it always did, as it got the better of all of us. Learning to overlook our weaknesses like so many stacks on stacks of generations. Falling into those traps that would cause us literally months of pain and humiliation and for some suicide.

Gloves on and faces remained cordial, then weird fighting eyes faced off and the first blow came from jenkins, knocking boston slightly off balance.
The Boston replied with a flurry of blows landing 2 or 3 out of about 14, it did look impressive, but had no effect on Pops who'd taken beatings from his brothers and father that would put most of us in hospital, yet wouldn't exceed routine for him.
So a well planted foot and uppercut came whizzing up from under Boston's chest "Whack."
Big Jenkins used his mouth to make the sound efffect he literally sounded the " whizzz." And the crack as it lounded asttonished us.
Then he bellowed laughter.

And again Boston was on him landing left and right, excellent aim, but subpar in power. After pops took a few to the face he changed stance.
One right cross sent Boston reeling almost falling off the green grassy mounds we were using so the teachers wouldn't see.
He took the gloves off and said, "I landed more blows so I would have won." But none of us were having it. "Giving up already" Even the weakest of us who were no match the for the wild and renown boston were ridiculing him.
I looked at the sky this must be what hell is like. Why would anyone need heaven?
Pride, glory and honor values that seem neo christian back here in the eighties and nineties. Drove these idiots to tear themselves apart to prove themselves.

Don't let poeple gode you into fighting their way.
If you get hooked into someone elses game you might as well just offer your face for the beating of your life. The games went on for months until the school itself had to take drastic action to put a stop to.
In that time I did witness a sacred few who shined.
Who surprised us all by putting down a bigger and more vicious boy. It certainly made the whole affair more entertaining if that were possible.
What became most obvious and most unbelieveable was the capacity young 15 and 16 year olds had for withholding years of pure anger and rage then releasing it. Incredibly potent tangible expression. that on occasion would scare the living shit out of the many spectators.

Pride was a lie, yet violence came with its' own abstract heavy truth.

Contrasts on the trailing vine

 Small town village about 70 kilometers from our home closer to town.
"Let's get of here now, there'll be a storm and no doubt we'll get stranded." I said.
"You are probably right, clouds looking dark out there." My wife responded.

Ten kilometers down the road a tyre exploded on the highway, "fuuuuck"
swerving to keep the car on the road, then bringing it slowly to a halt.
"Hey look staglands petrol station and mechanics is open, t's only about 600 meters."
Ok lets walk up see if they can tow it in, it'll be too difficult to push"

There were two guys working at the mechanic, Locky and Steve.
"Thanks for helping us guys."
Neither of them responded. My wife looked at me. "Not very friendly are they?"
they brought the car in and started working on repairing the damage to the rims.
Behind the roadside shop was a small boutique village with shops full of kitsch and ornaments.
A small restaurant and cafe. Big fruit trees surrounded, local farmers teenage children mobbed about curious and teasing.

We spent an hour walking around and sampling some of the local food.
The owners were from India and really let the Hindu themes stand out.
Back at the car Steve spoke up "They bring their stupid culture here to this country."
Locky didn't make a peep. 
Both in their early thirties, both had worked there for their entire adult lives.
Locky long dark here and yellowish white skin, Steve extremely thin short curly grey brown hair.

Their boss came in. "Steve stop ranting about the foreigners again"
My wife tapped me on the shoulder "This is racist Steve"
A couple we had run into earlier had commented on the mechanic shop boys.

"So how long is it going to be, do you think?"
"Oh not long, Put a new tyre and you guys can be on your way."
Locky gave my wife a wink. "I stared at him. He just pretended I wasn't there. 
A skill I used to have when I was younger and somehow lost.
We got into the car "It was four hundred and fifty dollars."
"Could have been more expensive"
Thunder clapped and it started raining heavily.

The road almost became invisible and the wind pushed and pulled the car.
Something crashed from behind us. 
A large tree crossing the road directly and cutting off traffic both way. Also taking down powerlines.
"Thank god" she muttered.
"Hey thats a bad thing, now they are all cut off completely."
"Yeah but we actually got out of there before."
"Typical summer disasters, right?"

The rain subsided enough to see the road again the two thick layers of grey sky met on the horizon one on top of the other. The darker higher and expanding.
"What a contrast the weather is, sunny and idyllic one minute, stormy and hurricane like the next."
My wife looked into my eyes. "Just the way you like it, isn't it"
"Living a life without contrasts would be quite boring I guess" I admitted.
 

The lord of mercy

 The lord stands twenty meters tall in this city
He recognizes our hearts
destroys the corrupt among us
thundering blows

his smile brings the sky
The internal justice
confusion brutality

life and growth

he treads across the land
the sample valley
your sample existance
pleading fairness, fairness

the land is his
the sky swirls in applause
A thunder clap and birds witness
a criminal falls torn from within

breathless
begging mercy
no following speech
perhaps a mystery

the language of punishment
is graffitied on the inner walls
of the corrupted heart
playing like an Lp

The devil just kicks back
and indulges your play list
as it revolves around and around
carved in to destiny

the artist was you
pretending to be the victim
the witness
Oh this Lord just walks over us

Street change on Barbosa avenue

 After the street market Tacks my business associate and I went up the steep street next to the avenue to see the lawyer.
His door was locked, the late afternoon was a soothing shade under blue, a crisp warmth.
We knocked again before getting out our cigarettes.
"Do you think he's busy or do you think he's out?"
Tack said "He knows it's you, he's avoiding you."
"Oh that's hurtful I said sarcastically"

The lawyer had been avoiding us for weeks, and passing a few other people on the way up the street, we could see we weren't the only ones. The windless calm did lull us into a false sense of security which was never good in Sao Paulo.

Timmy and Acorn the street bums happened upon us. 
Timmy rummaged along the side of the street, through the trash. Looking for loose change or something the punters let fall from their pockets. Same two mendingos after every street market, making a few bob off watching the cars. 

Acorn regarded us directly and spoke politely but in hushed tones so that his companion wouldn't hear him.
"Hi bosses, how you'se goin aye? Listen I don't usually ask, but it's about Ol Timmy here, last night he was evicted from his buildin, him in his missus kicked out on their asses."
"Oh horrid" I put Tacks nodding sympathetically.
Both if us taken in hook line and sinker.
"Yeah so Im getting together some change to put him up in a shelter, you spare a few?"

"I guess so" "Yeah no worries" Tack and I replied.
Handing over a few real. 

I turned to Tacks, almost moved to emotion by the friends gesture.
"Would you do something like that for me if I was in a similar mess?"
"Most probably would"
But look tacks pointed. Acorn had taken off walking hurriedly away, leaving the Timmy to continue his afternoon rummaging.

"I guess sharing a bottle of white rum and a cardboard box hasn't done anything for their relationship!"
We fell about laughing.
Timmy got ears of our jokes and his head went up like a hen in danger.
Positioning his ear to get an idea of what we were saying, the way he moved his neck seemed to quick or tight.

I rose my index to my lips, but Timmy knew we were joking about him. We started walking back down to the bottom of the street looking away from his targetting glances. We got to the pedestrian crossing and had to stop. We didn't see Timmy following us, he popped out of nowhere and without respecting personal distance came in almost hugging us.

The tone of Timmy's voice was full especailly rueful.
"Acorn always does that, he gets money telling a story bout me gettin evicted. Thing is I aint got no lodgins. What I scrounge is just for eats int it?"

"Do you need a buck Timmy?" Tacks asked. "Yeah since ya askin I do now."
We were expecting him to tear up in repentence of a life ill spent, neither of us had wanted for much in our lives. Was it heartfelt charity that made us reach for our wallets or just the desire to have Timmy's strange smelling clothes away from us, the question just intensified the guilt of knowing we were haves, and he was a have not.

"What about your friend then selling you out like that? Why do you still hang out with that lout then?"
"Because next week it'll be his turn to rummage outside the lawyers building, and my time to play the violin."
Timmy grabbed the bronze reals from our hands and sprinted into the traffic, laughing.

"How is it with so many casualties on the roads every day, these guys never get hit?"
Tacks scoffed and giggled briefly.

"Because they know how things work better than we do."

Heatstroke south of sudan

 That hot afternoon fifty of my tribes men pounded drums.
The rhythm was inciting all of the small local villagers to the large clearing at the foot of the forest.
The sun shining through, dozens of home made juices and drinks.
What an occasion I danced and danced. My tribe dance with me.
I was a part of something I was not alone. yet something tickled my ear as if there would be some tragic event looming.

I bounded into the air full smile, knees bent and hands risen high. A long shark like bullet split through my endorphin ridden brain. Screaming through in less than a second, though having an hour long conversaton with my nerve endings as whizzed through.

It spoke of where it came from a life of order and glory filled with gunpowder and curated for the magazine home and the airport barrel. The bullet blurted out that it had gone through some ups and downs on it's trajectory into my head. That it's purpose was now fulfilled and that it would move on. Leaving my skull.

"Whizz snap" As if the mistake that murder is, made perfect sense.
The lifeless body once me, consecrated some lost desire of the cosmos.
On the fall my last energy leapt toward the glare of the afternoon sun,
the juice from cups splashing on impact of a local toast.

A split second to feel the last ounce of existence leaving. Laughing out of me as if life iself was a silly joke. Like a vacuum cleaner I try to soak them back in, and they wind more of me out.
Until I am definitively gone.
The beauty of having lived steaming out of blood.

By the time the party had turned to screams I had gone.
The cheerfulness and excitement of the afternoon dead as I here now lying.
The bullet had dug itself into the ground. An instant and appropriate grave for such a lively piece of lead. No head stone short of my corpse. The local wildlife would drag that away, in the case I wasn't lucky enough for a burial.

Entering Tamag

 The Horseman dismounted, took his rucksack and looked over at his two followers.
He nodded and they also got off their horses.
They placed the herbs down on the hard desert floor. Erdem blew an ember from a piece of wood he burnt.
Placing it inside the bowl.
Sangcar and Demircan his followers took turns blowing until the herbs were smoking.
The side of the bare hill obscured most of their bodies from the sun.
The pink yellow clay at this slightly higher elevation looked foreign when compared with the rest of the desert. The bare expanse they had spent weeks traveling over.

"When the herbs have burnt down we will make our entry into Tamag Geçit."
Sangcar and Demircan nodded. 
A bluster of wind kicked up accelerating the burning herbs, then a small explosion from within the bowl, the bowl overturning and exploding into little pieces. sparks flew.

"Praise worthy" Demircan muttered.
Sangcar pulled his sword, and Erdem stumbled higher into the hill to see if something had shot at them.
"It must be a sign that we can enter." Demircan declared.
"Ok lets march on. Leave the horses here tie them to the narrow rock."
As the three continued they rounded a terrace on the hill where faced by a two headed demon.

Canavar the wretched. He moved in a way that felt unnatural. Unholy.
"So three dumb lost men have come to be devoured, how convenient." Both heads sporting fork tongues that could reach out like arms.

"No we are not here to die, though we will breach Tamag to find our lost brother."
"You cannot talk to me, your words are as empty as my stomach, and it is time to eat"
Canavar twice the size of one man leapt upon Demircan biting him deeply where the shoulder met the neck. Using his other head to monitor the reaction of the other two.
"Let us attack" Erdem screamed.
Canavar let Demircan fall to to the ground holding his neck and panting from bloodloss.

Erdem struck a blow to the demon's pectoral, not causing any significant damage.
Sangcar attacked from the rear and drove his blade upward into the demon's leg.
"Wooooooooorrrrrr" Canavar roared and bled from his leg wound.
Aligning the claws of his right hand and aiming his hand at the sun they grew another inch longer. 
Erdem and sangkar were looking for an opening but the demon had both heads on them, Canavar sprang toward Sangcar and decapitated him in one foul movement. Erdem leapt forward and started swinging, landing a few nice cuts but not enough to separate Canavar from Sangar's headless body.
Canavar had his jaws locked over the stump as if it was all one grotesque animal.

Then Erdem realized the demon was still bleeding out from the leg. He dove and buried his sword into the demon's leg. The sword went right through.
"RRRRROOOOOOOONNNNNNN" Canavar roared again. Used his claw to take off Erdem's face. Erdem blocked losing a little flesh from his arms and bleeding badly.

"You will not stop us demon" Demircan rose and threw a dagger slicing one of Canavar's cheeks and ear.
Canavar groaned again and sprang 3 meters above them onto the next terrace of the hill.
"Nothing is granted except these words enchanted, you lose here just a tiny token of what you will lose in Tamag" Canavar's body began to vibrate and burst into small ember like flames.
He continued to sing. "In Tamag the very walls will extract your essence, the halls will corupt what's left of your soul"

Canavar stood straight, pulled the sword from his leg and threw it into the Sangcar's lifeless body.
"He was the lucky one ha ha ha ha..." The demon's body had fully healed. Playing his little game he continued to dance across the top of the terrace.
Erdem and Demircan took what they could and ran.

A shadowy gate came into view infront.
"Run through." Demircan and Erdem put their hands infront of themselves to feel for the Material of the gate. There was none. The men ran through sweating and bleeding.
The land darkened, it suddenly became obvious they were no longer on the earth anymore.

The desert had tree like structures rising up thirty to fifty meters.
The structures had branches but no foliage, they were made of some sort of rock.
Other creatures lived up on them, reptillian cats. 

"How are we to find our brother now Erdem?"
Demircan asked.
"We must find one of the sane undead, they will lead us to the groves of pity where the priest said he was to reside."

Their conversation was interrupted by an incredibly sized batlike creature whose face except for ears and nose was more reptillian than mammal. all scales no fur. 

"Get down" Erdem shouted.
They dove for the ground as the huge shape passed a few feet above the ground.
"Can we die here?" Demircan asked
"Lets not chance it."
The thing let out a low moan and passed by quickly disappearing into the darkness ahead.
"Better follow it."
"it's gone!"
the land became gradually darker almost like they were walking from dusk into night every kilometer made the sky look darker, visibility was good and for the meantime the land except for the large tree structures was empty and silent.

In the gloom Erdem spotted a figure hunched below one of the structures. 
"That looks like Sangcar."
They approached the figure who was sitting with his face in his hands.
"Is this a trap? There could be some sort of danger." Demircan cautioned.
"Sangcar is that you, you are whole again!" Erdem exclaimed.

Sangcar took his hands from his face, there were tears upon his face and a look of resignation.
"Hello friends, I will tell you this now. Although I sit here whole, this place is wrong. You should attempt to flee from here even without our brother Karagön."

Sangcar looked at them with anger. "If I had not followed you all here, I would be back home in Jarabulus with my wife and children."
Erdem chanted some words under his breath, while Demircan put his hand to his face assuming shame.
"I command you to show us the way to the groves of pity so that we may find and save Karagön."
Sangcar's face reddened "Sorry brothers this place is taking me over, you can see t happening to me, I am filled with guilt and anger. I cannot guide you. The lizard cats control me from the structure. They feed off my sadness. Look up in the rock."

Sure enough lizard cats in the rock tree were absorbing subtle light from Sangkar.
"Dig under the rock with your daggers, you will find a gift I have bestowed unto you. It is the last of my hearts love, it will protect you." With that Sangkar buried his face in his hands and continued to sob.

Erdem and Demircan began digging

Severing the clouds

 

The air is home
The hunt is alone
Labor of flight
each sense to hone

Distances outlying
speeds so dizzying
Prey never sees brutal incursion
the dive bomb art no distortion

raised to ride the winds
Epitomy predatory sins
A demon outcast
Worlds never outlast

Reeling through the draughts
surging with the blasts
getting high on the friction loud
running the current bound clouds

Lord Berners soul ember fed in a
line of fire across the horizon
cut the troposhere beak and scorn
motoring fearlessly beyond harsh storms

(Andy Levitt- The modest Peregrine)

Because you love nature

 Counting the yellow rods he picked up at the side of the narrow creek over a canopy of vines and semi arid evergreens. 
Footsteps came a short way away from the other side of the creek. 

"Hey can you tell us how to get back to the carpark" Toby McGill said.
So abrupt the alien had no time to cloak. The alien was wearing human clothes, though,
he turned his back so they would see his strange face.
"Keep on going, there is no path but you can follow the creek"
"Is that gold you are taking from the river?" Janet Mcgill asked

"No I'm testing different materials in the river, to check water purity." The alien answered
"Oh wow, is the creek poisoned or something? Why are you facing away from us?"
"I have a disease that has changed the structure and color of my face. I'll turn around but you guys will have to brace yourselves."
The Alien turned around slowly Janet raised fists to her mouth, Toby gaped.
"That's not a disease, you are an alien!"

The words gave a new meaning to gravity, he had been discovered.
Almost uttering a "no" in protest he felt the absurdity of denying it.

"You are not measuring the purity of the water are you?" Janet tagged.
"Well I'm actually collecting a material hidden tot he human eye and quite rare, these rods collect it from the margins of these narrow creeks"

"Can we cross and meet you in Person?" Toby asked excitedly.
The alien silently wretched, he'd liked humans but never close contact, their skin was smelly.
"I guess so but I cannot shake hands because of hygiene reasons O.K.
Janet elbowed Toby in the ribs. and whispered "It's a fucking Alien lets just get out of here, and how did you know it was a fucking Alien?"

Toby pretended not to listen and jumped over the narrow one meter gap of the creek.
Approaching the alien cautiously "Wow you are exactly what I expected."
"What do you mean?" The alien replied.
Something rustled in the trees from the other side. Janet screamed "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, there's something big over here!"

Out of the undergrowth bounded a sixty kilogram mountain lion.
Janet threw down her backpack and started backing away facing the lion.
"Just stay still" Toby shot.
The Lion cautiously started sniffing around Janet, Janet fell back and fainted.
The alien sprang like a frog near the mountain lion landing two meters from it.
"rrrrrrrrrrrrrowwwwwww" It turned on the alien.

The alien positoned a four fingered hand in the air above the lion. The Lion started to sway. It seemed to lose it's aggressiveness.
After a few more seconds Janet lifted her head.
"He's hypnotizing it"
"Quiet" Toby said.
The Lion slowly sat still swaying slightly.
Then lay and slept.

The alien quipped " Why are you all so shocked to see a mountain lion out here? this is it's habitat."
"Nature is just so strange" Janet got out after a pause to think.
"Do you mean alien?"

Clown through the fifth life

 The clown is partially obscured
in this our personal carnaval
Your mind a carousel
spinning

the clown's smile 
reflected in the opposing mirrors
The ones that in a dream of folly
represent the eternity

A nietzschean compound repetition
seventy one thousand lives
each mirror a mouth
with eyes with eyes

He's peeping albeit 
most of his face is hidden
Happy eyes
the tents cloth deflates

Too late for exit
Warm like a blanket
Itchy like flea mosquito
humid and balmy

Lost in the womb
The red tent
lost within 
the smell of popcorn and fried hotdogs vanish

ready yourself
for the new bid for life
New take on love
partially obscured for the entire journey

New mother
happy eyes wet and accepting
Clown society rigging failure
Tents collapsing

Face the external euphoria
retreat to the mirrors once again
attempt to Know yourself
Embed yourself in the competition afresh

winning some token animal
Or mug which surrenders to Koolade
Ego to flattery
tongue to sugar

Be reborn here
in this haunting carnaval
where each part of your life circulates each ride
queueing up glum and hopeful

womb warm like an oven
 The cord holds you as you spin round and round
I think I like it
I look out past the ride to where the mirrors stand

I see my reflection
that happy smile
Now the full face and smile is exposed
Thus I am the clown
 

Painting Johnny Iron's house

 I'd been waiting for 20 minutes for an Uber.
By the look of things on my phone, i'd be waiting much longer.
I looked down the street from the hospital I was at. I remembered an old friend, Johnny Irons.
Happy go lucky chap. 
"wanna ride?" Taxi cab cruising slowly window cracked open.
"No I think i'm going to visit a friend."

"Johnny are you home?" Noone was there, I let myself in. A one story wooden house spacey and simple.
Made a coffee and the sound of a v8 motor came bursting aggressively through the walls and windows.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" He gave em a confused hug not quite knowing the quotient of affection to put into it.
"I was up at the hospital" I answered.
"Oh I know how that goes, my Dad is there in the next room, his healths not great."
"Is he okay, I let myself in, you wanna check on him?"
"No he will be up soon, last night he went on a bender."
"Can't be good for the old fella"
"Lost his job and mum left him the same week."

We looked down at our coffee.
"Wanna help me paint?"
"Yeah why not?" I volunteered.
His sister Mary walked in from the street "Is Dad up yet?"
"No he'll be sleeping in, Bender."
"We've got to find him a job or he's going to go mad."

The deck in his back yard was well built.
"Perfect for summer evenings"
"Yep" Johnny responded.
"So how's work?"
"Bro I need to come clean, I also lost my job. Also hung over."
"Terrible news, do you want to come work at my farm"
He just looked at me as if offended.

"I just came back this morning from getting a new tattoo."
"what it is it?" 
Johnny lifted his shirt from the waist to reveal a set of skulls hovering below his belly button.
"Oh wow" I pretended.
"scored some primo hash, wanna smoke?"
"Nah man left that stuff, it brings me down."

Our paintbrushes slowly made their way through the entire coat.
"what makes you make fucking shit decisions every single time man? You speak like your homeless your close to forty five, you still do drugs and get tattoos."
"Oh harsh bro"
"Yeah you are getting old and it seems you just don't care. All your problems seem to stem from the fact that you just don't give a fuck about anything, you didn't even ask me why I was at the hospital" I added
His father walked in "What the fuck are you talking to my son like for faggot?"
"Oh you must be the shitkicker father, did you not teach your son to be a man?"
"Fuck you arsehole "He picked up the whole can of paint and threw it at my face.
"Ah, get your Dad under control."
Johnny took a swing at me but missed.
His father exchanged blows with me until we were both exhausted, he fell down and opened his cigarette pack. I positioned myself to kick him in the head as hard as I could but instead.
"You even gave up the fight so you could feed your smoking habit." I sneered.
"Ill get my shotgun" Johnny ran into the house 

I ran toward the back gate that connected onto another adjoining to the hospital. Tripped on the last step and hurt my shoulder.
"Go get fucked losers, where do you think you are, this is not some fucking slum. Shitkickers."
As I walked into the street bleeding head. I looked right to where the road would take me home, and looked back up toward the hospital, maybe it was the paint fumes, but it seeemed that six story building was grinning down at me.

On my way back to the hospital, the taxicab man passed by me.
"Shoulda taken the ride chap." 

Cordiality before the rain

 "are you coming in next week, same time" The thin student asked enthusiastically as he opened the cafe door to leave.
"Sure" I said.
"I have to go and get my yaught repaired, but I think i'm going to stay for another coffee." Arnold said as if showing interest.
"We can have a class while you have your coffee." I said.
The door opened and Marcio entered with a huge suitcase, greasy hair, thick glasses and heavy Brazilian accent. "Hi Arnold, let's get some privacy and talk about your english?"
He nodded and the two sat over by the window looking out of the ground floor of the condominion.
"Did you think you were the only english teacher here" Andressa said from behind the cafe counter, bursting into laughter before finishing her last sentence.
"He made out we were having class, though?"
"You must have done something to upset him."

The summer rains came in at 17pm and another resident appeared closing umbrella somehow opening the door with his back and circling in.
"Hi Teacher are you available in a few hours?"
"I have to leave before the rains, Let's set a time later near my house?"

"You can't leave" Andressa said bringing a cup of coffee over to my bench.
"This is from Arnold" Arnold gave a wave by the window.
"I'm here looking for work, people are scheduling classes then not turning up, postponing and giving excuses. What would you do if you were me."
"I'd find another job." She said directly.

"Good advice" I grabbed my stupid brown teachers bag pushed the door open, drizzle was attempting to set in. Dusk was already on me. The streets were chaos with traffic.
I heard quick rehearsed footsteps behind me.
"Hey boss You need to slow down and see what's happening" a street thug.
I turned and nervously continued away from the building my back to him.
Pretending not to listen and inadvertently encouraging him even more.
"You need to slow down and hand over that bag you got right there."
His eyes returning from his last crack hit. "I can shoot you from here"

The street was full and I was going to get mugged. He came to my side weaving through cars.  His gun looked so well organized, his face looked a complete mess. 
"You can remember me tomorrow when you wake up, or you can remember me from hospital, if you don't die" He insisted.
"Ok here's my bag" I gave in, no one was going to save me and no cops or security were in the vicininty. 
Before i could pass it to him, an oncoming car from my transgressor's rare hit him lifting him half a meter above the car and sending him colliding into the gutter futher injuring his arm on a car parked there.

The car that hit him stopped ten meters down the street and reversed a further five meters in my direction. "You don't earn enough to be giving your money away to bandits." The smile, the irony the unexpected surprise. I attempted a response but shock kept me mute. Arnold in his luxury company car.
"See you next week for classes, Andre my other teacher didn't work out."
"What do you mean he was great, you guys seemed to be getting a long really well." I protested.
"Bad breath"
"Did you tell him so that he wouldn't make the same mistake with the next one?"
He laughed imperviously.
 

 

Boris view of the underworld

 Eric held hands with the low cloud out on his front lawn. A ritual done far after his passing. His ghosts light glow led the birds to swoop and perch acceptingly nearby.
His hand dragged against that cloud, stubborn brushy white hanging down like old man's beard from hemi matenga.
His other hand touching the more subtle whisps, a low whistle came from the old pursed lips as he edged forward trying to get a better view of the thing all call God.
"Bang" His soul exploded across the lawn, a passing ray of sun lit the scene up as divine. The fragments of him rose and collected into a large droplet liquid like.
Then flattened into a sheet expanded over the lawn where I the robust cat Boris would play in the sun.

Eric is floating down seddon street touching the light patchy drizzle and often recoiling. Now crawling on it's corners down to the local RSA. A giant cloak of a spirit.
The old times he spent with warbuddies filling up ashtrays and emptying longnecks. Animal loudmouths rivaled by smooth periods of boredom and predictable "Remember the times" Boris points DID YOU TRANSCEND THE BULLSHIT, you old redskinned father of mine.

Ambling down here onto Elizabeth street petrifying the midnight teen half drunk back home from partying. Almost in his old form then back into the invisible blanket. As day and night and time interfere with your senses. He floated over the tin roof through all the confusion covering the building as if to own it. To reclaim thise little moments lost in the past.
He covered it all and the sky shot blue all of a sudden and the night fled like a cowardly child.
He hung above it all there.

The old poems he'd once recited that hid and reminded of old loves, ways things were and could be. The saint Luke's church rocked and shuddered like a gravestone being robbed.
The moss fell off in clumps, he cried out to be put into a body again.
Elizabeth street suddenly narrowed, and he could see me up in the hill somewhat obscured by the scrappy last remains of native forests as I crawled my way down, where it was still night time, and awesome blues on his side.

His soul ballooned and took the shape of an old rusty school bus, driving across the railway lines, the hidden boundary, the transcendent between an older more forgotten piece of waikanae and an absolutely ridiculous attempt at a modern present. Boutique taste of hobbits.

He got stuck between a real estate office and the corner petrol station to Ngaio road. The bus froze into a block of ice and dawn was called over the buses barely audible radio.
It froze into a giant ice block and took up a huge space.
My purring self wasn't far away, the old naiivety falling from me like furr during the molting seasons  reinventing time hair by hair second by second on walks home.

I treaded carefully to the railway lines and found him there. I looked on like one might look on a holy shrine, yet the flickering spirit that kept me breathing in the dark now surged forth, only interested in hunger.
Hunger to devour the future and devour the past.
Crossing the railway lines the smile automatic shot across my mouth like an insant opiate.
I could see the countless past lives emanating off the ice of the old man.
How many were contained inside of me, just the the nine?- WILL YOU ANSWER THAT QUESTION?
Sunrise almost at it's Apex, then disappeared, God bored again. I licked my wrist as darkness slowly got the upper hand, are we going backwards?
The twilight of worlds or converging purgatories?
Silence and night captured the land again in an instant this time.I imagined a hawk on hare a shock to the system. My soul bounced in witness to a million deaths dragged up a spinning vortex a million tones of red. I held the low mist alas no consolation, what a familiar nightmare. I couldn't tell if In my cat body was observing the experience from eyes or eating it between my fangs.

Each mouthful of an endless meal.
Then a flash another thunder clap, it just turned midday.
Eric bathed in an afternoon sun, melting away those tonnes of ice. Sun a february had once saved, as if mocking us, Time was obviously speking to us in every tense.
Eric started to laugh now from secrets that had distilled into jokes over decades gone.
Such guffawing that the road between us opened up creating a fissure in the tarmac. I crawled inside like a moth into a shed.

Inside the ground I could see living rivers of the past, many scenes as if on a glistening screen. Decades of peace and silence flowing through the reflection of many timelines. The walls of the rock inside full of eyes, mineral rock and discarded treasures. The shame and pride of many in those hoarded once coveted material absurdities.

I surfaced naked furrless embracing a cool night air this time it seemed I could harness it, it would not escape into day again. The city lights confused and perturbed the way they should be, said the predator in me. Instead of the feline pelage there was a sleek layer of transparent underskin.
I left the abandoned highway few cars ever travel on anymore. It didn't matter I was invisible.
I slipped into houses observing the people and their strange habits, little decorated neighborhoods, self important. yet predictable.

I looked up close at their faces checking their frowns and smiles. Not true smiles, not gratitude at the little piece of paradise they've been given, just little peice of peep over the hedge for validation.
Smiles that were fragile, smiles dressed in will you like me?
Reading the muscles in their cheeks and necks looking deep in them.
The colors of their hearts the unfortunate forgery of emotion. 

I heard the old Eric yelling and cackling "Just lucky you are a cat".

Gene hackman

 A barrel of a bad guy
some lieutenant of a cartel or crooked cop
holding a submachine gun
an excuse to piss himself laughing

A character faces a gruesome death
He was the quintessential villian
The concerned look position questioning
Suddenly nonchalant and unconvinced yes that kind of bird

the back of his mind a million files
reading back into his eyes
showing a few of those nice tricks that take the masses in
he'd seen before effort keep the smirk from appearing

Gene the serious giving the precise instructions
making sure you knew it was your life you were forfeiting
It's a shot gun blast in an instants decision
lifting the arms and blowing the body back

a moustasche through those funky decades
the hippy turned to scotch
enemy of the state
mastermind of humanity's end

what will we do?  who do we go to?

 without you.

You the shilling

 Look at yourself the roundness
the lines etched aroung the circumference
we echange ourselves too often 
its dizzying

And into the slot you fall and the lights come on
Face is royal you echo the sovereign
tears wouldn't rust it
left somewhere under the playground swing

from the distracted falling
hitting the soft bark flicking a piece up
just to conceal it enough
until the hunger of one finds a glint

sunlit day optimistic pauper
greasy hands permanent grin
not broken or even shaken
picking you up thumb and forefinger

to spend you on candy
to keep those hands greasy
and the energetic body that must nose
curiosity such a power

and sticky you fall again
into the cash register
to be collected with the rest of the change
clanging loudly as you silently endure the journey

A novelty crop

 Together again after a good few years.
"So what to do you think about the farm Simon" Mike asked.
"It's well organized" Simon replied
His hands separating space inside the pot, for the rooted pineapple to fit into.
"Just another million to go."
"Well if you need any help just let me know."
"Cheers" Simon finished with.

Boss trudged in, in his gumboots neutral beardless sixty year old face.
"How are you getting on?"
"I am almost done with this lot, do you know where I can get the next ones?"
He pointed to the other side of the outdoor potting shed.
"Go over there, Ellie will help you out."

"So pineapples in Ireland aye"  
"Yeah apparently it's nothing knew"
"What do you mean?" Simon asked
"Well centuries ago the pineapple was like a status symbol. So they erected glass houses so they could cultivate them"

Simon pointed up to the sky with was a creamy cold grey.
"You wouldn't be able to get them to survive these winters."
The boss nodded and left.
Scooping out the soil Simon continued to transplant the pineapples pups to bigger pots.
Placing them on the wooden pallet.

"EEEEEEE kaplooooorrrrrr."
Simon turned to see Mike's grinning face in the tractor.
He'd come to pick up the pallet. He was doing one of his bizarre sound effects.
He raised the pallet, spun the tractor and drove it to the tunnel house and lay it inside.

The thick cake like mud made deep impressions around the gumboot footsteps as Simon went to request another hundred young plants.
"What's that you need more? already?"
Simon attempted to retain his need for sarcasm.
Ellie could almost see it. 
"Yeah, I can probably get another 100 done before day's end."

"Ill bring the next ones over soon, get the hose and start watering in the ones ya done.
Don't pay your friend Mike any mind, He's always acting the maggot around here."
"Ellie why do people want to grow tropical things in zones that are not tropical, isn't that just bonkers?"
"No I'd say it was the very meaning of life." Ellie being cryptic.
"What do you mean by that?" 
"Well everyone wants something they can't have. Heat in winter, cool in summer. Anything you lack drives you mad."

"Pineapples are just another attempt to glorify."
Ellie ignored my comment. "I've been working here for forty years and every year they bring in something new. Last year it was Feijoas"
"Will I also work here with my friend Mike long?"
"A good few years, we usually shut for winter. But you and Mike are hobbyists. Too focused on life to worry about the plants that died."
Ignorant gardeners? Is that what were?

We went to the break room reddish brown wooden floor catching an illusive sun ray. Long curtains like huge dragnets catching the dust of the room. The four of us slurped weak milk coffee to the beat of some nineties radio station. you could almost predict the song before it played. I looked at the ceiling and praised the empty space of the room above, as the mess among us would only please a hoarder.

From camp to field

 Yaqub was 19, humble honest and non judgemental.
His parents had sent him to an Islamic militant' s camp.
Where he would be trained for the conflicts near Yemen, Jordan and new fighting breaking out in Egypt.
He spent the day sprinting and jumping. Paintball skirmishes and firearms training with live ammunition.

His Parents perished in a bomb blast in downtown Damasco. Accelerating his extremist beliefs.
After 13 months in training he shot his commanding officer and took over the compound with some of the other cadets. imprisoning any of them that didn't show enthusiasm in joining them.

They took off to the front to join the exact group that bombed his parent's house killing them. They were told to fall in under one of the Isis's existing commanders. They ignored. They took orders but kept themselves separate. Their little victories were starting to get attention.

Seventeen young men highly disciplined but still immature. reckless. Took food and weapons from the main group. Who would sit them down and show them where to go on the map.
Then start a huge fight over the fact Yaqub wouldn't give up his position as a squad leader.
Of course his followers backed him up, believing Yaqub was the only leader they could have.
The isis command didn't want to lose it's groups of colaborators and Yaqub's group wasn't the only successful one, most of the army was formed from little clans.

Yaqub's group went to ground for the night in Mazzeh to attack the airport the very next day.
They were under fire from mortars and heavy machine gun, that fired from a kilometer off, but still reached the low walls and hedges they were hding among.
Yaqub ordered the group to move in a crouching position toward the airport.  Some were holding their kevlar vests stolen from prior battles to their faces, the odd bullet landed in the middle of them.

They heard voices ahead, Yaqubs second in command Abdel went slithering through low but thick grass with one other to check it out. It was another company aligned with theirs. They identified themselves awkwardly finding half the company injured by the machine guns up ahead.
They called Yaqub and the group up, the machine guns ahead had  temporarily desisted.
"Abdel take the wounded to cover, we will go on to capture these guns ahead"
The commanding officer of the group they were helping protested. "We will stay here, you don't need to look after us. We will not be following you."
Yaqub looked at the men from the other company, who seemed relieved that they had turned up. 

He unholstered his pistol and shot the other officer in the head. 
"Abdel is your new commanding officer" You will follow him or die here with your camel turd officer."
Yaqub didn't look back and led all of the men still standing through a drainage ditch.
The five men manning a machine gun nest and assault vehicle knew they were being hunted, so they took off sprinting.
Two were downed in the ensuing barrage from Yaqub's men.

Yaqub instructed the mainforce to come in and occupy. 
The two groups of soldiers loaded the guns and supplies the enemy had left into the ferret vehicle. A fight broke out between the new members of Yaqub's group.
It was settled one on one. Yaqub's guy lost the fist fight. He went over to the man lifted him up and told him to accept defeat. The man spat on the ground. 
Without hesitation Yaqub hit him in the nose with the butt of an Ak he pulled off another soldier.
"There will be no distinction in the group, except for enemy kills."
The man slowly rose "Fuck you Yaqub I've served you for many months and it means nothing to you."
Yaqub turned the gun on him, looking at him openly.
"Do you really want to die?"
The man started sobbing, Yaqub approached him close put the barrel against his chest and let one round burst right through him. The man almost uttered a sorry before his body fell flat on the ground.

Some of the man's friends gasped appalled. 
The group took the vehicle and a trailer with the wounded to a small abandoned compound outside the city limits, were Yaqub was hoarding weapons ammo and spoils of war.
He imagined this warfare he had conducted would continue for many years. 
It almost broke his hardened heart to learn, the dictator Bashar Al Asad had left for Russia.
But war! War would never cease in these lands, it naturally sprang up like destructive geysers.

A plastic Hoplite

 The best we can expect
Is not to be given the thing we crave
The thing that makes a head spin for desire
That's the thing you need to lose

For when you get it
self congratulations and other sure lies
don't add anything to your road or garden
just a big bright burst of distraction

convinced it's pleasure
break it up and dillute it
try to make it last longer
violating the limits

Look at the plastic figurines
Move me with your hands
No life in us
yet your imagination

Puts frowns on our mouths
hides fangs hark whole
Makes the land go dim 
Retrieves the treasure one army stole

Best you can expect manipulate a few lost souls
we've got a river teeming with them
throw a net and bring them in
choosing the few to grow on

gobble the rest fodder
in the process of playing god
shaping the key to the next dimension's
living hidden door

Lucky for you it's doesn't unlock
claim it is a defect or design flaw
It's a liter of destiny you can't swallow
each swig  cheap and shallow

The best you can expect is to play with toy soldiers
I stand in line for you as an unshapen god
move us into position invent a lore
verily commence invisible war

Lucky for you it's not enchanted
No butterfly effect to these musings
No far off conflict conjured
on behalf of this pretend

Yet outside eyes witness
vein themselves onto each sentiment
each chapter in your story
each violent outcome

Unseen eyes light up
live in your words
and movement of figurines
I seem to gain a soul and purpose

Kettle top

 Through the dim yellow light with our picks and shovels. Equipment to help us hold up and stabilize the cave. It was often a fight between the aggressive among us to who owned what.
Reminding us of old gold miners fighting over a tiny nugget.
Dust kicks up at my pick strike a few more centimeters deeper. Unconvering an ancient ocean fossil.
We stopped for a break, was it friday optimism or were we getting close to discovering what was inside the pit.

The specialist woman, twenty six year old Charlotte told the story.
"In the past much of this area we are standing on belonged to the Cretaceous era, we are hoping to find the remains of any marine animal, it's not just a pay day. For those of you working for the university you will suddenly have new credentials, your names will have weight."
 All of us hung on her words.

As we went back to digging with a fresh sense curiosity.
A guilty tickets for the lottery feeling.
That day we found nothing.
Leaving the site at 16pm as the sun was setting passing all of the attempts to dress the city in something it was not. The north such a piece of perfection unto itself. A reason suicide was popular, not the lack of vitamin D?

How can a sense of humor and boasting merge to be the socal proof of a man. Looking at the hired help, all unquestioning sports fanatics in their late twenties. Shit kickers who didn't care about reaching the find, simply there for their hourly rate or piece work.
"I can drink three bottles of whiskey." One said.
"I had to fight five men at once" Another.
It was like they were talking themselves up so they might survive a quiet evening at the local tavern.
I wouldn't join the crew at the bar on that weekend. I couldn't face the lonliness of my small thirty five meter apartment in Kiruna, I rode back down to the site and spend the afternoon and early night digging there. 

Yellow lantern light lighting up this part of the cave, resembling an old shed with hardened clay floors.
Each pick blast hardly scratching the surface. My body shuddering.
I head back home before ten as a few of the other diggers were leaving the local tavern.
"You've been digging again, you crazy old man!" They could see the gear I was carrying.
I never replied. The universe is different for the silent, for they just observe and let conclusions mature over time. Absent from the response. overtime the ear picks up small but audible tones of fear in their last syllables.

The one they called the gardener always boasting. The Broms, exquisite twins both with symmetrical beauty and sharp wits.
I got to the job again on monday unpacking my gear on the floor, the three of them approached me.
"what were you doing on saturday night? Did you really go to the dig by yourself?"
"Yeah I just want to make some progress so we can start studying this thing" The low volume of my voice had them lean in further, my tone was cordial yet assertive.

The gardener pointed to where I'd been working. "He's reached the top of the fossil, might have to bring in the pointing trowels" He said making my small progress into an opportunity to project his self loving charisma, he spoke as if teasing himself. Do they learn this from their fathers?

The broms twins Lynn and Leah congratulated me and dished out coffee to all of us. The rest of team would be here soon, so making a little more progress together deeper would hide the fact I didn't have a life.
By the end of the day it was obvious we were dealing with a crustacean identified and estimated to have lived ten million years to the Miocene, I was ecstatic. The gardener didn't look very impressed though.
with the exception of the twins their faces bitter as if losing a competition.

Gardener's accusing tone lost all charisma."All this work for some old crab not ten million years old, I thought you said this area was from the cretaceous." The Charlotte said nothing. 
The hired hands and I continued digging, the twins went to get renkott for an early dinner, Charlotte joined them. When they got back the hired hands were gone. It was just me.
I looked up smiling despite my stinging wrists and exhausted arms.
They asked in an accusatory tone "The dig is only ten million years old, why are you so happy?"
"This is everyones first dig is it not?" I questioned.
The girls admitted with anticipation.
"Why do you want to suddenly have the best dig on your first attempt?"
"Well so we can make names for ourselves" Charlotte said bluntly.

Something stirred in the twins, Lynn spoke up "You mean it's a good start."
I said nothing, ate my last mouthfull of reindeer meat and left.
My bicycle tyres appreciated the flat smooth roads of Kiruna. Life was sometimes like that.
A handful of grateful people might stop to observe and then delight such a reprieve from the rollercoaster life often is.

On my way home I got to the greatest gift of all, Kebnekaise the first light sprinklings of snow atop it.
I called it the couple because of the two separate peaks.
Darkness calmed me, I forgot the disappointment of this beautiful view disappearing.
Back to the small apartment to sleep off the compacted exhaustion.

The next morning I arrived, the twins had arrived before me. Looking dismayed.
Leah gave me the bad news "Charlotte and gardener have left to go work on another dig."
"They've officially signed off" Lynn added.
"Is this dig ours then?" I asked.
They nodded. 
"Any cowboys to dig out the periphery?"
"Yeah, but we are thinking of leaving too." Almost simultaneous.
"Lets give it two days, Charlotte and Gardener will spend a week just setting up." I used all my force to convince them.
Reluctantly the twins got to work as the few remaining hired hands began to arrive.
The work became more and more tedious the closer we got to the remains.
I knew the twins would blame me for wasting their time on a mediocre dig.
I decided to spare them and called the heritage board that afternoon to check the dig the following day.

I met the official early before the twins could arrive that wednesday morning.
Brush and trough in his hands, eyepiece attached to his head.
"So this is crustacean, dating back to the Miocene?" The official tagged
I nodded.
He got down on one knee and instructed me to crouch as well. we started brushing together. The twins came in bemused.
"What is going on?" Lynn asked
"We are analyzing the dig" I answered as the official kept brushing and adjusting his eye piece.
He brushed continuously for a good 30 minutes.

Stood up, adjusted his pants, took off his eye piece, laid down the brush and affirmed, "This find is not rare neither is it so ancient. However it is in incredible condition, this cave has provided protection. The museum will offer a high reward for this. You will be recieving commendations for this."

The twins beamed with excitement. 

"Shall we inform Charlotte and Gardener?" I tested, in my quiet voice.

 

 

On the table

 The waves of pain increase the brow temperature
The heart raged foreign and peturbed
Incompatible unrecognized
the familiar space within the atria

Now a distorted shelter
where a young man would hide
in every intoxication to glean tolerance 
to an abrasive world

Waves of pain making it hotter in here
Bizarre Jester picture show has hijacked my eyes
I used to talk my way out these things now just cackles
crows skin under the feather rubbing and corrupting

The furious blades moving at the speed of light
To carve me shape me into something semiliving
then display me falling on my own broken bones
Infront of these human versions of success 

who stand passports ready
As I lay soiled and yet not buried
shooting into some outer dimension
where sense has been tainted

Could our great host interrupt the unnecessary failure here
The severity of this strange tunnel of suffering

distortions conspire each a kitchen waiter
towel folded on arm serving insanity
insisting in mixed tones that abruptly contrasted
until I black out and see those approval seeking faces

burning and cutting pushes me to lose my breath
voices echo eyelids open in hope yet nothing exists

even closer even more helpful looking
then losing their feathers once again
posing their crows skin the current trend
Other tables applaud

It's not a hospital anymore
It's a restaurant I'm tray bound
I've been served onto the table
therefore mercy won't be more than a glaze

waves of pain return unbearable heat
Tension flurries zero relief
echoing through my skeleton
pressurizing my organs

Confusion she said was the opposite
The lost child whose ghost could utter at dusk 
to mention abandoned in church of falling dust
then fading for neither light nor dark had claimed her

She would not anesthetize those waves of pain
Merely waking dream silent distraction from the insane
The excrutiating orchestra playing life is finished
through the perfect then grimly diminished

Oh feed that scar

 You've let me slither into this world
were there sentries or guards is it shock?
Did you leave these sacred doors unlocked
Was it I who was truly supposed to breach

Or another creature more destructive
more camoflage over me as tomb
moonlight waking the womb
day break and birth

A serpent infiltrating the farm
hunger is a language aromatic fresh
Deep through veins muscle and flesh
arteries have a job to flow like me

The night covers my tracks
you've let me through
No one forced you into
graceful invitation

Damp from storms
leaping on rooftiles
like giant reptiles
that once existed

Here I stand in the middle
pretending you have a goal or end
I arrived and the gate was open
carelessness milk

flight was sullen yet delicious
gravity left for a moment
love deepened and the distant storms
applauded

Mocking the future

Tropical dell sunlight enters talks to the leaves
wind has been stolen by winged theives
The hobbyists crowd around the overgrown crypt
asking the guide between appropriate sips

all of us and our curious words eagerly
blitzed by the heat worshipping it secretly
taking on a big cup of strong coffee to stand us up for the day
get to the bottom an insect crawls out of the last mouthful bay

Forest vapor and the myriad of noises
seek our senses an unknown foe
Those thousands of years ago
when these hills were beaches

life under a million roots to teach us
A crypt with runes in ancient sarcasm
Historians fantasies sledge hammer orgasm
the humidity contributes giddy balmy morning

branches stir migrating animals in undergrowth
Predators and parasites follow closely to host
Prey is what they have evolved into
Spreading predictably across the earth

to breed and be regularly eaten
bones the forest floor rots for seed
canopy shading the crypt despite the heat
Predator's quintessential reality

shade and stealth a creed
the prey a clumsy society

The fool that takes you in(The human mission)

 We sat on the long new white sofa.
In heaven with an older fool. In his living room with that ultra high ceiling. Other couples wandering about, counting their blessings.
Outside through the window we could see the field where other couples were playing some eternal game of hide and seek. 
Ships came and went every few centuries usually offloading more and more.
In the state we were in we seemed no better than farm animals.
Simple satisfactions, snacks and flattery replayed.

Was this the sandpaper to finish the job
Was this the world chiseling out our impurities.
Or shaping us into the mess the modern world had left us in, before we left their time.

The fool came out and served us tall bread with sugary coating.
He had it all, hundreds of loyal friends an expanding family and a certainty I wanted to get to the bottom of to verify truth.
I took my first bite and decided it was as airy and empty as the front room. Bathed in brightness.
But all that left my lips in word form were the casual pleasantries.

 Arousing no descernible suspicions. And so the game of this place continued. 
The cakes and promises, the cities outside that continued to rise on the millenia. Beautifying a reality already beautiful.

Yet why were we still animals?
obsessed with communicating niceties, feeding and amusing ourselves with the same tasteless airy atmosphere? Hadn't we ascended? If so, wouldn't we be obsessed with loftier and more meaningful ways of existing?

Is this the land people pay a tithing for?
Is this eternal bliss?
Glasses toast and the room is empty
Souls reunite in freshly painted living rooms, a heavenly white, reflecting the rays from some form of ethereal star.
"How much of the human mission did you complete" The fool pointed at me.
"Oh about half" I muttered, the room went silent. I was supposed to have lied. There was no recourse to expell me so they would just have to pretend I had met the quota, without even knowing what got me through the gates to begin with.

It's not a place of curiosity, it's a place of thick layered sweetness with just enough space between to prevent mold. Will we become the paint? Will we become the glow?

The ships that arrived and left frequently seemed grimey. Would I forfeit this wondrous place just to witness dirt and contrast.
 I had spent enough millenia in those blessed fields looking for treasures, or whatever it was our holiness preordained we hunt down. Occupying the decorated infinities and winding down the restless souls until they become like house furniture in these incredible towers.
Would I enjoy these aggressive tones of white light within the this heavenly lounge. The unfulfilled need for glowing peace, eons of cake and compliments.

"How much of the human mission did you complete?" The question is like the dull authoritative brandname on the safe that guards my old dead human heart. It wasn't positioned as an inquisition. But an opportunity to glorify myself among the gathered human journeyed souls partaking in these decade long afternoon tea parties.

The fool took me aside his concerned tone failed to waken caution.
"What is your question? You are restless among us. Do you need some kind of answer to find peace here?" He offered the question openly and warmly.

"What is hell like?" I asked.

Rosalind's brow

 Rosalind brought her family to the lodge next to the beach. One of the expectations was everyone would be happy. As most look to the mother to provide some sort of stimulation. Children in their adulthood as dependent as caged wingless birds. Waiting on feed and water.
The day started well and they almost got out the door to get the beach for the afternoon.
Drizzle set in just before lunchtime when the family's youngest daughter was waking.
Father commented to the rest of the family. "what is she still doing in bed?"
The silence condemned him. As the question repeated inside their town house several times a week. Becoming an abrasive annoyance. The son with his girlfriend would shrug.
An incredibly useless attempt at correcting her behaviour.
mother Rosalind had no comment at all, as if the subject itself was foreign.

Over carbohydrated on a another hangover, a few well directed puns, redundant questions and out the door they all clambered. Not ten meters out the drizzle predicted on the weather forecast they didn't bother reading had started. Groans of protest as if God himself was floating beside them to take on their complaints. "I guess we'll just have to go back."
"I'm not going in this crap, It's probably going to get worse anyway." Rosalind snarled.
The youngest daughter grinned took out her cellphone and got onto the serious business of watching short videos of accidents, bad taste jokes, pseudo science and curiosities that had absolutely no practical value for her life.

The clouds did set in, apathetic tones of light and dark grey copulating softly to produce a drizzle that wasn't strong enough to be rain.
They piled back into the little lodge room they were renting. Chose their corners and hibernated into their cellphone scrolling. The humidity and unwashed clothes had conjured a suspicious aroma, the odd burst of cigarette smoke distraced them from.
The mother made herself busy, washing the late brunch dishes, mopping the floor in a way that would you have convinced she'd majored in university at it.

The whinging didn't start until mid afternoon where the anxious mother had positioned the events of the day as a cause of her husband's lack of organization. The truth was she was as happy to not have left as much as the youngest daughter, and later when the drinking would start she would have more energy she had thought.
Self deception and intentionally creating an unnecessary conflict itself was like an early cocktail and novella. Offering the necessary self vindication, family drama and histrionics of an aspiring martyr.
Which to her luck wouldn't exact a beating or even a shouting match, but rather elaborate mocking that her husband poured on carefully, as if preparing a cake.

This would arouse mild amusement from the young couple and the daughter, who would chuckle contentedly.
Often this cut Rosalind through. It ruined her attempt at being the virtuous higher authority sent by some divine angel to open their hearts and mind. Success in the father wasn't discipline, focus or any conventional qualities. He could use words to strip one man naked exposing everything including things he wasn't even aware of. And in the same mouthful of words bring to life his greatest qualities. 

The clouds broke and a thin blue strip began to form and expand.
So the family collected all of their sun umbrellas and other such gear, to take off to the beach.
The click of the beer can and subtle fizz that erupted almost declared permission that all could relax and enjoy themselves. The unbearable southern January sun bore down on them forcing beads of sweat across shoulders and faces.
The puns came in pairs and then triples, sarcastic laughter casually burst out on the more obvious directed double meanings.
On the sand they all settled down. the sky cooperated, the tight mouth of Rosalind loosened to give concessions to the weather, the sand and the sea.

And in that moment the clumsy messy morning of heavy indifference and lethargy completely subsided, smiling became automatic. every organ slacked, every vein eased. 
Rosalind's pinched brow released completely. Luck or illusive happiness had chosen them, as if looking for it was absurd or impossible.

Chancellery

 These long dark halls
extensions of what history attempts to provide us
Decorated railings staircases to shadows
Huge empty spaces

inviting with their echoes
Numbing with their silence
Formal with their patterns
built for events and legal matters

Like a hollow adolescent
willing to be possessed 
by an eldritch entity
Stale air, it's bad breath

One may marvel at the years it took
To erect such a token of architecture
Yet even the simple pedestrian may comment if caught
He gives such an enigmatic place no second thought

Heart in space

 The box in my heart is vibrating
small square dark box
cellphone alarm
unwelcome emotions

Still not on earth
somewhere hovering in space
a few million kilometers from the solar system
Purposefully satisfyingly lost

Back on earth
the heart is subject to gravity
and serious illusions
so just let it float

Every limit provided false comfort
The heart may not be bound

Leadership is fun

 I followed Putin up the stairs
we walked past the feast
And up to the formal government videogames
waiters and security guards dance frantically

Presidents show their human frailties
in disgusting obvious shows of  hopelessness
Mere children competing for attention
In great dim halls of written histories

blacklisting and smearing
boycotting and feeding the sludgegulpers
every piece of fabricated filth
through threads and tubes and audiofiles

A pauper's excuse

 Lu Yi and I were approached the expansive delta, we had no way of knowing the depth of the water.
After a brief arguement. We thought it would be better to take off our boots and try to make it across with our pants rolled up. 
Wading into the delta the underwater vegetation cushioning our feet. The current quite strong in some parts. We could see little flecks of houses in the distance it was the city. I looked back at Lu yi's worried face.
"Lets go back, it looks like it might rain."
I'd never seen her so worried before, back in our hometown she seemed the most courageous of any of the girls. Now she was in an all out state of panic.
I walked her back to the water's edge.
"Do you want me to come back here and get you in about a week?"
she stirred "I think it's just better for me to go back home."
"Well you know what to expect I guess, same controlling people, our families can barely afford to feed us."

The consternation across her face was almost humorous to me, I was never able to appreciate caution.
"Come on, you heard Zhan's story about the opportunties and great wonders of the city."
She reluctantly caved for a second time. So we waded out, once again.
Perhaps we would have avoided calamity by not having hesitated for so long, hindsight is a psychological kick in the face.

The dark clouds had really accumulated, the sky began spitting, timely Lu Yi began her "I told you sos".
After thirty kilometers of trudging endless rice paddies, it was like water over a ducks back. As I pictured the feathers of the ducks back amusingly, In that sudden tragic shock of a moment, a thick layered torrent swept us prostrate.
The first thing that went was my boots. I had no idea where Lu Yi had ended up.
An hour of being washed around in those waters. Onto a huge pile of debris and grass. I gripped the mess as the water slowly subsided.   

Exhausted, I walked toward the smoke in the sky, under great overgrown evergreens that used to part of some abandoned estate. Tall thick grass up to my chin, using a staff I'd fashioned out of a branch to beat my entry into the grasses incase of mangshan vipers that nested there.

Coming out on the other side, I spent the night in a park, under some pergola that offered just enough shelter from the random passing showers.
Morning a cloudy greyish yellow. I was barefoot, I had lost my bag, my money and I was filthy.
Hunger slowly set in.
I made my way down the street parallel to the park into a middle class neighbourhood that sprawled out for many kilometers.
Following the wider avenues I found my way into town.

I tried to ask for some food at a local convenience store. The storekeeper had laughed at me and told me to leave. I felt pathetic, but I thanked him for his time, as he stared at me cynically.
"If you steal anything, I'll catch you beat you and take you to the police station myself."
"I lost my money and belongings in the flood, yesterday" I replied trying to hold the bitterness back.
The storekeeper looked away, ignoring me.
A few kilometers down the road getting closer to the city center I smelt the delicious aroma of fried food.
I hid outside a restaurant behind a wooden fence and some shrubs. I knew begging wouldn't get me anywhere. I was at the back of the restaurant, I could see their trashcans, as much as I abhored the thought of scavenging here, it had already been 24 hours since my last meal.

The door flicked open and scruffy thirty year old man came loading scraps into the main bin.
I secretly thanked God and when the swing doors closed behind him, I made my way carefully to the bin.
It was full of the uneaten fried potato chips and pieces of meat and salad. I saw a whole uneaten piece of battered fried chicken. This was it, peel the batter off like a perect cover and eat the chicken inside.
Oh was it good? Incredibly! Until I got to near the bone and noticed it was almost raw. I threw it down and cursed at the same time as spitting the last mouthful out. It had been thrown out because it was undercooked. I was twenty nine years old but it seemed I had to learn every life lesson over again one by one. starting with listening to Lu Yi.

I got water from the tap next to the bins and cleaned myself up.
I was now semi clean and fed. Maybe I am doing something right.
I continued toward the city center. As the cloudy but still visible sunset was coming over the horizon I saw a good bridge to camp under for the night. 
A few dogs wandering around and on the otherside of the river the bridge crossed was a group of semi organized homeless.

I slept on a pile of rags in the protected area between the upright columns and sloping abutment of the bridge. I woke to see the redhaired crossbreed labrador licking the black mut with the white chest.
Neither of them perturbed by my presence.
They followed me as I walked onward toward where I thought the city center was. I'd get a job. I'd get somewhere to stay. I'd live here. I'd survive somehow. Where the hell is Lu Yi right now.
After being looked unapprovingly by the sidewalk commuters under the tall narrow buildings I came on what looked to be a corporate business park. With a big field and a mural made out of glistening steel in the middle, supposedly a seashell.

Build under the side of a small hill was a very trendy looking cafe. I went over partly out of necessity and partly out of curiosity.
"Am I far from the city center?" In the most honest sounding voice I could conjure.
"Yeah about 3 kilometers along the main road north west there." The owner seemed to have a look of understanding.
I nodded like I knew where he was talking about.
"Can I please use your toilet?"
"Yeah, it's a unisex straight ahead, those people you can see there are in line."
"ok"
There were three other people in the line, one dressed in old ragged clothes worse than me.
He had soiled himself and he stink of it was getting to the other two ahead of him, positioning themselves exactly toward the toilet door as if god would see and speedily rush the occupier out.
It wasn't to be, the occupier took 10 minutes. One of the men infront left the line furiously cursing and wadling like he'd been holding on.
A few minutes later Lu Yi came out of the door. I almost tried to hide in shame at the way I looked.
She caught me straight away. taking three purposeful paces and hugging me.
"What happened to you?"
"I lost everything in the flood and went looking for you." I lied, I had tried not to think about what could have happened to Lu Yi to not drive myself crazy.
"you look like a holocaust survivor ." Ashamed I changed the subject, noting she was tying on a uniform.
"Well looks like you survived. Are you working here?"
"Yeah pretty sweet, I got rescued from the river that runs through the city.
Mister Wang and his wife saw me in the water. They own the place."

Wow how some hit it lucky I thought, she didn't look like my sister anymore. No one I knew had such confidence and spark.
"Almost drowning certainly changes a person." Even the way she spoke didnt seem like her. However she did have a way of adapting.

After finally using the toilet and cleaning myself up a bit, I came out to the main seating area where a bowl of food was waiting for me and Mr Wang was talking to Lu Yi.
"So your the brother?"
"Yes sir"
"Well we can't offer you much here, I got pair of shoes here for you, Your sister says they are your size. And 100 yuan. You can come and visit anytime. But I can't offer you any more money."
"Thank you sir" I managed between slurping down the food. Secretly I collected the scraps in a napkin.

I Hugged Lu Yi realizing I was killing her gig and left. The red lab and black mut were both sitting waiting. I gave them the scraps I had taken from the restaurant and walked toward the city center with my new albeit used shoes and two companions.

 

Skidding a lifetime

 Inside this car
you can see the road passing
inside that wall analogue 
the time moving

along you go
over land on wheels
round the face of the clock
the speed dial moves

the steering wheel
navigates you around another year
no cause to press on the breaks
habitual circles

along you go
watching the ashphalt pass
inside your clockwork
speed dial oscillates

Unaware of the dizziness 
age brings on as time flies
hours you've touched
Car windows paint life

The impossible food

 Hello father I see you half way from the earth
Hello father the galaxy is a garage
God's in the walls somewhere
shining his lights around

You leaned in and whispered
"You are a coward and a bully"
I repeated the words
we tried not to laugh

It wasn't supposed to be serious
both of us knew we were sharing genes
Both of us knew we were connected
"You are a bully and a coward"

Those lists of mistakes
Came flowing over the screen
The walls rattled with laughter
before game over appeared

Father smirk not
Yet break yourself and others not down
For your challenge was balance
The impossible food

Mine acceptance
impossible to drink
the years have parched me father
me on earth you here in the galaxy

Balance is sweetly given
you enjoy eternities
before the game over appears
Wallowing in the lacking ingredient

never tiring of it
Back on earth I can't let much go
accepting very few things
An amateur climber here

A bully and a coward
Lost for words as we interact
that certainty all yours
that doubt stuck on me like impossible food

repentence simultaneous
we speak with one mouth only
Hear but don't listen
act uncouthly

Estuary parent

 Tide comes in and tide goes out
These natural pools it leaves
are for swimming and leisure
surgence of life

The makes the dark muddy sand yellowish
a golden glare that frames these memories
for a future that wants to look back
that wants to wade into the calm warm pools

separation of the decades
separation of each pool
Golden stillness
baby squid sped through the clear meter deep pool

Children waited for lost parents
Beach towels and picnic baskets empty
A wanting ignored and replaced
by a simple hidden estuary beach

Teaching during the floods

 Are you teaching the way you should
Get to school in time
look the part
exert authority

Float on the rivers of expectations
Dull murky and fast running
golden and idyllic
God chooses your days for you

shrunken underwear
lost keys
The gps isn't working
vison blurred

make it to the boat in time
the city is flooded
the other teachers already moved off
toward the damp and mold ridden classes

what document must you hand over
ink meets paper
kiss meets cheek
formality juice squeezed with force

clouds too
raining for weeks
roads are rivers
everything is cancelled

Fragments of love in San Miguel

 From his forth story window Hermes could observe the street below. Often distracting himself on purpose from his online work and his crypto account trading and tweeking.
He'd often see fights in the traffic or strangely dressed characters screaming out either to get relief or attention. The only time he averted his gaze was when the local narco gang convoy came in just before dusk. The street below anchored Hermes and welcomed his brain to take a micro-rests between his online piece work jobs.

One of the places he would want to be able to see from his window perhaps was his local coffee house, where a certain waitress worked. It was directly under his building on the street level, never having to give excuses for his many visits as it was basically on his doorstep.
It was a bright sunny monday Hermes took the stairs instead of the elevator, believing it could replace any actual physical exercise. Optimistic blue through the long narrow windows of the stairwell.

The entry bell rang Hermes almost able to ignore the sound refocusing on his path toward the front counter of the coffee house fidling with napkins and glancing over them to see if Anastasia was there. Of course she was. Her shift was in the morning, Hermes wouldn't miss it for the world. Her smile would give him more pep than the high caffeine content of the coffee, lasting him all day.

"Have you got dirty hands or are you trying to hide behind the napkins?" she said provokingly.
The fact he had a place where his favorite toast and coffee were served to him without even having to order it, on top of that served by an angel made Hermes feel like a king. 
"How do you get the buttered toast so right here?" Hermes deflected.
"Our chef uses a special method he brought all the way to San Miguel de allende from Colombia."Anastasia passed the toast over the counter to him.
"Wow, did he share it with you, do you think it's something I could do at home?"
"Only if you own a toaster" Hermes looked down doubtfully then looked up and grinned.
Anastasia's captivating smile expanded into fits of laughter.

 "You know, if this coffee mug had a mouth, it’d be laughing, I admire your sense of humor," he said,  she couldn’t hide her smile.
 Before she could answer, the door slammed open, the glass partially shattering out of it. Five men entered, each one exuding the kind of arrogance that came with unchecked power.

The leader, Tiburon Bala. No mask. No hesitation. Just business. A few of his men also brazenly without masks raised submachine guns, looking menacingly at all present.
"Everyone down. Now."
The sound of gunfire erupted, screams following as bodies hit the ground. Hermes had time to react before a thug shoved him down, sending him sprawling beneath a table. He heard Anastasia cry out, her voice cut short with a sharp intake of breath.

He twisted his neck just in time to see her crumple, a stain of red spreading across her apron. Helplessness choked him. Rage boiled in his chest, there was nothing he could do.

The manager, who had hidden the moment the gang entered, forces to reappear when Tiburon grabbed Anastasia by the neck and pressed his gun to her temple.
"Tavares, show your face, or i'll waste your favorite waitress over here."
 Hermes frowned.
"Ah, there you are," Tiburon said, smirking as the manager’s face drained of color.
 "We've decided we like the look of your place and want to offer you a business proposal, you interested?"

The manager’s voice trembled. "Please… Don't hurt anyone I'll cooperate."
Tiburon raised his brow to him, motioning to one of his men.
"Well in that case." 
 A heated metal stamp appeared, its edges glowing red. Without hesitation, Tiburon ripped the man's polo and pressed it against his chest. The sizzle of burning flesh filled the room, followed by a strangled scream. The word APEX across the manager's chest.

"Little apex mascot now," Tiburon said. "Here’s the deal. You store my product in the back. You exchange my counterfeit notes for real cash. You keep your mouth shut. And to make sure you stay smart, I’ll be placing one of my boys here."
He glanced back at his men. "Oscar, you’re the new sentry. Congratulations." by Oscar's face all could see it was a demotion.

From his position on the floor, Hermes recognized the man stepping forward. Oscar wasn’t a stranger. He was one of the street dwellers Hermes had seen around regularly on the streets below his apartment, a drug fiend who was always hanging out near the junkies. And now, he had a frown on his face, gun in his hands and a new Job. Oscar, he screamed the name in his mind. He had seen the junkies screaming it.

Tiburon turned back to the manager. "You’ll get a small monthly credit. more than enough to keep you comfortable. Don’t mistake kindness for weakness. We'll fucking decapitate you"
"Ok, ok, it works" The manager nodded frantically, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Tiburon put on his widest grin. Now it became obvious his nickname from spanish "shark", tucking his gun away. He had a shark like face, a grin that made him look like he had more teeth than he really did, symmetrical, sharp.
 "Good. Now clean this mess up. And make sure she doesn’t die. I hate wasting potential."As the gang walked out, Oscar lingered for a moment, meeting Hermes' gaze before stepping outside. Hermes’ fists clenched. This man would become his new focal point.

Hermes spent some time alone in his doubt and rage.
He spent most of the afternoon and next day at the hospital with Anastasia whose mother didn't approve. So they took turns by her bedside, by the next day able to be semi pleasant to one another.
Hermes got his work done before dawn, back to the hospital then back home.
"It's not like the coffee house here, the coffee is terrible the only good thing about it is I get to see the waitress that makes my day" Anastasia smiled despite his cheesy attempt at flattery. Hermes wondered if he had leveraged himself out of the friendzone, a well timed offer of flowers and date perhaps.

She became part of his routine. Beyond that he could fit in his work and his new job, Stalking Oscar.
Hermes was not a small man, not weak or even cowardly. Though he wouldn't practice direct violence against anyone unless it was absolutely necessary and safe for himself.
The first week Hermes memorized Oscar's routine. His home address, his hangouts outside of the coffeehouse which he had to attend like some bank security guard. Tasty irony.

His sister also a drug dealer lived in the same sub level flat, a short concrete slope downward to a metal roller door entry. After several days on the internet Hermes had perfected a home made grenade trap using a bucket and some pulleys. 
He walked over to their entry way which was only 300 meters from his own address and went to work setting it up.
It was tuesday morning 4am in the morning and the sun wouldn't rise for another 2 hours.
After rigging it up he went across the road to observe his great works.

The sun now lighting the sky, the roller door didn't budge until 6.30am, Hermes praying the dozens of people who had walked by hadn't noticed the steel bucket tied up to the top of the door. Hermes almost thought Oscar wouldn't come out at all that morning. It was around this time he'd go out, but it had only been five days watching his habits.
The roller door sprang quickly upward clicked to the top and exploded.
Oscar's sister lost her arm and most the right side of her face in the explosion.

Oscar fell quick, taking the blast on his back pieces of garage door in the criminal siblings. Satisfyingly for Hermes the ambulance got there late. Oscar and his sister would be spending the next few weeks in hospital. Hermes went home that morning feeling closure, victory and pride. It just all came crashing down the next day when he was passing the coffee house and grimly witnessed a very injured but still standing Oscar inside on his guard duty. His sister would spend months in hospital though. 

Collateral damage he thought with a shiver.
Hermes went back to work on stalking oscar and recording each and every activity. This time Oscar had one of the other gangsters with him. Vega. Whose piercing eyes gave him the creeps.
He decided to give it a rest to the dust settled. "He will keep." he thought. "He will keep."

He did keep himself away, however he never stopped teaching himself traps, sabotage and hit and run. After another week Anastasia was back in the coffee house and Oscar saw her everyday for his coffee and toast. Under the eyes of an injured disgruntled Oscar.

Pulled from the hospital before he could be processed Tiburon put Oscar up in his small mansion overlooking the city. Bringing in one of their gangster medics and one of the gangboy's mothers who worked as a nurse. 
In the living room Tiburon Vega and injured Oscar spoke that day.
"I saw the damage to the door it could be a professional hit." Vega said.
"Were they trying to kill my sister or me?"
"It wasn't a professional hit" Tiburon said emphatically.

He stared at Oscar.
Vega left the room.
"We know how you humiliated the junkies Oscar, that's why you are a just a stupid guard now."
"I told you that you'd never get away with rubbing shit in their faces."
"What did Vega say" Oscar protested with intention of turning the story.
"He said nothing, some of my old guys are part of that junky group you were selling to."
Tiburon burst into laughter "Now those guys have seen some real horror."
"Any way Vegas gonna keep a check on you. Until you prove you can take care of yourself" Oscar's grimace was priceless.

For the next week Vega watched every move Oscar made. He questioned the junkies, installed a new door and video camera on oscar's door. Every day he spent around Oscar he felt someone watching, something in the shadows.
Before Vega said goodbye, he cautioned him. "Oscar I don't believe that it was your punishing the junkies that caused this. Looks like you got a stalker mano, someone's out there bro. Please becareful."
"I did hurt them Vega, you know what I did, They were coming after hours they found out where I live. I broke one's arm and beat a couple of them half to death."
"I saw them a week later and they looked real angry and then they went to ground."
Vegas phone started to ring as he told Oscar "It's impossible that they attacked you, cabron"

Oscar looked at him speechless breathing out a long and curious "why?"
Vega responded "They didn't go to ground lento, those exact guys overdosed a month ago."

"What's cooking tiburon?"Putting phone to ear. walking out onto the street.
"I'm taking you off Oscar, he's a big boy, I got something big."
Excitement lit Vega's voice "What's up"
"We got some opposition at the local precinct, looking into our new arrangements."
"I'm on it."
"Ahhhhhhhhh" Vega screamed as a shadow past like a swooping vulture. Oscar threw his crutch, unholstered his 45 and limped out to the street shooting in the direction vega pointed. 
Nothing there. Vega on one leg holding his other leg turned slightly offbalance collapsed to the ground.
"Kneecapped me bro" Next 10 minutes screaming and crying.

Hermes had never sprinted so fast in his life and suddenly he was feeling incredibly alive. It was the second hit, sure that his strike had hit home with enough force and purpose to put Oscar's new friend out of action for a while. Twisting the small crowbar in his hand he almost found himself wanting to lick the blood tipped edge of it. Would Anastasia approve of this behaviour?
Of course not. 
But something about lurking in the warm night air. Taking in the clove scented tobacco smoke emittted from the local smoke houses. Echos of his own sprinting footfalls that spoke to him.
He had become an awkward but very effective predator.

Next morning feeling his self worth peak optimistic deep blue sky on sunrise. He pushed open the new door of his local coffee shop. Oscar still looking a little worse for wear.
"Oh yeah and who is going to replace you? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha."
What the hell was Tiburon Bala doing here, a winded feeling in his gut. What was anastasia doing laughing at his jokes? Oh no did he discover it was me? These thoughts made him dizzy.
"So Ana you gonna take a ride with me so we can get better acquainted?" He attempted.
"Maybe after my shift." She said shyly.
This was the guy that almost killed her and now he was courting her with ease.

"Anastasia aren't we going to visit your mother today"
"You hate my mother, remember the hospital?"
"Yeah that's right, who caused you to be  there" Hermes positioned sarcastically.
Anastasia turned bright red. 
Hermes got struck across the face with a cane handle before he could turn to see who had done it he fell on his ass, in a way that made everyone in the coffee house chuckle including manager Tavares.

It was Vega, bony observant and extremely quick, using his new cane to punish Herme's implication.
"Vega stand down, the guy's just jealous, let it simmer a while old pal. It's half the thrill."
Vega didn't heed and drew the cane handle under Hermes chin picking him up to his feet.
"If you've got a complaint, I'd like to hear it straight to my face." Vega threatened.
"No complaint, this is your place now. Ill be going." And he'd never enter the place again.
"Oh don't be like Hell man." Tiburon quipped.

He took one last look back at Anastasia who seemed quite neutral. Had she fallen for the charms of this menace? And Tiburon's last comment, "hell man" Was he putting himself in hell by becoming this vindictive and violent person.

He spent the next week at his cousins house in Tres cruces. It was a full house, with some party going on.
In the lounge a few close friends were knocking their glasses and congratulating each other.
"What are we celebrating Carlos?" Hermes awkwardly raised his voice.
"Meet Marcos and his crew, one of my best friend's from Poly bro."
"Oh wow do you guys work in Forensics like carlos?"
"Nah bro we getting it done for swat, aye." Marcos responded cheerfully.

"Why you guys so happy and where did you eses get so much whiskey?"
"Yo Carlos your cus on the straight with us or he go some connect to the la banda"
"Hahahahaha, he's squarer than me mano."
Marcos face took a sudden look of seriousness. "Order went out, local prisons been full for three months. Mayor wants us to confiscate everything, what doesn't fit in lock up goes to us. Including cash." 
"Is that legal" Hermes jaw dropped.
"It is around here homes, we got no other way of punishing these fiends."
"what do you do with guys you lock up."
"The resisters get lead and after a photoshoot  the survivors get driven out of the city."
A strange and brilliant grin made the hair on Carlos' neck stand up, even marcos got a funny feeling.

The patrol car entered the main street slowly following Vega's footsteps. A year from the coffee house being taken over by Tiburon. Hermes had made several attempts to contact Anastasia, not getting a single response.
he hurried into the old coffee house where Oscar and Tavares were speaking.
"I'm being tailed by some police unit. lets just act naturally. I don't think they have anything on me"
The police vehicle stopped outside and a plainclothes officer go out and entered the shop casually.

Vega and the others kept quiet. 
Anastasia asked "What will it be?"
Just a coffee and a piece of toast. 

The plain clothes cop stared at them all and seemed to be taking a mental note of the inside.
Vega felt like pulling his nine out and ending him there and then. But it looked like some elaborate trap. It'd been so long vega had felt so hopeless.
The hours passed and Anastasia  folded her apron and made for the door.
"None of you can leave" The words made Vega and Oscar cringe. 
"Get back to the kitchen. I'm gong to get hungry." 
The plainclothes cop slowly turned pointing his .38 at vegas hip, as if by magnet pull Vega went for his gun, plainclothes smirking, the round burned through Vegas hand and cracked his gun barrel.
Oscar leapt to the ground, neither men used to this amount of confrontation as everyone had just given up for so long.

"What do you want cop" Vega pleaded holding his injured hand.
"We've come down to take ten percent of your earnings. We know your tough so you're gonna be a real sure thing." He called Tavares from the back. "write an inventory of all your gear, and what comes in and goes out. Our task force needs new equipment, your outfit is going to pay for it."
"ok no problem" Vega stalled reaching for a throwing knife.
His phone rang before he could get a grip. "Vega stand down they hit us, the rest of the gang is dead. They want to tax us our five places and all our shipments." Tiburon sounded like he was being strangled.

Plainclothes patted them all down and took some of the cash from the coffee house.
Took their guns exited and took off in the patrol car with it's driver.
Vega thought about heading out of the city, getting away from it all.
His outrage got the better of him, he armed oscar and himself with submachine guns and drove to Tiburon's mansion in the hills.
They entered dove from the doors of the car and circled around the Mansion to a secret side door.

Adrenaline pulsed in vega's vein and hot fear in Oscar's. They broke into the house and came out on the kitchen lounge where four men were sitting around a coffee table counting money, one of the men was using Tiburon as a foot stool.
"Hands behind you're heads get your fucking feet off."
The men obeyed rapidly but just didn't seem surprised enough for Vega's satisfaction.
"I said take your feet off him"
Hands came out from nowhere, guns rose to Oscar and Vega's head from behind them.
Vega screamed "I know you, I've seen you before."
Hermes stood up and approached Vega.

"You are under arrest pendejo" 
Tiburon, Vega and Oscar were put in the huge basement space of the mansion, once a storage space for stolen goods, drugs extra cash and even small machines. Now made a perfect makeshift prison.
Marcos nodded "you need anything else from us Hermano?" 
"Just the car keys homes"
Marcos frowned. "You sure know how to take."
"Yeah that's because noone gives freely"
The two of them laughed and Marco and his guys left.

A knock came from the front door, Hermes went to answer it. It was Anastasia