This Statue's Got a Concrete Heart

Zdzisław Beksiński

Sprawled in the ruins of Golgotha Sestri Civic Hall like a puppet whose strings have been severed by the cruel blade of its creator, Amanita Muscovita watches the clouds paint the sky with green and orange dust. She’s almost relieved by the fact that she never saw it coming; she’s sure now that there is nothing more to be done; nothing left to learn. Pixelated fractals fringe her vision, a kaleidoscopic curtain-call for her soul, as the blood pools beneath her, warm and comforting after days in the frozen wasteland of this city in terminal decay. Somewhere in the canyons of rust and concrete a cat yowls, sharp and hungry, and Amanita wonders, idly, without anxiety, how long her body will sustain some feral scavenger.

Tales for the attention deficit reader