and the ambulance men said
“there’s nowhere to flee for your life”
~ Shearwater ‘Rooks’ 2008
“there’s nowhere to flee for your life”
~ Shearwater ‘Rooks’ 2008
 |
| Jealousy and Misunderstanding ~ Pavel Kolomeyets |
Eva steps through the loading bay door. Marty watches from the undergrowth; from his viewpoint she is a slender silhouette against the yellow light from within; one foot poised to take the next step; shoulders drawn back as if to advise against entering the warehouse.
Eva’s out of breath; Daniel, also out of breath, is only a metre behind her lugging the Medical box; he doesn’t stop in the doorway.
Marty had split from the others, his mind roaring at him like a breaking wave; he couldn’t have done it; he couldn’t do it; he couldn’t do what they were doing; couldn’t leave the only world he knows.
They’d all run when they’d realised that Joe was dead; Marty had dived off into the undergrowth here; the others hadn’t stopped or returned for him.
Over his beating heart he’d heard the tractor starting up and heading toward the gate behind the commons, heard the shouts of one of the women. Later, Daniel shouting in the commons - nobody shouts like Daniel.
Eventually Kay came looking for Joe, no doubt wondering where the daily dose of hot potato had got to.
There is no blood. Curled up in a ball with his head twisted at an odd angle to gaze over his left shoulder at the rafters above. His complexion is grey. His blue jaw is clenched against that final blow.
It’s not long before the warehouse contains more people than it took to build it. They form a quadrant around the corner where Joe’s body lies on the concrete floor.
Mixed in with the perfume of the batteries and the hum of the fridges there’s a vacuum, a sentient silence, as if the sharp intake of breath at what lies before them has sucked all the air from the room.
Eva’s out of breath; Daniel, also out of breath, is only a metre behind her lugging the Medical box; he doesn’t stop in the doorway.
Marty had split from the others, his mind roaring at him like a breaking wave; he couldn’t have done it; he couldn’t do it; he couldn’t do what they were doing; couldn’t leave the only world he knows.
They’d all run when they’d realised that Joe was dead; Marty had dived off into the undergrowth here; the others hadn’t stopped or returned for him.
Over his beating heart he’d heard the tractor starting up and heading toward the gate behind the commons, heard the shouts of one of the women. Later, Daniel shouting in the commons - nobody shouts like Daniel.
Eventually Kay came looking for Joe, no doubt wondering where the daily dose of hot potato had got to.
There is no blood. Curled up in a ball with his head twisted at an odd angle to gaze over his left shoulder at the rafters above. His complexion is grey. His blue jaw is clenched against that final blow.
It’s not long before the warehouse contains more people than it took to build it. They form a quadrant around the corner where Joe’s body lies on the concrete floor.
Mixed in with the perfume of the batteries and the hum of the fridges there’s a vacuum, a sentient silence, as if the sharp intake of breath at what lies before them has sucked all the air from the room.
| Shearwater | ||
| Rooks | ||
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