Melting spoons - second chapter and third chapter

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2

I wake up amongst the beetles and the spiders the woodlice and flies; the damp the dark - and the shadows. I spend the next five minutes throwing up all my sins and shame in the broken toilet.
I need to sit and rest my stomach from all the convulsions, but there are no seats, chairs or sofas. Just an old urine stained mattress with the imprint of my corpse, slowly fading from existence. I pull half the mattress up against the wall and I sit and try to relax my muscles. Like most of the empty houses round here the windows let only the smallest spots of light through the holes in the steel plates that have replaced the broken glass. Spots of light ticking on and off in my face as the frail shadows of life and machinery pass by.
Tick, tock . . . tick,tock. Tick, tock, tick . . . Darkness.
Someone is here, outside. My hand scrapes and scratches through the Wiry old carpet, looking for the blade my Stanley knife my favourite toy - the nightmare wand! One streak one quick, slick, swipe and you are magically transformed from a smiling bundle of joy to, abracadabra - a bleeding quivering mess, begging for mercy. My caution is without justice I find my toy in a spot of light as the shadow outside moves on to wherever. Just as well because I really need to get a move on soon. I can feel the cold storm stirring in the pit of my stomach.

Cash on the nail, that's what I need right now. The storm inside is coming the stomach cramps the cold sweats. I need a chance an opening - a victim. It's amazing how you can go from rust, filth and broken dreams to white picket fences, smooth footpaths, flashy motors and fancy first names all in a ten minutes walk. This is the perfect time of morning when most have gone to work or are taking the kids to school. I try a few houses, they still sometimes (in this area at least) leave their doors unlocked, but today - for me - no such luck.
Wait . . .
A suit!
Perfect, he looks perfect. This guy shouldn't be too much bother. I cant see him putting up much of a fight so it should be relatively painless for us both. He's just walking wistfully in his three quarter length and blue silk tie. In his world he doesn't envisage such a pernicious turn of events in life. He probably already has everything nicely set out for himself; A dutiful wife, cherub children and Sundays on the golf green. But - Today its just gonna be one swift, sharp, left to the jaw; lights out for him and cash on the knuckle for me.

But, again no so such luck today -for him at least, anyway. Had to be a hero didn't he? Had to have pride and a bit of bottle. I thought he would just go down on the first, but he could actually take it or I can longer give it like I used to. Am I getting weaker, slower? Well - I don't know about that, but I do know that it's time.
Time for the setting of the needle and of the flame the spoon and the vein. Then . . .

3

I think I broke his arm, sprained it maybe. I definitely felt his nose crack though, but that doesn’t matter right now. Because right now the blades of emerald green are brushing along my spine and the clouds in the sky are hugging me all over.
He pleaded for mercy as I knocked him down, the brick smashing his jaw, he pleaded while his hands where covered in blood trying to protect his face, screaming as I struck his temple with another blow, striking him with such force that a chunk of brick broke away; sharp shards catching my face as I cocked my arm ready for another plunge. But like a said that isn’t important right now. My arm reaches up and my fingertips caress the face of the sun my eyes are alight with wonder. Its power doesn’t blind me and the heat does not and cannot hurt me. I feel the warmth soft and gentle, caressing me all over, wave after wave kissing my body, seeping inside consuming and becoming me. I fall deep into the core, drowning into the dream.
He screamed for mercy as I kicked and stamped on his face, telling me he didn’t want to die; begging me to stop. The soul of my foot escorted his teeth down the back of his throat. My foot plunged into the pit of his stomach, almost disappearing inside him. I kicked again, again and again.
Warm kisses everywhere as I drown deeper inside.
I don’t think he was conscious as I stood over him, emptying his wallet.
I dropped the wallet on his swollen face, blood oozing from the nose his eyes ringed black the pupils broken.
The warm breeze spreads through me sanctifying every bone, muscle and nerve.
I’m home.
I’m home.
Nothing else matters.