Exercises in style (2): Objective

The man stands in an attic room, staring out of the slanted skylight. He is watching the moon. From below can be heard a woman’s cries – she is crying his name with melancholy voice. There are tears in his eyes, but he remains motionless. The moon is full, and from his vantage, it lies just above the bottom edge of the window. A jungle theme papers the walls from floor to ceiling. Its busy pattern features glossed and leafy verdure, vivid tropical flowers, monkeys, exotic birds.

The man has a handsome face. His irises are the color of coffee with cream. Still he stands at the skylight, watching as the moon rises and changes to waxing gibbous. He continues to hear the woman moaning downstairs. The corners of his eyes are unceasingly damp, yet he does not move. However, there begins to be some movement in the room. Gigantic plants and multicolored blooms begin to detach from their painted locations on the walls and dip into three-dimensional space. The man seems to perceive this but be unaffected by it. Then, when a large orange bird-of-paradise comes out of the wall nearest him, he flairs his nostrils and inhales deeply. Her cries grow softer.

He has been at the window for hours now. The moon has risen through its first quarter and is at waxing crescent. He has followed it with his vision the whole time. The woman’s laments are less and less frequently audible, and his eyes are finally drying. Rainforest has overtaken the room. Wild birds caw and there is the hum of buzzing insects. Broad fronds have fallen across the door, wholly insulating the little attic. All the room’s furniture is gone. As the moon gains the top of the skylight’s frame, it becomes new, and the man can no longer hear a single sound from below.

~ by kingzoko on January 22, 2013.

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