VIII. Just another apocalyptic scenario

Insects are suddenly everywhere in the air – corpulent, leggy, deathful – and at once I feel a savage prickling over every exposed part of my body. I am being attacked. I run indoors, fear surging biliously to the back of my throat. The house I run into is large with many rooms (…at this point you knew it would be) and almost no furniture. The first floor is slightly below-ground, with eight-foot-high picture windows displaying two feet of earth and thick foliage. I stand in front of one, staring out, trying to remember if all the apertures in the place are shut against the impending plague. But a strange humanly chaos has set in as well. For as I stare, a torso-naked, wild-looking man swings orangutan-style into another man, bowling him over, and then, jumping atop him, begins to attack the man’s chest with his hands, teeth, jaws, tearing at him like the nearly-extinct and ravenous cheetah. I am goggling the scene, throat now chockfull of actual bile, heart hiding in belly… when my boyfriend walks up and looks out. I turn to him with stricken face, protests bubbling seismically from the deep, from my rubbery but real humanity, and say, “How could this happen?”

He glances back at me, shrugs, and says with pointed matter-of-factness, “In his situation, I would too.”

My head goes all linty. I can’t think, and I can’t breathe. Who is this emotionless monster I’ve kept beside me all these years? How could I not have seen… Somehow too I know that there are others in the house who share his opinion. My dread must be diluted, muffled, erased. I must pass as like-minded, or else…

What will I do, trapped here with him, with them?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I awake, smiling at the accuracies and distortions.

~ by kingzoko on May 31, 2015.

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