Silence
Rida Mughal
Uncomfortable in a crowded room
Too much noise
Too much energy
I’d rather paint the scene
With my own mind
Mouths are inefficient
They stutter and they falter
Conversations should only be
Kept in our heads
Small talk in meaningless
I don’t care about the weather
Or how your pet is doing
I want to know
If I can call you a friend
I am an overthinker
A molehill is always
A mountain with a maze inside
Silent conversations held with
Authors
Philosophers
Only because
Nobody really listens anymore
“I fall in love with
Words rather than actions
Ideas and thoughts
Instead of reality
And it will be the death of me.”
I crave the silence
When the world starts to scream
And the blackout that follows
Is filled with bliss.
A wordless sanctuary
Made of
Letters soaked in thought
My own little utopia
Away from the clamor
Of a world that never stops talking
No, I’m fine
Really I’m ok
There are just some things
In my mind
I need to take care of first.
Atropa Belladonna
Samantha Roe
Running fast, ignoring the embers burning within his muscles with every propulsing bound his feet made. The hurried breath of the fox puffed in a white cloud behind him in the cold air as the ground beneath his feet slickened with the oncoming rain. Mud coated his paws and dusted his snout while the rain matted his red coat to his back.
He wouldn’t stop running. He couldn’t. He was far too afraid. His eyes were still wide with unfathomable terror as he dashed through the trees and ducked through bushes. There was no unseeing what had happened, there was no forgetting that smell, nor the stiffness of the
stagnant air around there.
He had been wandering the woods with an empty stomach. As the seasons changed food no longer became abundant in the sleeping forest. All the prey were beginning to sleep soundly in their holes and hideouts while this lonely fox sought them out. Again his belly gurgled in protest of its lack of sustenance and the fox twisted its head around desperately searching for one, little, morsel of food. No luck. He continued on route, shivering every once in a while when a gust of wind rustled his mop of fur and left a chill in his bones.
Through the frigid air, the shrill call of a bird pierced the air. The fox dashed towards its origin, heart pounding and stomach aching to be filled with the warmness of food.
He arrived at a particularly shrouded area, the tree tops knitting together, almost dome like, and blocking out all light except for one vertical ray that beat down upon a single shrub. The shrub was unusually lush, adorned with jewel like berries that glistened in delight under the ray of sun. A sudden breeze kicked up and carried the sweet aroma of the shrub to the fox, encasing the red animal with a delectable smell that sent warm tingles to the tips of the foxes toes. The scent was too alluring to resist. Walking forward and licking his lips the fox dared to wander closer, eyeing the onyx jewels atop the jade shrub stems with a gluttonous hunger that made ravenous wolves look like well fed pups. The berries jingled gleefully to the airy rhythm of the wind and the fox could have sworn that the fruit gave off a delightful ring.
The fox shook off the wetness on his coat and walked closer to the morsel that so teasingly seduced the animal with its scents and sounds. The closer the fox neared the more beautiful the shrub became. The leaves contained ornate and enchanting spiral patterns that made the eye quiver with dazed excitement. Licking his lips the fox opened its mouth, ready to engulf the black seductress.
Something cold smacked onto his snout before his teeth could pierce the skin of the fruit and as the single rain droplet trailed down his nose and into his nostril he was forced to sneeze.
He faced the ground. Where a small bird lay, its wings outstretched on opposite ends as it spasmed uncontrollably and coughed up a chunky black goo. Its orange eye was wide with a fright only seen in the eyes of the dying. It’s lungs expanded rapidly, its irises shaking, its feet clawing at the empty air and wings flapping wildly out of control in a feeble attempt to escape what cruel fate had been dealt upon it. It gave one final, familiar screech before falling completely limp.
The fox stared down in horror. He nudged the poor bird with his nose but it moved no longer. The body remained still, the warmth leftover from its life just seconds ago brushing against the nose of the fox. He backed away from the corpse slowly, lifting his head to see the illusion before him had dissipated.
The shrub was now wrinkled and gray, the sweet scent rotted into a foul smelling rawness that reminded the fox of meat after it had been left in the sun for days. The jeweled berries were dried like raisins that convulsed aggressively as the force of the wind blew past the area. Beneath the wiry limbs of the plant, at its roots in the ground, was something pulsating. It rose and fell with the rhythm of a heart and the ferocity of a pounded on drum. the sun was gone, only the cold darkness, creeping out in tendrils from behind the trees was present.
Ba dum, ba dum, ba dum, ba dum.
Like a swinging pocket watch dangling in front of a pair of mossy eyes.
Ba dum, ba dum, ba dum, ba dum.
It’s call was alluring yet horrifyingly sickening.
The gnarled roots of the shrub emerged from beneath the ground to encircle the lifeless body of the small bird, pulling it into the ground with a sickening crack as the bones were compacted beneath the feral plant.
As if trying to assure the fox that nothing was wrong the pulsing beat beneath the shrub beat louder.
Ba Dum Ba Dum Ba Dum Ba Dum.