Blahsphemy

She looked frail. The sunlight was playing with her hair. It was a Sunday afternoon. Damn, my memory is getting mixed up again. Can you please rearrange the lines? 

The music played itself out The needle retired to its familiar corner The song still lingered on  

Four days have slipped by My blog still remains dry as ever Dear muse please come by

Mindless chatter for the soul Endless rides to the fair and back The mind still strays alone

I was always seeking pain But pain never seemed to mind me Now that's my new pain

Was a mirror, lamented shards Was doesn't mean anything now, taunted life It did, replied the stone

The tale had a period The story wheezed its last there They called it the end

The black flags of death. Like noisy feathers nesting on lamp posts  Crowing at life's only reality

I am a long-lost memory  Your past and present rolled into one  Faded by time's incessant ticking  

Your conscience called. It has left a contact number. These mind mapping rascals, he remarked as he hung up on his brain. 

Who is he? An old friend. He doesn't look that old. No he is not old.  But, he is an old friend right?  Yes.

Rain drops and dew drops. She used to drop them on her lovers face. But now as she lay motionless, he dropped a handful of earth on her beautiful face.  

The tallest tree in the forest is as long as a matchstick. The largest boulder is as big as a pebble. The biggest man as big as your thumb. Now that you got the picture, go back to your fairy tale and try being the giant who has washed up on that tiny shore. 

Listen to the penny drop, commanded the inner voice. So she dropped a penny and listened. Idiot not this penny, that one. She stole a glance at the direction her mind was goading her to look. There she was - Penny, in all her glory peeping in to the well. One nudge was all that it took to hear the scream and the splash thereafter. 

A million sperms danced on the tiled floor. Only to be washed away by the hot water from the shower. The drain received them like a metallic ovary with sieves. Farewell my million unborn children cried the porn star from the magazine.    

His fear crouched in the corner waiting to pounce. He could feel its eyes prying on him. His hands frantically searched for the only weapon he could use. Is that it? His brain screamed. Where is that piece of cold steel when you really want it. There it is, ensconced in my trouser pockets, a bit warm from the body heat. His fingers grasped it and pulled it out. He frantically punched in the numbers and he could already feel his fear disappearing. Hello, the voice on the other end was like a gust of fresh air. He looked around and there was nothing to fear in that room. Nothing at all.