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Cremation (371 hits)

Category: Quotes & Stories

Rating: 2 on 7 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by Chris (View user info) at 2005-06-07 02:30:29 EDT


Cremation

The steps were coated in black and obsidian, shiny and damp. White light scattered across the steps and pixilated along the edges of the stone staircase, and miniscule vines of water formed freeway maps and glistening entrails. Drops would accumulate on a step, then slide down.

I was ascending the staircase and breathing heavily in the cold darkness. The stairs and I were well-lit from a bright source of light above, though to my left and right were pitch black. The black was thick and distant, a featureless ocean of ink.

A garbled voice sang, commanded as if through a kazoo: "You, yo-ouuuuu! Yo-ouuuuu!"

Yes, me! I was ascending the staircase.

"Yo-ouuu-ouuu!"

The singing voice began to shatter and break up. It was melodic, but disconcerting and digital. Heavy tribal drums pounded a rhythm, and my feet followed the rhythm up the stairs despite my exhaustion.

I was dripping with sweat. My thick head of dark brown hair was saturated, clinging to my damp forehead in strands of soggy spaghetti. My mouth was agape and I was breathing heavily. I would exhale loudly, then step through my wispy white breath, visible in the bright white light. I wore a white short-sleeved shirt with faint blue stripes with a clip-on blue tie. The shirt was thin, airy and comfortable. My pants were dark chocolate brown and tight-fitting, and my work shirt was tucked into the pants and lassoed with a black belt. My black shoes were wet, my outfit absorbing puddles on the staircase.

I began to breath heavier and paused, then continued my ascent faster and harder than before.

The garbled voice sang over the reverberations of a sitar, steel beams striking ground, a disaffected female voice explaining some irrelevant, infinite, suffocating nothing in some sterile well-lit room somewhere - where the carpet from 1996 stank like dirt.

I disregarded the woman but regarded her voice as I climbed the obsidian staircase to some unseen, presumably well-lit destination, the knowledge of which being my sole motivation.


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User Reviews


Submitted by kitchens_closed (user info) at 2005-06-07 13:26:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Interesting.

Submitted by YELLOW-MAN (user info) at 2005-06-07 13:08:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2005-06-07 10:27:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

cool

Submitted by Ducky (user info) at 2005-06-07 05:41:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

This was well written.

Submitted by Lobsterkins (user info) at 2005-06-07 03:27:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Heyo, thank you guys for the reads/comments. This was an idea I couldn't get out of my head as I was laying in bed, so I thought I'd write it out and see what developed.

Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-06-07 03:16:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by CLAIRE1 (user info) at 2005-06-07 02:45:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

+2 for using obsidian.


A boy without mischief is like a bowling ball without a liquid center.

-- Homer Simpson
Lisa the Greek