Down there

Yes.

      It is part of your punishment. You have to go down there.  GO.

                                                                         he spoke with harsh authority 

he usually didnt acquiesce to authority

he must have known 

                       the men behind him menacedthreatened him with strong arms and hands knotted around horsehair and porcupine needle whips that made him anxious 

                                                                   and not in the way he usually thought of anxious

he went

the descent was a slightly vertiginous he wasnt affected by acrophobia 

                                                                             necrophilia possibly affected him more  Please Marilyn no  this might be wrong   Wrong? Why? What could possibly be wrong with us making love?  Youre dead   I seem pretty lively; I respond enthusiastically to your touch, your cock, you make me wet.  Yesyes You are  What can be wrong with that? It’s your dream. 

                                                   she made a goodan excellent point

the smooth marble chute ran down to a gutter 

the stone was dull not slick

                                barefooted he was able to descend without much trouble

at the foot of the chute where it elegantly joined the gutter or trough kneeled an old woman she was not particularly well-preservedshe wasnt dead rather she hadnt appeared to age well she wore a large illfitting blueplaid flannel the shirttail in front hung in the gutter she wore paleblue work jeans she plucked turds from small stagnant puddles and played with them asif they were Lincoln Logs 

                                                 maybe as a child she had

he spoke to her  

                 Yaought to stop messing around there Stop  

she looked up to him her faceat the edges of her mouth were smears

Please stop maam  Wha your doing isnt healthy 

she didnt look inquisitive or seem to understand him

                                                        she remained quiet blind as only a 30s40s German might then casually returned to her labourher fetching and building she was content

he stood straddling the trough 

                                 a soft ambercoloured light descended from the ceiling bleeding through the stone asif it was translucent or asif the light itself emanated in the raggedlychiseled stone overhead 

if this is Hell he thought it wasnt imagined by Hieronymus Bosch 

                                                                      or perhaps Bosch his hands amputated eyes put out

smearing raggedly  like the feeble old woman

0638,  Thursday,  17  9. 20 

1638,  Thursday,  24  9. 20