Timentime again words and winds wound out of mouths of those who were either illinformed or illconsiderate
contemptuous
and willfully spouting sly speculations without a shred of evidence
as if the weight and conviction of their words were enough
the faith of their firm words
were enough
the faith of their firm words
were enough
unfortunately they were to realise that some people took serious offence to their lies
and these people insisted in radical ways that lies were contemptible and bore consequences
consequences even they hadnt foreseen
* * *
a young man at the back of the room spun a coin on an uneven folding table as he listened
intently to the loose conversation before him
intently to the loose conversation before him
what should their answer be to these broadsides - a barrage of euphemisms ensued - though it seemed each of them were trying very hard to minimize the offence of those they spoke of
as if a liar shouldnt be called out as a liar
the young man let the spinning coin die
quietly recording the heads versus tails
quietly recording the heads versus tails
with talleymarks pulled in the wood top of the table with his tip of his folding knife
he worked his knife with a stone
it was as sharp as a scalpel
he used it to skin small game and butcher its meat
its metalblade slipped easily through torqued joints
he was practised and effortless
listening he heard one word repeated over and over and it was that word that he too
scored its prominence timentime again into the table top
beside the heads and tails
speculation
speculation
or some form or tense of the word
and with evident derision hearing the word wax in their voices sometimes spat out as if it tasted horribly
another word began to occur in his ears in his head in concert
speculum
speculum
the smell emitted from an autoclave came into his nose
its unrelenting sterility and cloister
brilliant stainless steel tools emerged casting reflected light usually reserved for diamond facets
long lazy mirrorball glints cascaded like rainbowed waterfalls across the walls and ceiling quivering on the green-black-squared tile floor
the young man inside his head visualised the duck-billed instrument quack-quack-quack
then suddenly yawned
YAWN denied of some now long-lost sleep
miserable and stutter-eyed and miserable
YAWN denied of some now long-lost sleep
miserable and stutter-eyed and miserable
he witnessed their bills shoved into the mouths of liars
he heard screams into their stretched faces telling them if they didnt recant they were going to exercise the speculums in direct regard to their specious speculations and they imagined that ratio exaggeration would be sufficient to break teeth and snap their jaws
and that
and that
that was going to be their choice
their choice
and their decision
* * *
he returned to the piqued voices and droning as his coin was losing velocity and beginning to wobble
it was all talk
they were good at talk
when the coin had decided and laid flat
he raised his folding knife in hand to be recognized
the blade catching the light flashed from the back of the room capturing their eyes
and quieted them
and in that bite of silence
he thought better of his extreme consideration and pulled down his exclamation point
out of the air
he was recognized
he shook his head no thank you
he apologized to the panel and hall that he was no talker
the blade seemed to have cut the earnest discourse
soon the clutch was adjourned with nothing more than words ringing in certain ears and
the parched throats of others in need of wetting
however elsewhere
they talked about the knife in the air at the back of the room
they speculated about what the young man might have had to say or meant by his oblique demonstration
and he
he returned home weighted
perplexed by their impassioned words
words it occurred to him
stacked one atop another atop another and by themselves would never suffice against
a single action
say a speculum in retaliation for a baseless lie or speculation
he would sleep on it
dream it through
and wake in the morning and sift the gut-strung beaded and peregrine-feathered dreamweaver above his bed for actionable remnants
in bed lying on his back he snapped the action of his folding knife open with a flick of his wrist and quieted the blade home with the palm of his other hand over and over and over
then gently placed it on the night table
* * *
on the blackened ceiling above him
he watched the eyes of vortexes curiously muse and languid lazy swirls wash and wane
febrile and waif projections of his interior discourse and discomfit
and they were slashed and stabbed by occasional shards of light off traffic
the ceilings shallow stucco threw blinked queer shadows and distractions quibbling at its surface
eventually to draw quiet he blindfolded himself with the heels and palms of his restless hands
they fell away when he finally slept
and that sleep
was anointed with slaughter
action
acted better than words
at every turn and around every corner
when he woke in the morning
the knife lay open
1217, Saturday, 12 4. 14
