END OF THE WORLD (unfinished)

I pull back the curtain of my sleeping bag blanket to see a grey hazy sky.

Birds cross to and fro with black silhouettes that dart ecstatically

I play with them for a moment trying to guess where they come from or which way they’re going.

When we tire of these things I let my gaze slip down, down to the perimeters of my boarding.

A grafitti blessed stone.

The wall of a derelict building.

Other buldings are in view, so I can only judge… that I’m on top, on top, of a rooftop!

I’m so elevated that i soak in the city sights like the tea that kisses my lips every morning.

Perched like some kind of sailor, balancing a great scope with heavy arms now light  at the sign of dry land up ahead.

Buildings, people, art float by as if I haven’t as yet woken.

On the far left hand corner of my screen I notice a tiny detail that emerges within the chaos.

It operates in a way that is so calculated it somehow appears unsure of itself.

I watch its movements curiously.

Soon a great big arm of galvanized metal looms before me.

Its fingers crushed into its very own puss yellow claw.

Its whole structure and being oozes bubbling oil as if it had just escaped from the fiery depths of hell,

taken a short cut which bypassed earths sewage system whereby it found a most appetizing pitt stop…

feasting directly below McDonalds.

As I lean forward in anticipation its image becomes skewed and I’m almost sure its wavering, that there’s a bending force interrupting its initial focus.

I pinch myself an ask ‘is this real?’

Quietly I mutter ‘metal can’t bend like that and what is the ghastly thing doing up here?’

Almost immediately on cue the head of a man appears.

The head seems to be in relation with what can only be called ‘it’.

‘Oh no’ I cry and let out a yelp.

I try to gulp down to make myself scarce but fail miserably.

I’m naked in my surroundings.

And the two lifeforms turn to spot me.

The man (who can be described as): blank faced and asleep

The ‘thing: robotically twisted.

Fix me to the spot.

All I can do is watch my fate unfurl.

They seem to be pondering something.

I remain still but inside my mind jumps around frantically.

Banging and bruising itself against my scalp.

Squeezing its brainy gizzards at the alternative solutions till its on the very brink of implosion.

POW!!

It collapses like a drunken mess on the floor.

It whines well known phrases like ‘ahhh ahhh…what’s going to happen next?’

Next?

Well, out of nowhere a helicopter falls into the sky and hovers in the thick white haze around us.

Its wasp like tail bleeps a red flashing light. 

A scrawning voice soon is amplified and booms a list of instructions:

‘freeze, drop your weapons, anything you say can be held against you in a court of…’

Police?

I sigh.

Somehow I don’t feel at ease.

I mean freeze? Drop your weapons? Anything you say can blah blah blah.

We are frozen.

None of us have weapons, unless you consider ourselves as weapons…

and neither of us have spoken a word.

I’m not sure that ‘thing’ can speak a word (muttered/whispered at side of mouth).

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