An old fear

The sky darkened

as a new snow fell

The people awoken to see

What would be a miracle

Snow in summer

Such a pleasant surprise

And bright too

Even at night

Such a strange sky

Blood red

This was no new snow though

As tongues turned up at the sour

new taste

The children complain

of burning

then the fear sets in

It won't be long now

The sirens scream

like vultures

alerting the prey to

their fate

No need to run

No need to hide

So the children

and the parents

and the lonely souls

sit

and they wait

until the sirens stop

Long time no writing

You know what the worst thing in the world is?

No

not that

not genocide

murder

rape

those are all awful

but I'm terribly selfish

The worst thing in the world

is dreaming

not of the future

the past

or the present

not really

It is

dreaming of those we lost

like they're alive

they've come back

But not really

it's all a fucking lie

and when you wake up

then it really hits you

Like the worst thing in the world.

A story based on a dream, the dream was better

There is a party in a fairly upscale part of Hollywood. There are a lot of big names there, or at least that is what the host, Juan, is told. He doesn't know just about anyone at the party, though he thinks he recognizes some of them. Juan is fairly short and has short black wear, often wearing the single cheap suit that he owns. He is socializing with everyone, making sure to get his name spread around because at least someone has to remember the host right? This is what he believes, and though it is a tad farcical he may be right, someone will remember him.

He is not alone at this party however, as his boyfriend is also there. His name is Tom and he has been an extra in several films. Juan knows he has been cheating on him, and he knows who with. There is a movie producer named Robert who lives at approximately the half-way point between their two houses, and they have been doing nefarious deeds for sometime now. He has no proof of course, but he knows it deep down in his heart and it is killing him.

That is not the face he puts on at the party however, as he makes sure to greet every guest with the same big smile, and the same compliments about hair or skin or clothes. It has never really mattered to him but he knows appearance is of utmost importance to so many of these other people. He is waiting for someone, though he isn't really sure quite who. He knows it is crucial that he looks for them at the party however, so he wanders around looking for this person who is of utmost importance. On his way he runs into Tom and they simply stare at one another.

"I'm so glad to see you here. It's quite busy here isn't it, really full party. This will be good for you right?" This was Tom, in his surest tones. "I mean I see, a lot of big names. Surprised so many could come really." He looks casually around.

"Yes, it's fantastic, really. I'm sorry I can't really talk now though, got lots of socializing to do." Juan placed emphasis on the word socializing as he stared at Tom. It seemed he didn't get the hint though, and they both walked off like two ships passing in the night. Bastard, Juan thought. He passed someone he thought might be a famous actor but upon tapping his shoulder it turned out to be no one, just a drunk amongst a horde of them. Shrugging his shoulders Juan walked on. He wonders if everyone is just lying to him about this party, if everyone there is just a bunch of no names like him and this entire thing was pointless.

He doesn't let such negative thoughts linger for too long however, he had someone important to find. He guessed he had searched his entire apartment so squeezed past a couple dancing before emerging onto the tiny balcony that overlooked the industrial portion of the city. He had thought there was no one out there, but just as he was beginning to get lost in his own thoughts a quiet voice spoke up next to him.

"Quite a view isn't it? I've always admired the works of humanity. The trash and the treasure." Juan turned to look at the man. He stood at about six feet tall and was completely unassuming otherwise, wearing a white button-down shirt and black pants, with a plain black tie. If he had to guess this man was an accountant, or maybe a shoe salesman. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. I'm just an observer, not one of these Hollywood types. Hmm, yes it's a nice view."

"Um, yeah I guess it is."

"It really isn't though. That's what all the people here will tell you, that it's a nice view. They'll only say that if you say it first though." Now the man was staring into Juan's eyes and he realized there was something strange about this man. His eyes were incredibly intense, and they had so little color that they seemed to blend in with the rest of his face, just a little black dot that showed where he was looking. "Do you keep your cash underneath your bed or in your toilet?"

"The bed. I mean what?"

"Thank you, that's all I need to know. I bid you good night."

"But, but I don't even know who you are."

"Me, I'm no one. Just a regular Joe Schmoe I suppose. Sorry for taking your time." And with that he left and Juan was left alone on the balcony like he always thought he was. He stared out at all the waste that was made, human and otherwise, and wondered what it was all for. He was not sure how long he was out there, but by the time he went back inside there was almost no one left. Tom had left, as had everyone who was worth anything, or at least those who said they were. It didn't really matter though as Juan collapsed to the one seat that seemed relatively clean.

Across from him sat a man in a suit from some upscale dress outlet, Juan could never tell them apart. He figured he should start a conversation, but his mind was in such a strange place he couldn't even think to ask the man who he was or what he did. "Hello, I was wondering, do you think hitmen feel bad when they kill murderers?" That was an odd thing to say Juan thought even as he spoke. The other man stared at him, not confused but somewhat amused.

"Well in the end most hitmen are simply people like us right, regular Joe Schmoes. They probably don't feel good, but they also don't feel too bad right. It's just a job in the end, admittedly a bit more exciting than what you do." He had a point Juan supposed as he lay back in his seat. It had been a long night and sleep slowly curled around him and his eyes slowly closed as he saw a few people pass by heading for the door. It had been a good party he thought, after all he met someone important, maybe even more than one. Just before he lost all consciousness he saw the door close one more time and a receipt was tacked to the back of it. He couldn't see what it said.

Dared to Move

There are people moving
All around
But yet
I seem to stay

Still

I want to go
To move on
But the monster
holds me back

He is not large
In fact he's really not there at all
Just a void
Grabbing me
Holding
If I let go he dies and he can't let that
I can't

Maybe it would be better
To quit it all
Away
Forever free
I know
It won't
But sometimes I wish
I could just move

John's Journal

Entry of the 7th of July, 1968

Entry Title: Birth of a God

I have observed these beings I have come to call gods over a very long time, but never before have I seen one in the making. Previously I believed that all gods simply came into being at the same time as humans did, many thousands of years ago. There are exceptions, yes, but aside from greater beings like Life and Death they are simply human quantities that have and will always exist. This is different though, and it has been made clear that this situation will require careful observation.

I speak of course of a boy in the north of the United States, one young John Presence. He came out of the womb early, almost three full weeks, and so is small and weak but still he struggles on. Though he was born mere days ago he shows signs of rapid aging, understanding most of what is going on around him. The physiologists who have examined him believe he will speak within a a few short days, and it is unknown what will happen afterwards, though a great amount of experimentation is expected. This young boy though seems to repulse all those who study him. It is not because he is physically ugly either, he is a very average, though small, boy.

It is almost as if there is a field around him that prevents anyone from getting close. The doctors tell me that even his own mother dislikes to hold him. She loves him when he is at an arms distance, but she can not hold him for longer than several minutes without putting him down. I will have to see this for myself of course and I will depart soon, but I believe he may represent something more than a mere boy. I believe he represents the very concept of Repulsion, and that as he grows there will be more obvious signs of this godly power.

Entry of the 13th of July, 1968

Entry Title: Impossible Abilities

It seems I was correct in my assertion, this boy is something much more than his outward appearance indicates. It is strange that something like this would occur in this day and age, I though tall the gods had been born, but apparently the world is much more malleable than I expected. The boy is speaking now, though he does not understand grammar he can still communicate in a rudimentary fashion. He has also began to crawl, and is showing many signs of mental development far greater than even I anticipated.

However ignoring these developments he has also shown something positively impossible, he has the ability to move objects without touching them. This was first evidenced when upon being giving milk he threw the bottle across the room without even touching it. I was not in the room, but from what I here the reactions were to be expected, with doctors and nurses swarming in to observe this strange behaviour. I have heard of cases similar to this, though with different abilities, though I never imagined that something like this would occur in my lifetime.

Since then the boy has thrown several things across the room, though nothing larger than a bottle. It seems that he is still gaining control of this power, though if he ever does it is difficult to imagine what he might do with it. It has been determined that John will become a property of the state since the mother seems unwilling to care for him, as she is repulsed even by his presence now. I do not know what this will do to the boy's mental state, but it surely will not be good for his development.

From now on I will be one of his watchers, a group of government employees from a number of nations who have been commissioned to observe him at all times. The press has not yet picked up on this, and we will attempt to shut out the media but it is inevitable this will get out, by bribes if nothing else. When that happens who knows what kind of reaction the public will have, if they will want to burn him like a witch or worship him like a god. I pray for his soul if that ever happens, for whatever way the public chooses it will not end well for him.

Entry of the 27th of May, 1970

Entry Title: Progress

The boy now talks like someone over twice his age, I suspect that before he is five he will be more literate than most adults. His thirst for knowledge is impressive, and I suspect the only thing that keeps him going day to day as he is locked up in this cell we have created for him. Since his second birthday we moved him to a small house with a decent sized yard but I can tell he yearns for more. For now he is content with the books we have given him, though I suspect if he wants to escape he will, and there is little we can do to stop him.

Last week he moved his bed closer to the window. It is clear that he could not do it himself, so he must have used his power. This shows an unexpected increase in power since what he has last demonstrated. I still do not know if he can move people, and we hesitate to experiment, but it seems it is only a matter of time, and not much of it.

In my off days I have been searching news stories and the birth records of two years ago looking for his double. Every god I have observed has had an opposite. The relationship is often difficult to ascertain, especially with these more human qualities, but they are often intimately related. So far there has been nothing that seems unusual, though I will continue searching. Given how covered up this boy's birth was it is also possible that the girl has been hidden from the world as well, possibly in a similar are of confinement.

Within the next five years I intend to find this girl, no matter what it takes. It is imperative they meet, especially at an early age. I am sure that Fate has something to say about this as well, but I can always help things along. I do wish that I could meet one of them, and they could tell me what I should do, but alas none of the gods have shown, not even some of the lesser ones.

Entry of the 19th of December, 1975

Entry Title: Christmas

Soon it will be Christmas, a day that John looks forward to very much. We always get him new books at Christmas, and at his birthday, and though he has a nearly inexhaustible library he treasures these more than anything else. He especially likes the book I get him, and I suspect that means he likes me. I also suspect that is the reason he has not left. His powers have grown so much, that if he wanted to leave there is nothing we could do to stop him.

Yesterday we decided to try throwing snowballs at him and see if he could stop them. It seemed like it was barely any effort for him, and just like many recent exercises he seems to grow bored with the constrained tests we do. I can see in his eyes that he wishes we would really test him. The army wants to try shooting bullets by him, but we have decided it is too dangerous, after all he is just a boy.

Now though he doesn't like to be called boy anymore, and given his mental state I have adhered to that. It seems though that his "repulsion field' as I have grown to call it has grown stronger. The maids that we hire rarely last for more than a couple of weeks before asking to be re-assigned. I am one of a small group of watchers who have stayed, and all of the new watchers last longer than a month. I have noticed that sometimes the boy physically pushes people away, not on purpose, but simply by his presence others are forced away. I believe this is a manifestation of his powers, and one that he can not control consciously. It affects those who have been with him longest less, but there is still a noticeable pull. I believe it is now impossible for him to live a normal life.

I still have not found the girl who is John's opposite and it torments me to no end. Now that there are fewer watchers I have less and less time to go out and try to find her, though I still search the records at the library on my off-days. The weather here is cold but I don't mind, it kind of reminds me of home. I doubt I'll ever see that place again.

Entry of the 5th of February, 1978

Entry Title: Gone

John walked out today. I had known it was coming for some time, but I still prayed that he would wait for a few more years at least. Now a boy of nine has gone and will be forced to make his own way. I don't doubt that he can do it, after all he can take anything he wants to and no one can stop him, but still I fear that it will destroy him mentally. I tried to stop him, we all did, but he refused to listen to us, and walked out the gates. He showed his power too, he ripped the gates off their hinges and threw them into the street, though he did not harm us. He said we'd been good to him, and he regretted leaving, but he had to go and see the world for himself.

I don't blame him really, though I fear that once the world is aware of his presence things will get a lot more complicated. Maybe he will find his opposite, something that I could never do. If he doesn't I'm afraid a huge gulf will appear between him and humanity, as his repulsion field has grown stronger. Now it is not just people who are repulsed, it is objects. I have seen him fly, just a few inches off the ground but still, his power is greater than we ever anticipated. He will be worshiped as a god, and he knows it, though he detests it.

I told him about the gods that I had discovered, about how the world works, and he laughed at me. He said that it doesn't really matter what people believe, they are all proved wrong in the end. Maybe it is his readings that have given him this idea, or maybe his twisted sense of reality wherein everyone has abandoned him, even me. In those final days none of us could get close to him, and in the end we all stopped trying. In all likelihood he will survive better than the rest of us who have lived with him for these ten years, I don't know what I will do now that he is gone.

Entry of the 4th of July, 1982

Entry Title: War

They tried to kill John. I don't know what government did it, no one does really, though we all have suspicions. It doesn't really matter now anyway, they didn't succeed. Apparently John has been sufficiently paranoid these past years, especially after footage of him ripping up trees surfaced. The bullet stopped about a foot from him and was sent back to kill whoever shot it. After that everything kind of went to chaos, as John was living in New York at the time, and the UN declared John was too dangerous, and he had to be stopped.

It turns out that killing John was not as easy as decreeing it. The streets filled with tanks and soldiers and the skies filled with planes and helicopters but it didn't help. John has become a God, as powerful as any deity in any mythology, at least to us. He ripped cars from the street and ripped people apart. They never stood a chance, as he blocked their bullets and sent them back. From the little footage that was available it seems he even ripped up a small building and crushed a tank with it. I believe that only one of the original watchers or I can stop him now. Though he has not yet decided that humanity is reprehensible given his current state it is only a matter of time, and then no one will live.

I have found someone I believe might be his partner, if they were to meet then maybe we stand a chance. She was born several years earlier than him which is why I couldn't find her before. From what I understand she has developed quite a following in her home town. I hope to find her and convince her to help John, otherwise the consequences could be most dire.

Entry of the 10th of May, 1985

Entry Title: The End

John decided not to end humanity. It took a long time to find him, and even longer to convince him but I believe Anna is truly his partner. Together they are finally at peace. I do not know what will happen next, but it seems that they are done with this world. It seems I am done with this world as well, though in a different way. I was diagnosed about a year ago with terminal cancer and though they have done so much treatment it doesn't seem to be helping. I suspect we will leave at the same time, John and me, though to different destinations.

I can leave the world in peace though, knowing that whatever I did I made a difference, I saved people. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had gone with my first instinct upon seeing that babe in that room, that new god. If he had died then it would have saved so many lives, but instead I saved his. Now he ascends, and whatever happens next at least it will be over.

'tis the season

Only one country
would reduce all the colors
and smells
and texture
and life
and death
to a simple word
Fall

A Night in Scotland

There is a lonely man sitting on a cliff just off the edges of civilization somewhere in the hills of Scotland. He doesn't quite remember getting there, though he knows why he came. He wears a tattered suit and his skin is as white as the foam beneath him. Really all he wanted was to be alone for once in his very, very long life but alas, he couldn't even get that. Beside him now sits a woman wearing what looks something like a funeral gown, frightening thin though it is she does not seem to be bothered by the cold. Both of them have their legs hanging out over the oblivion beneath. There is silence aside from the sea. Finally the man speaks.

"I don't know why you're here but I don't think it's for the right reasons. Of course I'm not sure I'm here for the right reasons. In fact I'm no longer sure if any of us are here for the right reasons. Maybe I'm just musin', been known to do that on occasion. It wasn't your business that started this, I just want you to know that. Certainly didn't help though, but didn't cause this. Nothing really caused this, I mean it's just time right, starts and end all things. Bit odd though isn't it, I never met him. Don't even know if he exists, only one who'd know that and doubt she's telling. Don't mean to drone on though, sure there's something you want to say. Some explanation I suppose, well I'm all ears."

The woman bit her lip and looked at the man. Her eyes were as white as the first snow yet radiated immense darkness. "What happened between us, do you know why? I suppose you must, after all you seem to know everything don't you. I know a great many things, or at least thought I did, but even still I'm not sure why it had to happen like it did. I guess he was just tired, I mean we all get tired, the days stretch on and on. Oh sorry, I didn't mean to pun. He just, he gets a bit sensitive sometimes and acts very rashly. He didn't mean anything by it. After you left we sorted some things out, I mean it'll be years before I trust or even see him again but it's all a bit better now. He won't have me killed again at least, and that's better than nothing."

"That's not why I'm here though. I've put all that behind me, and you should too. I'm here because you need somebody and you seem afraid to call her. You know she'd come and listen right? She'd protect you from whatever you're running from. Life, she would understand what you're going to more than any of us." The woman looks at the man inquisitively. "Or is it because of her, has something happened?"

"No, nothing has happened. That's the problem though, right. She's been around for ages and I haven't. No matter what I remember or what I've been through she will have always seen more and lived more. She's the progenitor right, and I'm just, I'm nothing compared to that. None of us are. I mean what do you do? Don't mean nothing by it but she is, she's on a 'nother level right. That's why I can't talk to her, I just feel like I ain't in it now. I don't know if you get what I mean, it's a bit much even for me and I been around a long time."

The woman shakes her head as she looks at the man who simply trails off and stairs out at the sea and the setting sun. "You idiot. She loves you you know. I know she loves everyone but you, she loves you the most. If you just go to her, if you talk to her she will help you. I know you didn't come out here just to think, and I can even hazard a guess as to what you're planning to do. Problem is though, you know it won't work. You seen the death of everything right. Nah, that's not right. You see the death of everything, right now, at this very moment. You can see it all come to an end, but you can't see your own. That's what's troubling you isn't it? You don't see the mantle passing and you don't know what it means."

"I got a few words for that, and though I haven't been around for that long here's what I think. You know things about everyone else right, you know the end of the fish down there and the tree up here and even this whole thing we're standing on, but you don't know shit about yourself do you? That's the way it's supposed to work I figure. For things like us, it isn't all predetermined. You explained it once though didn't you, you know the date and the time but you don't know where to be until that exact moment. You don't choose when your hourglass runs out but you do choose where and why right? Or at least the lucky ones do. That's how it works for all this real stuff, but we are different aren't we? You can't see my thread can you?"

The man called Death stared at her. "No, no I can't can I."

"It's the uncertainty then right, that's what scares you. Bit bloody ironic then isn't it, only thing that Death is afraid of is death. Same situation with the rest of us. I live through the night, the dreams and hidden desires of the world, but often I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, especially after that thing with Day. I shouldn't need to know though. I should just accept things as they happen, and try to make the world a bit of a better place. That's what I'm going to do, but what about you, I suppose that's the million dollar question."

"I could jump I suppose. Land in the water or on the rocks I don't think it would matter. That could be my end."

"You don't believe that."

"No. If I did jump I think I would just emerge somewhere else. There are a thousand people dieing right now and there will be more every second until this all comes to an end. If I were to leap I think I'd just be in Prague, or maybe Nigeria, or any other place where the dead need escorting. You know what they say, there are only two things that are certain in life, death and taxes. I'm not so sure about that second one. I help people though, not even just the dead ones either. I helped a little girl, and a broken man, and a poor old sinner. Some asked and others begged but it didn't really matter, I would have helped either way. I guess that's why I'm still here, I just wish, hmm, I don't know."

Death stood up and walked over to the nearest tree. The leaves on it had already fallen onto the ground and into the sea and it was stripped bare. There was a small hole in the bark and he reach in and brought out a shivering bird. He brought it close to his mouth and whispered something into its ear. Pulling it back he released it and it sped off away from the sea, never looking back. "Sometimes I just want to have it all done with. I mean I lived a good life, a solid two hundred years which is a bit better than most I figure. Didn't like my work for any of it, but that just comes with the territory I suppose. Problem is though I can't leave this job on some poor cunt, because I've been doing it for so long it's just part of me now. You ever wonder about the creator? The one before all? I do, every day, but 'course only one who met him was Life right, and she ain't talking, not about the big stuff."

Walking back over to the cliffside Death stretches and yawns. "It's my vigil now though. From now until then, I'll be the one to catch 'em when they fall. Don't like it, but I'm not sposed to I reckon. Well, what do you figure about all of this. Think I'll head off soon, right once the sun goes down. Got work to do right?"

Night stood up and took Death's hands. "You are a great man for taking on this task. Others of us, we were born gods. I have never known anything else but you, you have been mortal. There are tales, whispers of ways to circumvent and cheat and steal mortality, even if only for a moment. I have considered it, I have even sought it, but I will never be mortal and I acknowledge this. It is best not to tread the lines between worlds as it is only pain that lies on either side. I would die a thousand deaths to have lived the way you have. It may be of little comfort but know that all of us have hope because of you. A mortal who became a god not because he had to but because there was no one else who could."

"I have watched you, and even with the greatest burden you have born it the best. Nothing more could be asked, in that you have endured longer than any before you, but I must beg you, do not give up hope. I love you truly, more than any of the others who have taken on your task. I have no right to ask the impossible of you but I feel I must. Please exist, if only for another day, for another year. I know you see so much pain and it hurts you so but only because you are so human, so true." Night looked out over the darkening sky. "I have to go now, you do as well. Whatever you decide to do next you will be remembered. Au revoire." She kissed Death on the forehead and walked out into the night, passed the stars and moon and into the sky.

Soon the full moon had risen and cast a great reflection on the sea, illuminating the cliff in full. There was no longer a man there, only a tree which had been stripped bare, but now had a single leaf holding on to the end of its longest branch. It fluttered in the wind but it did not let go and soon it let up. Then there was only slow swooshing of the water's waves below.