River Night

One

Feeling the crisp air seep into his cracked skin gave Jeremiah a feeling of rejuvenation, not another moment felt separated from the present as he followed the power lines to a quiet petrol station that shimmered in the streetlights. Jeremiah had received a message from a lynx in the forest that he should abandon his tent-dwelling, it was finally time to deliver his body to river man and his flowing hair, to be commanded and separated from his flesh vessel. 

‘Find the first power station’ She said, in soft tones, ‘Follow the powerlines, the thread leads to heaven.’

After walking for miles the powerlines had blended into darkness and were only a faint silver outline in the night sky. Jeremiah set foot on the sacred ground of the Shell station, seeking passage into the jaws of the forest. Approaching the window he took note of the sterile facility, built with an unbearable touch of modernity. Its tile floors were creased with dry dirt and the bright overhead lights were dimmed yellow. As he set foot into the station a burst of cool air conditioning blew the smell of diesel into his face,

 This place is returning back to earth, it plays a poor role of acting as a gate to another realm. 

As Jeremiah mouthed to himself in the window, he saw the glass turn red hot then back into sand and concrete being spat out of a pregnant mixer.

I have found the first ruin.

 Looking over the shelves to those he shared this temple with, a clerk stood behind the counter staring absently beyond any object, he made the faint movements of a paraplegic communicating in languid gestures. Approaching the counter was a well-pressed suit with a pink face, hair slicked with sweat and bad intentions. Jeremiah noticed when the man would flicker his eyes back at him, noting his presence while pretending he didn’t exist. Walking towards the counter Jeremiah cut in front of the man, he was the suit’s ideal picture of a character, Jeremiah resented this execution of his personhood.

Catching the clerks attention with his bright eyes, Jeremiah questioned him,

‘Listen, sailor, you know why I walked into this place, so let's cut the malarkey and get to the chase, where is the power station?’

The clerks ears peeled back like a cat confronted, he gave a quick answer before he outlived his purpose.

‘There is a power station a half mile up the road, sir.’

Before the clerk could be pressed any further the suit butted in,

‘I’m sorry pal, you just cut in front of me, there’s a cue behind you if you didn’t notice.’

Jeremiah wanted to flip his pocket knife right there and teach this creature a lesson. Though, he did not want to violate the serenity of the sacred place. He snarled and scuttled into the bathroom in the back, he needed to get his head together before making his next move.

Two

Pinstripes on his suit were the only vanity Tobias allowed himself after seven years at the firm, since the only difference in his casual wear was being without a tie, he rarely changed his clothes. At the back of his wardrobe, there was a bag of poorly fitting t-shirts and tight jeans, belonging to a younger man he knew only as a ghost. His wife would insist that he donate them to charity, though he’d change the subject before making that commitment. 

After following the same road for hours, he found a service station built by the side of the forest. His wife had insisted that he make it to her parents' house at least 30 minutes before the agreed time of seven o’clock, giving Tobias a deadline to obsess over on the long drive to the secluded home. It felt as if he was always on the clock, reaching one point in his life to another, finding space to breathe before he was given his next obligation necessary for him to take another breath. Tobias had never confided in anyone to say this, as he was grateful that all his responsibilities were more important than most peoples, who did the same grind as he did for less. 

He walked into the station, taking his time perusing the snack aisle in spite of his in-laws, he spent precious minutes weighing up his options, making exaggerated movements when picking up a packet of crisps, before suddenly placing them back down again to study a snickers bar. Finally, he decided on a bag of sour sweets, the kind that hurt your jaw when you chew on them. As he walked up to the counter, some rag with bright eyes sewn in stared at nothing at all through the station window. From a young age, Tobias had been taught to pretend crazy people didn’t exist. If they talked to you on the bus give quick answers and don’t make eye contact, if they reach for their pocket, turn and run away. Despite his efforts, he could not stop glancing at the vagrant as he took disjointed movements around the store. Never had he seen someone walk so sporadically and yet look as if each movement was so purposeful. Every moment they would lock eyes. Usually, Tobias took pity on the homeless, he found himself having intrusive thoughts of filling the shelters with propane gas and setting it alight with a match, watching them run out of the burning building and collapsing in a heap of flame, their skin melting to reveal clean white bone.

He put this down to the stress he was under, from work and his wife to make it to dinner on time. Nevertheless, the vagrant tried his patience. As he approached the counter he was rudely pushed past by him, speaking to the clerk in tongues. 

I’m not going to be pushed around by some fucking rube.

‘I’m sorry pal, you just cut in front of me, there’s a cue behind you if you didn’t -.’

Before he could finish speaking the vagrant pulled a pocket knife and held the point beneath Tobias’s left eye. Tobias did not hear the words the vagrant spoke, he only saw the way in which he moved his lips to make them. 

Three

Held in one moment in time, Jeremiah glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Bursting out of the bathroom while pulling the knife from Tobias’ shoulder, a moment so swift it is only caught in sound, a shriek in the sudden and painful act of violence. Leaping into the door Jeremiah bursts through the glass as it shatters into splinters, then regaining his balance keeps sprinting into the dark forest. Tobias follows through the door behind him, spitting in pain and rage. as he steps onto the empty road, he runs after Jeremiah who’s body snaps through the pine branches leading deeper into the forest. After living in the forest for years Jeremiah swings his body expertly through the forestry with precision and silence. He can hear Tobias behind him, barreling through the twigs with the blind anger of a bear, he tries to shake him but in every direction he turns Tobias follows, coming closer to intercepting him every second. Quickly Jeremiah decides to cut through the tree line that follows the road, reaching the power station was his priority and if he has to bring Tobias then he’ll just have to face the wrath of the Man with Flowing Hair along with him. 

Despite the twigs cutting shallow scars into his face, he keeps his eyes locked onto the feet of Jeremiah. Following each twist of his shrivelled body while ignoring the pain of the roots snagging at his ankles and bristles of bushes prickling his skin, the more he hurt the less his mind settled with his body and carnal instinct guided him. After almost losing the trace of Jeremiah, the trees broke out into a clearing, a slight wind flowing across the grass. Looking around for the vagrant, Tobias realised he had been chasing a shadow, he looked down at his tattered clothes stained with the blood dripping down his arms and legs. His car was too far away now, he had gotten himself lost trying to hunt a tramp that would have killed him if confronted. 

There was a tower in the distance, a red dot blinked in the sky like the belt of Orion. 

Perhaps somebody there could help me.

He began walking towards the power station, he felt his tendons stretch like rubber. Tobias hadn’t ran like that in years. 

Ahead, Jeremiah knelt at the altar of the chain fence that surrounded the station, he was carving a hole with pliers he pulled from his backpack. Tobias stood not so far behind him, watching Jeremiah break into the power station. 

Let the junky get himself killed. Watch the fireworks burn.

A voice told him.

Jeremiah crawled through the hole. Touching his hands to the plugs. A bright light. Blue flash crackling the forest into exploding stars. Calm winds blowing through the forest on the sensitive skin of the face. If you could touch me what would your skin feel like? Every day I waited for you to get home but then you retreated and retreated and hid again. Please put down your hands. I can see you. When you touch me you see me. 

Does that make sense?

What if I told you, something other. Somebody else. Would you still hold my embrace? Nothing. Standing still. Forgotten. Not a shadow, no face, just a memory. When you held my hand. Toby?

Goodbye forever.

Fleeting forms of beauty come in every colour. Just watch the leaves. Then you’d rather burn to death than need the winter before summertime. Black tar. Before you sleep watch the red river run down your windowsill, with shame rising into an infinite sadness. A lonely clock tired with time. Running out. Wish you had stuck around.

Hello.

Jeremiah speak. 

We have reached the peak, may we ascend onto heaven?

Heaven is full. Accept death. One man's ego must consume another to be satiated. Yet alone he will starve…

I remember when I was just a child. We lived in the heart of the city, black smog filled the air and polluted the clouds. We were so cold, nobody could afford gas so we heated ourselves up embraced in each others bodies, there was no shame, just love in the corner of the bedroom. My little sister cried out, she hadn’t eaten in days and neither had I. Last night, I left to gather some food before we all became sick and our bodies digested inwards. There was a river nearby, my Mother had said that it was manmade, that the bed was made of concrete. I didn’t trust her, perhaps I wanted the believe the natural world could create something so perfect. Following down the stream I only found weeds and plants that left red rashes on my skin. Falling down the rocks I let the brown water drag me down further, under metal bridges and through steel drains, I was left out to dry on a bank. The shallow waters were filled with swirling black tar and rusted scraps of shopping trollies. I was disgusted that we had turned the ocean into sewage. When I inherit the world I swear I’ll break every bind and chain that attaches man to the green earth. Before I could look to the sky, I saw a bush of blackberries. Running over I grabbed a handful and shoved them in my mouth, they exploded into delicious sour juice that ran down my chin. 

Then I turned to see a corpse. Black swollen eyes, maggots festering in the carcass, thick rats tearing at the bloated thighs of a body in rags. I no longer felt disgusted, death was merely a means to the earth. Bury me without a coffin. I looked around and suddenly it was a beautiful day.

Bleeding the man who wrongs will only stain you. Wild dogs are torn to tatters and make men run without a cure to their heart. Flash delirium. Revolt to the light then breathe and breathe. 

Silence. 

For the first time, Tobias look up and noticed there were stars in the sky. When he would look out of the window in his office the sky was usually a dull yellow from the glare of the street lights. Jeremiah had vanished along with the tower, maybe they had never been there to begin with. Looking down, his clothes were torn to pieces. Tobias checked his watch and realised he was 45 minutes late for dinner with his in-laws. Perhaps he’d wait a little while before calling to tell them he couldn’t make it. 

Sitting on the wet grass, Tobias felt as if he needed to hold onto life, long for peace and then, wait for death. 

End