volsung
writing prompt: modern telling of a fable, fairy/folk tale.
the night i killed fat fucking drago, killed him where he sat, huddled in the dim cavern of a cigar smoke backroom, crouched over his wealth, his hoard, triple columns of red ink and a wall safe full of green presidential portraits; fat neck, fat wrists, fat fingers clotted with soft heavy gold.
the night i killed fat fucking drago, whap whap with a claw hammer, his head egg white in a pool of red numbers and the red ink of his body was all over my fingers as i took the 1st of 3 16 penny nails out of my mouth and placed its point at the intersection of his earlobe and jawline.
the night i killed fat fucking drago i tasted his blood -just a little- when i reached for the 2nd nail and i understood something.
i could hear the language of numbers, a symphonic string section of data poured through me as the world vibrated as if degaussing a monitor.
formulas arranged themselves efforlessly; transparent and imageless as everyday speech. I could see the trails of ones and zeros and decode a bee dance as easily as any slack jawed untermensch takes the punchline out of a friends episode.
the night i killed fat fucking drago, killed him where he sat, huddled in the dim cavern of a cigar smoke backroom, crouched over his wealth, his hoard, triple columns of red ink and a wall safe full of green presidential portraits; fat neck, fat wrists, fat fingers clotted with soft heavy gold.
the night i killed fat fucking drago, whap whap with a claw hammer, his head egg white in a pool of red numbers and the red ink of his body was all over my fingers as i took the 1st of 3 16 penny nails out of my mouth and placed its point at the intersection of his earlobe and jawline.
the night i killed fat fucking drago i tasted his blood -just a little- when i reached for the 2nd nail and i understood something.
i could hear the language of numbers, a symphonic string section of data poured through me as the world vibrated as if degaussing a monitor.
formulas arranged themselves efforlessly; transparent and imageless as everyday speech. I could see the trails of ones and zeros and decode a bee dance as easily as any slack jawed untermensch takes the punchline out of a friends episode.
posted by zombi_king at 11:49 am
4 Comments:
That is fucking awesome. That's all that can come out my mouth at this time...
However, I recognize the prompt from Cobb's fiction class,and she might NOT like it, but who gives a shit.
It feels like a cross between William Gibson and Neil Gaiman, or maybe I'm too stupified right now...
that was indeed awesome.
thanks dudes.
I'm a fan of this post, but I think you could spice it up a little if you added some spies or some dialogue with drago's corpse.
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