|Howling at God submitted 2008.12.20 11:28 AM by Stixs viewed 2168 times|
|For Ess2s2's 600 word Flash Fiction Contest|
TITLE: "Howling At God"
USED: phrase "Scarlett Johansson"
WORD COUNT: 417
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His face showed no signs of emotion.
A small crowd had gathered around him, gesticulating to one another. His body was frail and withered, but you couldn't see that just by looking at it, because it was covered in sand, dirt, and blood.
His final fleeting thoughts were about his current predicament. The transient images were nothing but bright orgasms of color in front of his eyes, but his brain could understand them. He could make out everything with an eerie clairvoyance, even though the images were just his circuitry backfiring before shutting down.
The crowd around him grew in size and cacophony. He shut his eyes tightly and floated slowly back to the balcony, landing safely on his feet. He put his boots back on and walked through the open screen door. He sat back down on the sofa and flipped the noise-box back on.
He waited patiently while his emotions surged back into his blood. Slowly, he regained control of his body. He turned the noise-box off and walked back into the kitchen. He picked up the knife and started to wash it.
Blood is a pesky thing, he thought to himself, it's very hard to wash off, especially out of the deep grooves of an antiquated paring knife. He kept focused on the task at hand, and gave a short side-glance to the woman lying on the floor. . .what did she say her name was? Scarlett Something-or-other.
Scarle tt Johansson, his brain corrected him.
Right, right. . .
He put the knife in the drying rack and bent down towards the woman. Her face had a squalid look of disbelief in it??a look of betrayal; he quickly turned his attention away from it and onto her hands. He picked up her left hand and gave it a quick kiss, glanced around nervously, and bit off the pinky nail, chewing it gingerly, enjoying the taste of his own flesh caught beneath it.
He went back into the living room and sat down on the sofa before finally deciding to drown his thoughts out with the noise-box. He sat there for a while, letting the nuisances of daily life manifest themselves in a nightmarish world full of disease and war.
He turned the noise-box off and stepped out onto the balcony. His boots were too heavy and unstable so he took them off before stepping up onto the railing. He looked down at the boardwalk and wiped the smirk off his face.
He began howling her name at God.
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