Oh, do you remember what happened in my Cliffhanger? And how I was surrounded? Do you remember the darkness of Noir and the vile invention – the Bodysnatcher – which with beams too strong to mention perhaps undid a cyclist in the woods and turned her into dust, because it could – and merely to test the power it could wield, to be sold as an assassin’s tool within the field of removal…
WELL – what was once removed, may be returned, and what was safe might now be quite precarious – time will tell…
Yet what I am
None cares or knows
I am the self-consumer of my woes
And so like shining time, I stretch too thin
You cannot see transparencies within
For now I shift, like dust on water takes
The shape of waves as on the shore each breaks
My molecules undone, I float anon, not wondering, yet wandering where I’ve gone, for I remember some strange thing, as though I could some place within my mind recall a wood…but nay, it cannot be that I should fall so far from that reality – wither have I wandered whence I came, and yet forsooth, I go, ego, again…
Such jumbled, stumbling thoughts and yet, somewhere along the lines they begin to make sense of this peculiar feeling, as though I am…yet I am dust and here I am swept up in sunbeams and carried in swirls of cloud, through patterns of mathematical improbability I never knew existed in nature’s beauty, look – look – so far as the eye can see, I am there: it’s all me!
I am the Earth, on the outside, and within, for it is there, solid, beneath my – wait SKIN!
As though the boundary of self-containment was all I needed to merge, the molecules of altered ego and id came thundering together in cataclysmic silence to once again form…well…form. Me – the me I was before those awful figures stepped out of the mist and surrounded me. The me I was when I was so barriered; so small. The me I was before their undoing turned me into a being capable of encompassing the world…and yet I drifted, with barely enough threads of consciousness to hold all the scattered parts of self together.
Others were there too – I could feel them, and wondered how many more had been turned, like me, to sentient dust.
But now, it seems, with that one solid thought, I am returned to my physical self, and look…I move – I walk – I (could probably cycle, but the bicycle, not being sentient, is still floating free) – I AM. And now, let’s see? Is this a fluke or a one-off? That thought – the concentration of skin was what brought the far-flung parts of me rushing in to fill it, yet will it work in reverse?
And so those stars above me, whose secrets I now know and have danced through, they will bear witness to my efforts to once again undo…and yes; I am melting, drifting, slowly shimmering into dusty eddies in the lazy, night-drenched air of a city I remember like an echo; but wait!
If I can feel my way, even as dust, then I could move, for what dust has ever thought? Until that treacherous day the whole world thought that ashes were ashes and dust was mess, but now this dust, in thinking might progress – YES – I can MOVE!
I am shining through air currents and stroking over leaves – the dewdrops shiver in their watery shells as I pass by in my thought-breeze, because now, if I can, I have a plan and certain vengeance to exact…to learn how long I’ve been away, then find the man who banished me, and make him PAY.
My thanks to Jana from Stop Me If I Told You This, for the prompt of Urban Fantasy