Who Killed Mr. Moonlight - Bauhaus
Shiny leaves bounced in the mediocre shower as I watched two men work in tandem to ease the deceased to his final resting place. Their hair slick and hanging, slapping against cheeks pulled in from exertion and eyes puffy from tears.
The hole was without a headstone, only a mound to indicate a prior individual lay there in the dirt. People needed markers inscribed with comforting verses and clever poems. Humor in the morbid. Couldn't think too hard about the Time, because the rest of the Days would fly by.
I blinked, closing my eyes to hear nature's liquid percussion patter along vinyl tenting and drip off the curved shelter of my umbrella. I was a house. This was my eave. He was buried in my backyard. I pulled my feet out of the gathering muck. It was time to move.
I took a cab back to his apartment. It would always be his in my mind, because I was still a guest. I'd come to help keep him warm, but hadn't earned the right to live in his closet, our clothes mingling, merging and getting lost. Socks of red and black.
A framed photo of us mocked me from the mantel and I lay it face-down. He was gone a week and already I wanted to erase my mind of the happiness. A false start. I'd been left idling in a parking lot where the building was torn down.
I had no meter, only a heart. I wanted to reach inside and turn back the hands, just push back the spring to remember how it felt before I stopped hurting for the right one.
Beautiful descriptions. Very vivid.
This packs an enormous punch, Carrie. So terribly sad, all the more so because it sounds like it could have been something wonderful.
Fantastic as always. Hope that sharing some of that sorrow was/is cathartic.
Any story that starts with Peter Murphy has me by the horns. Rain and loss seem to be soulmates, don't they?
Seriously. This has left me speechless. LOVE.
Vivid descriptions. Awesome writing, as always!
Heart breaking beauty of a story.
The metaphors were really strong and I felt like they connected together well. I also could really feel for the character.
Poetic, vivid, sad... and as usual, very well-written...
Beautiful, and strange-- I want to read it over and over again to try to gather all the threads of what seems to have happened, and what might happened next. Well crafted.
Wonderful Carrie. . . how crazy is it that just as I started reading your story, Bloody Kisses (A Death in the Family) started playing! :)
Maybe it's fate ;)
Beautiful as always Carrie. I know I've said this before, but it couldn't be said enough - your word-weaving astounds me.
I hope I turn into a house when I die, but then I'll spend my duration wondering what happens when I'm bulldozed. Humor in the morbid? Seems like it belongs there. Potent prose as usual, Carrie.
Like last week, since the Comment prompt asks for a link:
You have come into your own, my dear friend. It has been an honor to watch you grow as a writer over the past few years. Never stop creating.
Beautifully written and a touching tribute. I enjoyed it a TON.
Very beautifully written and evocative. I especially liked, "liquid percussion."
Sumptuous language and imagery Carrie.
Heart wrenching. I loved the line "nature's liquid percussion patter along vinyl tenting". Very well written.
I really like "liquid percussion" too.
This is beautiful.
The rhythm and sonics of your language is wonderful. Very musical. And the whole thing really conveyed such a sense of longing.
I leaned in, captivated as I absorbed this line:
"a prior individual lay there in the dirt."
Beautiful and heartwrenching.
sending you love.
Gorgeous. A tapestry of savoury richness.
Some lovely language here. I particularly liked 'I had no meter, only a heart. I wanted to reach inside and turn back the hands, just push back the spring to remember.'
Really gorgeous, and just throbs with feeling.
A very beautiful story. It leaves me wishing I had known the characters before, when they had been together.
So excellent, Carrie. I loved this, nature's liquid percussion patter along vinyl tenting.
I have face down photos...that says it all.
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