Moonlost

Tonight I ran after the moon, but never found it.

Death and Decay

The acrid stench was thick in the air, acidic and slightly metallic. Everywhere I looked, glaucous eyes stared back, expressionless yet haunting. The lifeless eyeballs, though devoid of animation, were full of intent. They were oppressing, in their silence, their mute accusations. The carcasses lay there exposed for all to see, raw and their pale transluscent skin shone under the harsh lights, seeming aglow with a gleam of their own. The bodies were stacked neatly in rows, piling up high; no reverence was made to these emptied vessels.

Death.

Death everywhere. Death overwhelming. Everywhere I looked, everywhere I walked, in the air, death. I felt suffocated for the first time. I felt my breathing catch once, twice. This never happened before, not here. I struggled to keep my composure, for I had nowhere to go, nowhere to escape to. I closed my eyes, tried to shut out the images, to chase away the horrors but my mind, with morbid self-cruelty conjured the scenes again and again. When I thought I had finally reached a blankness in my thoughts, the stench assailed me, and my stomach threatened to heave. I opened my eyes in panic, looked around for somewhere to go.

“Here you go sir, that will be six dollars and fifty cents.”

I slapped a ten on the counter, grabbed my two tilapias and ran to fresh air.

Portrait.

Collage

And such.