Erysichthon smiled.
Erysichthon smiled.
Erysichthon smiled.
Eons of star galaxy spaceship floating.
Erysichthon took the step he always already had
meant to be taking earlier. Stars of galaxies and space and floating. A long
strand of short red hair in his mouth, and black metal pins through his back.
Looking inwards he whispered.
-“I am not sure anymore, if I ever was.”
Houx, a short fat balding French writer of fiction,
sat in the blue oval chair.
-“Movie dialogue needs to be pithier, I think.”
He said.
-“Yes, true. But I am not a movie”. Erysichthon
answered. Any calm had left him. His calves vibrated slightly, only slightly.
-“Still,” He continued, alone ”am I not
mistaken. Am I not doing what should not be done? Am I not transparent, now, am I not…”
A large marble eyeball crashed through the
roof. Erysichthon leaped towards the control module, his taut lean muscular
body gleaming through space, and before he landed, with catlike poise and
aplomb, he removed the dictionary from his pants, and smiled sadly.
Houx had begun gutting fish that he removed
from a large whicker basket at a leisurely pace.
-“There are more words, you know. More…apt…maybe.”
He threw the fish guts on the floor.
A dress with flowers fell out of the large dark
mahogany cupboard. Smaller birds sat still. The flowers did not bleed.
-“I will do harm” Said Erysichthon, his face
red with fear and anger. “I will do harm.”
A.N Houx. The Erysichthon Chronicles, vol 1 (1989, unpublished)
