I decide to just write, let the words flow and just let my consciousness flow out as if that were the only thing to exist at the moment in time. It happens, the gate opens up and the flood of words come out. I imagine that I’m a writer, writing about another writer who has Writer’s Block. I want him to overcome his little problem and it clicks. This is who I want to be. It’s a mirror behind you and front of you, all you have to do is look in and the depths extend themselves into infinity. The shit scary part about all of this is that that I’m writing this as I’m thinking it.

So my next thought is to imagine a guy who needs something to do. He’s the guy who sits at work bored out of his skull with nothing to do but browse internet sites and do crossword puzzles. He writes on the paper letting words flow through is mind. That’s what he does at that moment, and in that moment he realizes his vocabulary is about as big a snail’s shell. Still, he figures out eighty percent of the words. So he’s not that bad after all. Maybe he just needs some inspiration, like snot faced workers who don’t know when to shut their mouths or cold dry weather. Neither of them work.

It may be that this guy needs something else. He needs something to think about. Something he feels.

So what’s he feeling? Frustration, anger, agitation? Yes he’s feeling that but he’s also feeling thirst and a little hunger but those are physical. Those are the things that stay in the moment and go if you choose to let them go. Maybe he’s got to see around him. The screen planted on his desk he hasn’t switched on, or the cloth with a square tile design dividing his cubicle from his manager and colleagues or does he look at the phone with a missed call on it that he knows he’ll eventually get if he waits long enough. Those are just three things to look at and god damn he forgot that his desk is so damn untidy. That’s mostly because of the ridiculous amount of power strips sitting on the desk with cables stretching over the cubicle dividers like black tentacles drawing power into lifeless silicon. Ha!

Then he sees a box with magnetic tapes that the company uses for backups. I’ll be damned if that these each cost around two thousand rands per tape. For a small device that probably costs a fraction of what it’s paid for it’s pretty ridiculous.

So he realizes that this is a pretty pointless rambling on about some random items.

Well hey! I forgot I had writer’s block.

Thanks dude. Your cubicle was awesome, we’ll talk again.

Gideon exhaled slowly.  It’s been a tough week, and he had to admit it: there was an end to it at last. In addition the office had always felt like a cage, with thick eight millimeter glass and black rubber tile with sharp edges on every piece of furniture. On the plus side it did feel protective. The lights above seemed to be chosen highlight the sterility of the room. Add to this the camera monitoring the glass door for anyone entering and leaving. Gideon couldn’t help but feel imprisoned.

Add the disciplinary hearing for being five minutes late while being stuck in traffic today and well, things couldn’t be much worse off. Well, they could but it didn’t feel that way.

Seven-thirty p.m. That was the time, at least that’s what it was, not what it actually felt like. It felt closer to midnight with the way he felt. There was nobody left in the office, and he knew that if he didn’t leave now he’d get a mouthful from Anna. So it was time to go, at least he knew what he’d get there.

His cellphone rang, vibrating on the desk with a buzz-buzz. The LCD was scratched and some buttons faded but it was still working. That was at least reliable in his life. He wished his colleagues were. Gideon picked up the phone and looked at the name on the Display. His jaw clenched and fist tightened it’s already tight grip on the phone. The call was answered . Picking up the phone he spoke, “Hi.” Smiling was a hard thing to do but he was trying, knowing what was coming and from whom at this hour. “Hi Hon.” She was smiling.

This was unusual. By now he’d be going red in the face and apologizing profusely. Not today though. In a way he was relieved, but something did feel wrong. An ill feeling was gripping his stomach. It was the feeling of fear. It was that oh shit feeling you got when you were in deeper than you thought, and it wasn’t going to stop soon. Something in her voice just felt wrong, it was too cheery.

“Hi. How are you?” he ventured.

“I’m fine. How are you?”

She’s never this nice.

“I’m fine thanks,” a smile strained into Gideon’s jaws “how was your day?”

“Oh fine fine, you know, work is work.” She always liked to say that when she hid things.

“That’s good love, do you want to go out tonight?” Gideon figured that this was the best way to get information out of her.

“It’s ok Hon. I already ordered some food, it should be there for you when you’re at home.”

“That’s awesome, thank you.” The restraint in Gideon’s voice was showing, and Anne wasn’t showing anything in her voice also.

“Well, call me just before you get home okay? I’ll have it warm for you. Oh and I have a surprise for you. Giddy, I love you!”

The call cut and Gideon found himself sweating. He was tensing up by the minute. The lights in the office were too bright and he felt the urge to get out of the office into fresh air. Gideon found himself stifled, each breath shorter than the previous. The knot in his stomach was becoming worse and he found himself struggling to stand as he packed his bag to go out. He had to get out.

Gideon’s phone rang. He looked at the number and recognized it instantly. Candice. That woman had no life, and worse, she had an attitude about dealing with anyone who helped her out. “Hello, who’s this?” Who else worked these ridiculous hours and still did it for the love of the job bitch?

“Gideon, How can I help?” The strain in Gideon’s voice was worse now, barely concealing the frustration built up over the week.

“Who did I speak to earlier? I’m having the same problem and my inbox disappeared. I can’t do my job. I’m going to quit! You’re fucking useless!”

Gideon took a slow breath in, and breathed out. Candice tried to play around and changed some arbitrary setting on her computer and screamed at his manager, who in turn screamed at Gideon and who at last got a mouthful of complaint for her own error.

“Just click on the plus sign Candice, remember?”

“Oh! Now you’re going to say it’s my fault. Why don’t you people teach us properly, you know, when David was around we never had to do this, he wouldn’t even ask us to do anything and he’d just help us.” And that was what got him fired. He began to tremble now. The sweat dripping off his forehead.

“I need to go.” He dropped the phone from the handset and began to stumble, his body was getting weaker. His stomach was feeling like was collapsing into a black void. Suddenly his head began to throb. Candice was still shouting into the phone and then a beeeeeeep sounded through the handset. Gideon began to grunt and stood up, barely.

He had to get to open air. The lights around him were blinding now and whiter than any white he ever saw in his life. His head began to throb lightly at first, and then pulse more. Gideon held onto his head and dropped from standing, feeling panic rising inside. He grunted trying to control his breath as much as possible. It wasn’t working. The throbbing ceased, he began to sweat and the world moved out of focus and in it again. His vision turned red, and then gained their colours into normality but the pain remained.

Sounds of moaning and heavy breathing overtook his hearing and mind. There was a woman and a man. The woman was shouting, the man grunting in ecstasy. Gideon knew the voice but didn’t want to. He felt anger burning inside, growing, writhing and wanting to burst forth from him.

The vision cleared and another followed. “Have you found a job yet?”

“No, I haven’t. Get off my back, I don’t need you to tell me what to do.” The man sounded angry.

“I’m just trying to help you Grant. I won’t be around forever.”

“I told you I’m working on something, after that we won’t have to worry about money.”

The woman paused for a moment almost hesitant and continued. “I know what you want to do. Don’t do it Grant. I’ve seen everything. Both you and that new girlfriend of yours. It’s going to get you into more trouble than it’s worth. We already moved three times. I don’t want to go again.”

Grant turned around and glared at the older woman and lifted her by her neck with calloused hands.

“Bitch. I told you to stay out of my room. Now I’m going to punish you.”

“Don’t do this. I bore you for nine months and protected you from when you were a baby. Please! Don’t! Don’t do this!”

The man dropped one arm and launched a punch into the woman’s stomach and dropped her.

“I’ll do whatever I want and when I want and there is nothing that you can do about it. You want me to stop paying for your doctor appointments? Is that what you want? Fine. That’s what I’ll do. Bitch.”

The man called Grant spat in her face and stormed out of the apartment.

God no. What’s happening to me? Thought Gideon. Suddenly a voice erupted into his mind like a black echo.

Give in to me.

Who are you?!

Give in to me. I am vengeance.

A gust of pain blasted outward from his brain.

Give in to me and you will see the truth.

What? What are you talking about? GET OUT OF MY HEAD!

You will see. I will come when you need me.

The pain ceased but the fear remained. His head felt normal again and so did his body. Lights around him normalized. Gideon didn’t know what to make of this event. Eventually he reached the lifts after scanning his access card. The voice sounded so familiar, but darker, more frightening. Yet part of him wanted to believe it.

His cell phone began to ring. He ignored it. Already feeling inflamed, Gideon ran-walked to the lifts out of the exit door scanning his access card on the reader and called a lift. He picked up the phone and saw who was calling, it was Anne.

“Hon, are you okay?”

Trying not to sound like the wind had just been knocked out of him, “Sure, just fine. Why? What’s wrong?”

“No, just making sure, you were taking long. That’s all.”

Then it struck him, he knew the voice.

“Uhm, I’m already down the lift. I’ll see you later.”

He cut the call. Avoiding was the only option after making the realization. Gideon suspected Anne could sense he was picking up something.

The parking lot outside was barely lit with old tarmac and worn parking lines arranged into grids the size of a car. There was a boom across the road recently knocked by a large vehicle, and a guard station with a large palisade gate. The walls were lined with barbed wire with the eastern wall facing a northbound highway. The south facing wall had a barely lit pathway leading to Smit Street. In the dim light the city looked asleep, as if the craziness itself were simply resting itself like a baby at night. Gideon knew this was an illusion because people were mugged and robbed at knifepoint around here. Who knows what else happened in the alleyways around the parking lot across the road.

The hairs on Gideon’s neck prickled. He stopped dead. I have a surprise for you. Swearing, he carried on walking to the gate where a security guard had spotted him and was waiting to open the gate.

“Working late again?”

“Later than you think.” Replied Gideon

The gate opened with a heavy creek. Both Gideon and the guard were walking out onto the street facing the outside parking lot.

“You need to park inside next time. It’s not safe. Next time I lose the keys.” The guard grinned at his little joke. Gideon wasn’t impressed. They walked on.”Ok No problem”, said Gideon noncommittally. There wasn’t much you could do about bad attitudes from security guards. After all, they were the ones that held the keys to you leaving for home.

The outside parking lot was darker than the building’s thanks to no lights and trees being planted around the cracked tar. The gate was opened and the guard waited. Gideon went to the car parked at the eastern end of the lot. He pressed the button to unlock the car but no lights came on. Typical, the car had to do this on a night when he most wanted to be away from a glass cage and frustrating girlfriend. He swore loudly.

Luckily the remote had a spare key on the passenger side. The car unlocked just fine with the spare key. Once in the vehicle the card was inserted and start button pressed. Suddenly there was a knock on the passenger door. Gideon drew in a long breath and blew it out.

There was a gun planted against the window. Gideon’s heart rate climbed again. This was too much. The sweating began again.

A white face with brown eyes looked at him and pointed to the door handle with his free hand. Gideon tensed up and pressed the button to unlock the car. The man got in.

“Drive,” The man’s voice was hard but he only looked ahead, not making eye contact. Gideon’s hands were shaking by now, but he pressed the ignition button and the car started. He reversed the vehicle out of the parking bay and drove toward the exit. The security guard was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s the guard?” Gideon tried to make out his facial outline under the mask. He hadn’t seen the man before.  “Drive, or I shoot.” The man kept looking ahead, avoiding Gideon’s eyes. The gun was pushed into Gideon’s side.  Something was familiar about his voice. Gideon couldn’t place it, so he drove on.

The car turned left into Enoch Sontonga. The lights were out on the road, and there seemed to be some kind of power failure.  After passing a large green park the car stopped at a robot.

“What do you want? I don’t have money to give you. “The feeling of the gun barrel was painful against his clothing. Strangely Gideon wasn’t afraid. It was as if something was going to happen he was prepared. Nothing prepares you for a situation quite like being in it.

“Are you going to kill me?” No answer came. The gun was pressed harder into Gideon’s side. “Tell me, so I can at least let my girlfriend know. Are you going to kill me?”

“Go straight. When I say turn you turn. Don’t push me, bitch.”

That did it, those words confirmed everything. Gideon’s head began to throb. In a flurry of motion he jammed the handbrake and stopped the car.

Are you ready?

Yes.

“Hello Grant.” The words came from Gideon’s mouth but they were not his. There was darkness around him now, a power. The man turned his head sharply to his right staring at Gideon. His eyes were afraid. He was not expecting this.

“Surprised? Mmm. Let’s go for a ride!” Gideon’s face was stuck in a grin.

“How do you know my name?!”

Grant was staring at Gideon. Gideon turned momentarily and simply smiled. The gun pressed harder into his side. Gideon’s expression turned hard and angry. “You don’t want to shoot me. You want to shoot yourself.” Grant’s right arm stiffly raised itself to the horror of its holder. Slowly it began to point at his temple. Grant’s eyes widened and pupils dilated in response.

“What are you doing?! Stop! Please!” The hardness of face turned back to a grin. “Me? Well I’m not doing anything. You are pointing the gun at your head. Not so?”

“Are you afraid of dying? I am. It scares the crap out of me. Hey, let’s keep the gun there in case you misbehave. I’ll let you live if you answer my questions.” Grant was struggling with the gun with his left and slowly too did his left arm plant itself firmly on his side.

“What the fuck man! Please don’t do this. I wasn’t going to kill you!” Tears began to fall from Grant’s eyes as he said this, slurring on every word.

“LIAR!” Gideon’s face turned hard in an instant. “Do you think I don’t know? Do you think that I didn’t anticipate your coming Grant. You’re a liar – And a bad one at that. Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire. Now shut your ugly mouth before you get to taste that hard metal you’re holding.”

Grant began to sniffle, not knowing what to do. “Okay man. I’m sorry. Just please let me go. I promise you’ll never see me again.”

“Hey! I forgot. You have a mask on. Take it off, would you kindly?” Gideon cheerily asked as Grant’s left hand slowly pulled off the mask from the top of his head and held onto it and remained firmly at his side.

“Let’s play a game. You ask my questions, I decide whether I save your life or not. That way you be good to me I be good to you. How’s that gun feeling?” Grant’s hand began to push the gun barrel further into his temple. His breathing became faster. “It’s fine!” His voice turning into an almost squeak.

“Good, now we continue. So, what were you doing with my girlfriend last week Saturday?”

“Nothing man, we were hanging out and had some drinks.” Grant kept trying to eye the gun.

“Are you lying to me? I know if you are lying to me Grant. You don’t want to lie to me.” Grant’s trigger finger tightened onto the trigger of the gun.

“OK! OK! We did it! We did it. We did it like animals. Are you happy?”

“Good, honesty. I like that in a man. Next question! Why the gun and rude entry into my car?” That was the next logical question, of course, and the real test.

“It was her plan. Not mine. She said you had a couple mil. You just had to disappear. It was going to be a hijacking. NO! NO!” His right trigger finger was beginning to squeeze the trigger. Gideon’s eyes lit up with glee. “So you thought you could simply take me for some weakling who’d fold at the mere sight of a gun. Wrong!” His voice became gritty as the last words were said, grinding teeth as he said them, his tone verging on a growl.

“SHE said it! She said you were a pussy. She said you’d just go with it like you always did. I didn’t know!” Grant’s lip quivered and he went pale. “Oh but you are right. She thinks a lot doesn’t she. She’s very calculating. I saw it, mind you. Despised her planning and manipulations.” Gideon stretched forward casually. “Still, you’re not innocent either. It’s time for your punishment.”

“You said you’d save my life if I told you the truth! Please! Don’t’ do this!”

Gideon threw his head back, laughing maniacally and stopped instantly. “You sound like your mother before you hit her. Do you think she deserved what she did? Even after bearing you for nine months. Oh, you know the answer to that. No! You will be punished.” Gideon’s face was an expression of coldness, an even more powerful turn away from the burning anger. “Put down the gun,”

The gun went down to Grant’s side, in an instant he tried to fire the gun in Gideon’s direction and found the trigger stiff, unable to budge. In desperation he pressed harder but couldn’t.

“Feeling brave? Oh that won’t do.”

Grant’s hand held the grip and gradually pointed the gun to his thigh. He shot himself twice. “Aarrgh. Please! I told you the truth. Please let me go!” Gideon looked coolly at the man intent on killing him.

“I’ll start with your ribs.”

At first Grant’s body began to convulse as force was applied punch by punch into his chest, holes the shape of human fists made themselves, collapsed in and expanded back with the skin’s flexibility.  With every punch his body shook and jumped upward and to his sides. At first they started slow, and worked up to frenzy. Blood flowed out of his nose by the end of the flurry of impacts.

“I’m sorry okay. I didn’t know what you could do. I know now. I just shat myself. Are you happy?” Grant knew the answer to the question. “No. We’ve just begun. Do you value your legs Grant? I don’t know if you do. Let’s see.” Gideon curled his fingers into the shape of a claw. “Ever felt something being removed after being lodged into your flesh?” Gideon’s grinned wide and toothy. “Let us begin.”

The black pants Grant wore began to soak above his thigh. He tried to breath but only half-breaths came out and went in. He tried to brace himself against the pain but it wouldn’t cease. Slowly the soaking took shape into two round caps. “Shit! I can’t take any more. Please stop. Please stop! I’m sorry. I’m sorr-” A cracking sound was heard and Grant couldn’t scream any more, only whimper in knowledge of what was going to happen to him.

“Good. Now you know the pain you caused. Now for the encore!” exclaimed Gideon in a cheery and surprisingly light voice. “The time for talk is done, Mr. Mueller.”

Grant tried to implore Gideon to stop but something in his throat was changing. First, the timbre notes were fading into higher ones, then into a lowly rasp, and then nothing. “You are a mute now. You have been punished but you deserve more. Now get out of my car. If I see or hear you again you will die. Do you hear me? Blink twice if you understand.” Grant blinked twice. Gideon unlocked the car and Grant stumbled out into the night. The car started again and Gideon turned it around.  As the car passed the damaged form of Grant Mueller the window opened, “Oh, and if you tell anyone about this there will be consequences. You hear me?” A head was shaken in response.

The window closed and Gideon drove on. He felt for some frozen yogurt and the car could be cleaned later. He turned on the radio. Riders on the storm was playing. Killer on the road, yeah.

Forever trying to iron this crease;

From my mind, my soul.

Always searching for my own.

Trying to be that which I have never shown

So that I may understand how much I have truly grown.

So in my heart, truly is;

That sense of peace with my life’s lease, never signed but to which I am bound.

In the end I await, hearing and listening for that sound;

For me to enter that space in the ground.

In which I will lie,  so that I may at last let out that contented sigh.

Call me with supernatural words,
In dreams to other worlds.

Hear my words, as they whisp and traverse,
As my the quenching of my thirst,
Slowly fades.

Wake me once more in places of dark,
Till my breathe’s last,
Slowly dissipates.

Then bring me to you at last,
Where my creation beckons with farce,
In the yellow light of dusk.

Rusty siderails on the road stood their lonely vigil. It was reaching evening time, around evening time and the sun was setting into the west.  Living in a place like this made you become more of an animal than human. It was primeval being here. Every day was a battle but the strength was building in me with every day. Ten years so far. Ten years more I say.

It’s been ten years since the last bomb fell. Since then the world changed, but in many ways stayed the same. The clique nature of human settlements stayed the same, the same segregation, the same guns and the same war over and over again. But there was more to it, people weren’t as much people any more. They changed physically and mentally.

Some had appeared with harder skin, smaller eyes and sharper teeth. Others had stayed the same but were monsters inside. Some say it was the radiation that changed them, but it was the poverty, the greed and then it was the need for survival. Survival of the fittest, and most mentally infirm.

They say that all you have to do is pay attention, lessons arrive when you are ready. And the next move becomes easier to see.  I wish they’d  have seen that when signs of the violence began a decade ago. But it’s late for regrets like that. It’s too early for too much hope either.

Soft foot pads shift impatiently in the grass long since cut by blades. A light snarl menacingly hides behind a film of grey grass. A young buck recently separated from its mother light munches on some old shrubs wearily. Its head cocks up in a burst of awareness fuelled by instinct and fear. A twig unnaturally snaps in the growth. It runs.

Four hooves galloping at blinding speed across a stretch of tar and asphalt. Gadoof, Gadoof, Gadoof.

A roar is heard in the distance and then and a gust of air is displaced followed by another. Large canines are bared and muscles are tensed, stretched and worked. Heavier steps thrust body into air, bursting with energy stored from catnaps.  Heartrates soar, instinct and reflex take over as the drumbeat of chase echoes through the war deadened landscape.

The buck bolts like an Olympian over an open field of sand, never pausing, cutting through the wind like a blade. Grass is jumped over, broken walls soared over quicker than any man could run. The cat runs faster, its burnt orange and black stripes a contrast in the urban jungle. Growls of frustration and hunger burst into the air, making is disperse as if avoiding the juggernaut breaking through it. Then the playing field changes and becomes far more technical, no long straights to catch its prey. Walls become lower but more unpredictable and the low energy levels coming from the cat’s strong legs drastically decrease.

The panting becomes ever more intense, dried parched throat becomes more and more daunting till it stops and the young buck disappears into the distance.

The resentment in the heart of the beast settles once more and is stored for a time of easier meals, and less energy expense. Mole Rats are becoming less and less appealing. It rests once more, then it catches a sense of something far more appealing then any buck. Man. It has been a long time since it has enjoyed a meal like that. Renewed energy fuelled by hunger and greed takes the scent in and it stalks ever so further toward that scent of deliciousness. Soft growls go unheard satisfactorily to none other than their owner.

Then there’s a bang. The cat stops cautiously as if in knowing what happened. It steps away slowly. There is no predator like man and his gun. It decides Mole Rats aren’t such bad prey after all. The scent of gunpowder is alluring but all too risky.

The buck falls hard, dying instantly.

There is a time and place for this it says. I will have my prey.

Meanwhile, a man called Cassius reloads a .44 rifle and wills the filling of his stomach. It has been a while since he has eaten. He looks around listening for danger and instinctively follows through to the corpse now bleeding.

“Ten years is a bloody long time to live with this kak.” He then radios into the base three kilometres away to his wife. “I’ve got some food. Start a braai. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” . His wife replies “You didn’t call me for the whole day, I was worried. Please hurry back. I’m worried.”

He lifts the buck with all his strength and follows his way to town. His family must eat first. They need to survive these hard times. His stomach rumbles at the thought of that meat. Tired, hungry and determined, he steps a little further toward living another day.

Child of future and times.

Speak of those whom have wronged with love,

For all that you may have now will never last.

Look to him, upon whom all depends,

For it his hand, from which he lends.

Make with your hands which you care,

For it may not always be there.

Treasure the gold which never appeared so,

For when it is cleansed it may go.

Ask nothing of others to which you never give yourself,

For it is them who’ve picked you up after you fell.

Then look above, smile and touch that heart,

For the greatness that in you is born, not you,

May be all that that will ever last.

Whisperings of sweet nothings, eyes of adoration.

Make me smile, make me happy.

Make me grin, make me silly.

To you I dedicate this, a show of appreciation.

To you I give this, a gift of reciprocation.

Once again, a touch of a hand.

Once more, a pleasing thought.

Send me love, send me flowers.

Send me hope, send me peace.

For a while longer, a touch of a hand.

Whisperings of sweet nothings.

To me, you are no longer nothing.

For everyone thought it was forgone.

That starlight in the gloom was never seen,

For everyone forgot it had ever been.

Today I looked for that starlight in the gloom,

And hoped very soon, That I would see it too.

It never came and I fell disappointed,

So I closed my eyes and thought of those anointed.

Who led our pasts, and inspire our present,

And wondered if that was the lesson.

That I seek, or need or even pine,

Then I let past the time.

To see and to feel , perhaps to understand,

What it was to be Man.

So I closed my eyes once more,

Cast my eyes to the shore.

That washed aside and wore,

Then perhaps my soul saw or perhaps not.

That there was a starlight in the gloom,

That I did see soon.

For the darkness that all around us swirled,

Allowed for farsight to be earned.

In patience and strife,

That was the purpose in life.

To work and toil and tumble,

Only to realise after that last fumble.

That we, Man alone are,

Neither how much we suffer or fall, nor how far.

But the grace by which we stand,

And to whom we give our hand.

When is it the right time?

Tick tock, tick tock does the clock,

What is it that will be mine?

Knock knock, knock knock,

Who is this I hear?

Knock knock, knock knock,

Why do I still feel this fear?

Drip drip, drip drip,

Falls the droplets of sweat.

Drip drip, drip drip,

How is it my eyes still remain wet?

Slowly, surely, comfortably,

I step on your path,

Dodging, stepping, running, falling,

To reach my home at last.

Breathing, inhaling, exhaling,

And in the end releasing,

Feeling, breaking, healing,

But in the end no more appeasing.

Once again, tick tock goes the clock

Yet another hard place, and a rock,

Won’t somebody give me the key to this lock?

No said he, who above me lives,

Why then, if I did that you would never learn!

But yes said he, who now next to me stands,

Be slow and steady, for here is my hand.