She lived close to heaven, wild with silence and dead with life. Every night while cats called and courted, she hosted feasts for the granite Gods, buying brownie points and investment bonds with a cold cold heart. No one can see her, but no one can see past her. She became a ghost well before she died.
I drew first breath as my head hit the ground. The phrenology book told me the lumps guaranteed a long hard road. My fellow passengers ignored the blood, my cries and the message I'd come to deliver. I knew if only I could get to the water I'd be home and dry. A lifetime later I'm still wet and home is within sight.
The band sang acapella providing their own rhythm and blues. Dancing was awkward, ungainly and a little melancholy. She overlooked the fact that he was dead but how could she forgive his desertion? His bones offered some comfort, even more when she boiled them up for soup.
I am the food in your head, the filling in your teeth. I am the view from your window and the crow's feet round your eyes. I am the grout in your tiles, I am the inches in your miles. I am the heat in your blood and the lead in your pencil. But you already know that.
He said he'd never been in love; that lust was as far as he'd got. She said she despised men like him but didn't move away. He checked out her menu but opted for a takeaway on the way home. She'd worn her lucky knickers for nothing. He missed out.
Talking required too much energy, so she began to communicate silently. They mistook her lack of words for sullenness. Her mind wandered never settling anywhere for long. They knew how to bring her back.
She sang their birth, their life and death. She sang their sky, their air and earth. As she sang, their roots took hold, grew deep and stitched them together in a holy union. As they stood still they boomed, flowered and fruited. The cycle rolled on. We hummed along when we forgot the words.
She presented him with unsolicited gifts and showered him with awkward attention. She couldn't hand him her still beating heart so she handed him her still bloody first born instead. He just wanted to fuck her.
She rescued her proto-siblings from the family secrets box and made them into the party centre piece. Most chose to ignore the theme, the rest were uncomfortably enthusiastic. It took over twenty skewers to still the moving feast and a lifetime for the gusts to forget.