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Tonight I was again completing my recent cold nightly ritual of nemesis-stalking – and once again, Brix’s house proved to be annoyingly full of warm excess life, only one of which was his.   Maybe next time.

Consequently, I decided to take a different route home, as opposed to my usual preference for the dark catacombs of back alleys.   Turned down one of the main thoroughfares that was still flaming with neon and noise, and the jerky gaudy energy of a city Saturday night.   Road was closed for traffic because a certain little pop princess (with the modicrum of talent and the multitude of presumably tone-deaf fans) was ‘performing’ in the stadium.

As luck would have it, the concert had just finished, and a great living, breathing tide of people was rolling in towards me.

Humanity en masse is a remarkable and oddly unsettling thing, I imagine – the strange, mindless mob-mentality; the loss of individuality and free thought; the sensation of being carried along physically and emotionally by the pressing, insistent, monstrous crowd.

I fucking love it.   Means I get to do one of my most favorite things in the whole fucking world.

I slowed my steps, as the human wave surged and crashed – then washed over me in a rush of noisy warm flesh.   I was moving slowly and dreamily forward through the flood of excited, animated, florid activity; random flushed faces, bare shoulders, exposed necks, open shirts.   Life, coursing and pulsing around me, hot-blooded forms seething and seeping and surging .

And me – there – a dark oasis in that rich, full-blooded sea of life, going naturally and inevitably against the flow.   An empty and undiscovered terra, smelling and savoring and drinking up the frenzy of emotion and heat and heart-beat.  

Here is the wonderful dark fantasy then – to slow to a stop as the crowd jostle and swear and complain their way around you.   Still for a moment.   Then begin – seizing a random arm, ripping the nearest throat, sinking teeth joyously into suddenly tensed humid flesh.   Witness the opened-mouths remembering how to shriek, as the sea flowing away unnaturally from the small monster risen from the deep, who is building an ever-widening scarlet circle of human shipwrecks.   Impossible drownings in blood as vessels are emptied wantonly of their cargo, vast oily crimson slicks across the pavement damned up by new flotsam – a glorious, hellish, fantastical horror of unhungry carnage performed for its own sake…


“Watch the fuck where you’re going, man…”  

I shake my head a little at the sound and smile a little more, and steer gently out of the still-living sea and into the cosy shadows.   Maybe next time.





  1. Sounded like swimming in the ocean sort of, only you’re Jaws creeping up on the swimmers. Another great blog, friend =)

    • Rosemarie Fullerton
    • Posted February 22, 2010 at 3:07 pm
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    • Reply

    the imagery is captivating, almost as if i were there, seeing it for myself.

  2. Good description.

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