FREEDOM?

              Freedom.

              Loading my poor lungs with that herbal oxygen, tranquilized and silly playing seesaw on the sepia doused playground. Darkness seeping in. Beaming, I reached out for a hand, extending to reach mine. I strut and swagger down to the rainbow colored path of bricks and cotton like an ecstatic child. Captured in rapture, skipping to nowhere. Nothing in mind but the moment itself. The heavens complaining, rumbling and lowering to reach my head. Then it poured. Ten thousand spindles of God’s spit. I ran laughing and stepped on a puddle. Mud splattered on his face, grimace. Swirling in my flowing velveteen skirt as if catching the multihued gas suspended just above my waist, I danced my way to the nearest shade. Water clogged my pore, taste buds swimming on rain, shrilly voice climbing to my throat. Highest note. He laughed. Like a devil winning the Lord’s lottery. Clouds frowned, burped and sends lightning to hit us as we jumped furtively. Tickled us pink. Ran to the next hill and debate with the heavens, point them a fuck-you finger, shriek ‘til esophagus burst out. Down the hillside it pours. My legs, a pair of fleshy silhouettes pulling me back. But my gut is too strong because the Nazi has left me. I stand alone, proud of myself and my innocent smile. Something clings to my waist, skin twitching. Have to wash my hands, his blood smells rotten. As rotten ugly when he still has a heart pounding. But lying on the ground, with holes on each staccato skin, red stream gushing down the dictator’s throat that made him pretty popular once. He looked beautiful. I have to remind him to thank me. He ends up with the soil, the color of his soul, grinning to nobody but me.

            I climbed up the moores and thanked all the deities in the sky for I got skittles pouring down on me. Ah, freedom at last.

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