All Jupitas's Men
urine
I never felt like there was a God. And then, when it hits you in the face like a huge...huge...thing a thing huge thing then you realise that the universe isn't what you thought it was.
They came quickly...like raindrops. Dripping and filling up those empty puddles and that's where it went wrong. My instincts kinda tell me that that is to be expected...but what do I know?
What do I know? I...oh I don't know. I don't know anymore.
I never pretended to be human. I never did. It's not exactly my fault. I never played the Faustian slut. I never sold my soul to no Devil in exchange for the answers to any questions.
"I asked you a goddamn question. Do you understand why you are here?"
Here, what is here? How can I possibly even answer that question when I don't know where here is?
"Aha, but you answered differently before. So, that makes you a little liar as well as a slut."
I can't remember. I can't remember...
"I am getting tired of this. Hera, call up the Detail Team. Maybe they'll pull some sense out of that mind of hers."
And I see. I see I see I see and it's a swimming bead of light, scarring and burning and all is white all is white. The voices are like little fleas, jumping here and there. And I'm convinced I'm mad. I...mad....mad...like a hatter. A batter. A catter...datter fatter g-atter hatter iee-atter jatter katter latter...something. It's all musty. Misty. Foggy. Gone.
And there's this face in front of me. It's like a brown leather jacket that's been crumpled and two lumps of ill-carved ebony eyes. It's not a man, no. The voice trickles after his mouth, like an after-thought.
"My name is Bia," it was soft and I could see it. I could smell it too, a metallic haze that seemed to smelt the skin. "You and me now ought to get acquainted since...we're going to be working very closely." Just the hint of a smirk.
And the crack of a finger bone.
It was the sudden dullness and then the splintering hurt that followed.
I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. Oh god...oh god...
"Crying won't get you anywhere. Just tell us what we want to know. Who got you pregnant? We need his name." he tilted his head. Hurt hurt hurt...
I don't know I don't know I don't know.
I shut my eyes and there's a stream. I...remember it. I remember it...the rough stones smoothed and timeless water. Stream....pain. No the stream think...
"Pallas, she's pissed herself!" a heady chuckle. "I think the little half-breed should think over what's happened."
"Should we let her out the chair?"
"Nah," he said. "Let Flipper rot."
They came quickly...like raindrops. Dripping and filling up those empty puddles and that's where it went wrong. My instincts kinda tell me that that is to be expected...but what do I know?
What do I know? I...oh I don't know. I don't know anymore.
I never pretended to be human. I never did. It's not exactly my fault. I never played the Faustian slut. I never sold my soul to no Devil in exchange for the answers to any questions.
"I asked you a goddamn question. Do you understand why you are here?"
Here, what is here? How can I possibly even answer that question when I don't know where here is?
"Aha, but you answered differently before. So, that makes you a little liar as well as a slut."
I can't remember. I can't remember...
"I am getting tired of this. Hera, call up the Detail Team. Maybe they'll pull some sense out of that mind of hers."
And I see. I see I see I see and it's a swimming bead of light, scarring and burning and all is white all is white. The voices are like little fleas, jumping here and there. And I'm convinced I'm mad. I...mad....mad...like a hatter. A batter. A catter...datter fatter g-atter hatter iee-atter jatter katter latter...something. It's all musty. Misty. Foggy. Gone.
And there's this face in front of me. It's like a brown leather jacket that's been crumpled and two lumps of ill-carved ebony eyes. It's not a man, no. The voice trickles after his mouth, like an after-thought.
"My name is Bia," it was soft and I could see it. I could smell it too, a metallic haze that seemed to smelt the skin. "You and me now ought to get acquainted since...we're going to be working very closely." Just the hint of a smirk.
And the crack of a finger bone.
It was the sudden dullness and then the splintering hurt that followed.
I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. Oh god...oh god...
"Crying won't get you anywhere. Just tell us what we want to know. Who got you pregnant? We need his name." he tilted his head. Hurt hurt hurt...
I don't know I don't know I don't know.
I shut my eyes and there's a stream. I...remember it. I remember it...the rough stones smoothed and timeless water. Stream....pain. No the stream think...
"Pallas, she's pissed herself!" a heady chuckle. "I think the little half-breed should think over what's happened."
"Should we let her out the chair?"
"Nah," he said. "Let Flipper rot."