Time is fleeting / Lou 3

The Rocky Horror Picture Show











In an attempt to concentrate more thoroughly she’d kept her mind’s eyes closed. It was human thing. In fact, she was laying in a large empty dark space. There was nothing to see, but she’d chosen to imagine her eyes closed and the blackness that goes with such action. When the blackness began to mold into yellows and red, the sensation stopped her cold. In an instant of recognition, her mind’s eyes flew open with on thought only: day light.




She would have thought that fear and happiness were antithetical, and therefore couldn’t occur at once, but clearly she was mistaken. In that instance of time only a mind can process she realized three distinct things. One she was suspended forty feet in the air near the boarded up window. Two, she was seeing daylight and it wasn’t causing her spontaneous combustion. And three was looking down at her dead body. These thoughts came into her head and then were gone. She found herself again, feeling null and staring at the faint bar of light near the ceiling where she knew she’d just been. However troubling, the experience was real enough for her to offer the confidence that she could rise at will.


This time, without the entrapments of human feeling, she neither closed her mind’s eyes nor tried to raise her physical form but simply thought of sitting. Her view shifted. So she stood, again her view changed accordingly. Slowly she turned to see herself.


It was her. Her five foot frame lay ridged. Her hands rested gently at her sides. Her light brown hair frizzy with tight waves framed her pale face and shoulders. It was pushed off her forehead with a pink headband dotted with black cats. Though a part of her knew she was perfectly think, she still thought she looked a little chubby. It was her round baby face.


“You always look puffy.” She told herself. “And pretty dead too, I might add.”


Two years ago she would have found this whole situation much stranger, but that was before coming to terms with being a vampire.


“I am dead, right?” She asked her form. “Or am I?” She willed herself of self closer to her physical form. Confusion was forming again. She had consciousness, could you be dead and conscious? Studying her form more closely with emotional discomfort, she noted it seemed to be …disintegrating, like the falling away of sand from a sculpture. Now that she was paying attention her physical self seemed to be falling away at an alarming rate.


“Like sands in an hour glass…” She snorted as a new concept of death was taking form.


“Ohmygod, I really am dead this time.” She thought conscious still of not feeling the hot tears roll down a solid form that she’d always thought of as herself.


She backed away from the fragile form still on the slab. Dead?


A rush of wind had circled the room and the form before her collapsed in a pile of dust.