March 30, 2011 – Burnt Ochre Barricades and Leaky Cauldrons

There once was a girl hidden far from view
before mine eyes yet easy to pass through
Trading on sharp pickles
she spit acid nickles
And chased purple meltdown drops with brain flop stew.

Wandering deliberately through the valley of limits and fuse-less bottle rockets, Vivian feasted on empty pomegranate arils and crackled brown bark. She smelled fudge somewhere way in the distance but could not find a path in that direction that wasn’t laden with briers or cockroaches or both. Instead she chose to tenderly pick her way through the acres of memory chips still sparking from their improper device removal procedures. Several had burst into soft blue flames creating an eerie luminous field resembling the fireflies of Vivian’s youth on that first warm summer’s night. It took painstaking caution not to stamp one out. And even more will power.

She had found herself lost in this wilderness before and knew it was surrounded by an endless oasis in all dimensions. It was a place where everything was the same and nothing was familiar. Where toy guns equaled marshmallow pie and the skies were definitely cloudy all day. It rained dry tears that exploded radioactive maggots on impact. The trees gobbled up the oxygen only to convert it into malignant malfeasance. The only color the flowers could generate was absence.

Vivian needed to rest. She had been fighting her way through for long enough today.

A pocket of peace appeared and plopped down at her feet. She stretched out next to it and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would overtake her for a good long while.

It did for a while at least.

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