The Metropolis of Dispossessed Catacombs
The Metropolis of Dispossessed Catacombs There were only two of us in the city. Ruben and I moved there after graduation, the day after our wedding. We cleaned the catacombs of the dispossessed until a little after twelve. Then we’d break for lunch. I made a picnic basket, he drove us to the beach. After eating, I’d see tears overflowing in his eyes, so I’d take my clothes off and let him possess me. We’d head back to the catacombs, take the anti-viral BP had developed, and do it again on our bed. Ruben would take his time and cuddle. He’d brush my hair, or what was left of it. Whisper: Do it to m e. My eyes rolled back, teeth clattered. The catacombs echoed as I grew wings and horns. Ruben screamed profanities at the gangplank leading to the vaulted domes, near the entrance of the metropolis, where a colossal seraph stood dripping oil, before we fell undone trying to crack the riddle of progress . © Sergio A. Ortiz, June 27, 2010