b h a g . n e t   visual and conceptual exchange   b h a g . n e t

  
bhag cover page         bhag literary art         S. E. Chambers literary art

I remember my wings, so big and majestic. I remember how they cut through the air making that swoosh sound. It was like the sound of a thousand whips cracking at sore flesh. I remember the smell of the clean salted ocean air. The wind whipping my hair this way and back. I remember my wings that covered my face, feet, and hands. In that order. I remember the tallest trees were just above that hill. I remember the big house I lived in. So big it was made up of cocoa beans and long leaves of Jaclyn trees. I remember the inscriptions on the walls and columns of the temple. I remember the dancing and singing of the others at the birth of Mary's new baby. I remember the baby's name was Ishmel. I remember the dancing on my toes that were covered by my soft feather-covered wings. I remember my ears picking up the sound of thunder in the distance. I was so scared. My heart fell deeper in my chest. I saw Ishmel turn pure black. I ran to him. I held him. I held Ishmel in my arms. My angel hair of two parts, blonde and dark brown, fell like a cape around his small body. It was lifeless and wouldn't move. My thunder. Louder. Ishmel, I screamed louder than the thunder. The others ran frantically to me. I held him closer, searching for his heart and for his breath. Ishmel! His mother came. She yelled. She took Ishmel's limp, cold body from my shaking wing-covered hands. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I couldn't heal him. I couldn't save him. I ran to the crib. How did I get so far from the crib? It took what seemed forever. I reached the crib. It was still warm. I picked up his blanket and smelt it. It smelt like death rays. I heard the thunder, looked and saw the lightning. I heard and saw the death rays, still present in the temple's aerial room. I saw them, dark and creepy. They backed up into the corners like shadows filling the cracks. They backed up further and they didn't stop. They crawled up the walls and skimmed the moonlight. They had no eyes or ears. No wings or hands. How could they possibly have a heart or conscience? We did the rite as soon as possible. We performed the shielding ritual and yet Ishmel, Mary's baby, died in his first thirty hours. This world was swept away from him. The death rays kept slithering. They kept breathing. I saw their shadow move in and out. The walls were breathing. Those same walls that spoke of light and happiness were covered and breathing. I'm shielded. You can't kill me! I heard them whisper and I felt them grin. Dark evil shadows be gone from within. No, I didn't kill Ishmel. He wasn't breathing. No, I didn't kill Ishmel. He wasn't bleeding.

© 2000 S. E. Chambers