Dark eyes of flint, blue of loss, hazel of new growth broken, avaricious emerald, hopeless grey.
They watched him, held and helpless, suffering the torment of impotence—unable to choose, to act, to change.
Hair flailing to shoulders in tresses, locks, hanks. Falling crimson to earth.
Metallic bands of fear gripped his wrists, ankles, temples.
Livid bruises discolouring the skin where they/he fought. Humiliation running warm and wet down between legs. Tracks of wetness, tracks of red.
Constricted throats filled loud with silent animal cries. Silence: a wall of accusation.
In the icy stillness, still they stared.
Unable to bare their gaze, he opened his eyes.
Through the blur of remorseless tears of sweat, he saw the Governor press the switch.
♠
A flash-fiction/poetry composition © T. James, November, 2012.
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Good blending of imagery!
Thanks, Matthew.
Nicely put together TJ, hits hard and brings wonderful imagery to the readers mind. Well done.
Thanks, Gareth. That’s what I was aiming for.
Gritty and disturbing, this piece will leave a long-lasting impression.
I aimed to move the reader, and avoid trivialising such a difficult subject which was always a danger when writing such a short piece. Although it is disturbing, I wanted to add in a sense of justice and closure to balance those negative feelings…