A DARKNESS PALE

DRIFT

…Chasing the vibrations, Dec finally got away from himself…

Drift

When he reached the bottom of the twisty hill he turned onto a boulevard in the direction of the vibrations. Past the downtown gridlock was a Greyhound station the size of several city blocks, a cold impersonal city unto itself. Buying a bus ticket was easier than dealing with gas stations.

Thirty-six hours later his bus reached its destination. He bought another ticket. The shifting was becoming more rapid. The highway stayed the same, but the weather kept changing. Hot and then cold, cold and then hot. Rain and no rain. He felt his lips chapping. None of it was real except for the vibrations.

He continued buying tickets until he ran out of cash in Millinocket. He was aware of the strange looks from those around him. He was aware his face was slack and his mouth was gaping. He walked away from the terminal and the town. He passed overlapping highways and stepped into a pine forest.

Wet pine branches slapping him, sometimes playful, sometimes not. He’d stopped eating and as a result moved slowly. Shifting, shifting, shifting, only now nothing changed. Wind swelled and trees rustled. The dense pine tar mixed with the blunt minerals in the rain. It was cold here. It worked into his bones and froze him from the inside out. The vibrations were so intense he thought he might tear and rupture. Walking became impossible. Everything vibrated except the night sky. Out here the sky glowed purple. Snow materialized in the air.

The vibrations took over completely and he tore off his clothes and expanded. The world was coming apart. Two worlds. He was helping push them apart, all his limbs stretched wide, muscles straining. This was reality. This was real. He was real as he came apart. He pushed until he was everything.

…Irie finds truth in the mouth of death…