Teddy Bear Cannibal Massacre
Page 12
Those who swore love eternal cast her out. She was left alone- shunned and abandoned. Fools, they could not see the beauty behind the ruin.
The golden one, whose fire she had loved-who held her by the hair and devoured those over-ripe lips; she was the first to leave. The one who made my Lady sigh, and rip the night with sharp, sudden cries, who savored the hot passionate tears on her cheeks, who lay all night long in that crushing embrace while her body shuddered like the wind, rolled and bellied like the ocean. The yellow-haired beauty, skin stained red by a thousand caresses, found her a plague and ran to another's arms.
The money soon ran out - going to doctors who promised to fix what could not be fixed, restore what was lost forever. I took her to this rude cabin by the northern shore, hid her from the prying tabloids. I brought simple food and well water. I had no need of food or sleep, because I pulled back my hood and had the joy of kissing her. She wept, turning her head, shamed by the scorn she once felt for me.
My own tears fell when she asked one more sacrifice. "Sweet Friend," she said. "Please find a way for me to die."
In my vanity, I hoped she would want to live for my sake, if not her own. I began to doubt, and doubt still, if I did right. I never should have kissed her. If I had humbly provided for her needs, forgetting my own, she would have loved me more.
That was six months ago. I sit on the floor with her cold feet in my hand and gaze into her puddled eyes, the lids long ago worn away. In another realm, with new vision, perhaps she can see herself the way I see her. With my hands on her throat, she whispered the name of that golden haired girl. I fulfilled the last, most secret wish of her longing heart. That would mean something, in another kind of world.
Maybe I was a poor scribe, misreading my characters, letting the story wander to an unacceptable conclusion. I can't say I am more lonely now than before she died. Love is not so frail. It stings. It slices and reveals- a shard of broken mirror. Was she always as devoid of feeling? I want her mouth to open one more time. I want her to take a breath, move her hand, have a need I could fulfill. Then I would understand love- this glass and silver obsession.
Skin stretches over bone. Beneath the decay is the scent of acorns and black butter. The flies roar and sing a mad coda. And my need to serve her will not let me leave - it is a service God and Man forbid. Her lips are sweet, like gathered berries under fresh-fallen snow. Spider silk is not so delicate as her dry flesh. Nothing is better than love. This is what I believe.
Acknowledgements
Thanks Michael Froimowitz of Pink Stucco Press for initially encouraging this project. I also thank Ralan for http://www.ralan.com for giving us a place to petition submissions. D from Whispers of Wickedness and Adam P. Knave both provided great assistance in advice concerning publishing and distribution. Adam of Elastic Press provided inspiration. Editors Jay Lake and Thomas Deja both deserve praise for their guidance. Jay Lake, in particular, answered all of my stupid questions despite that fact that he didn’t know me before I emailed him asking for advice. He helped me with Dybbuk Press as well as this particular book.
The Livejournal (http://www.livejournal.com) creators deserve a great deal of praise. Their weird amalgamation of chat rooms, mental masturbation, community building and teen angst made this book possible. Not only did I find contributors through it, but I also found many friends that helped me in many ways. In particular I’d like to thank Michael Hemmingson, Nick Kaufmann, Nick Mamatas. Their experience and professionalism helped me immensely.
Extra praise goes out to both Avi Cohen and David Gutierrez, both of whom came through when the project was on shaky ground. Also thanks to Terri Mitchem and Mary Gnetz at Lightning Source for their assistance in the publishing industry.
And of course praise goes out to the contributors. I thank them for their patience and willingness to work with me. Most of all I thank them for their contributions.