Revenge in a Clockwork Universe

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by Mr Spraints

such queer circumstances, I was able to express the central theme of my book so well.

  “Mechanical Philosophy? You fool! You don’t understand philosophy!” the Peacock spat. This was the worst of all his insults. With a lengthy shrill screech he tilted his head back only to thrust it forward again, letting out a series of screams in aggressive, curt bursts. His moustache stiffened as he began to make the most curious jerking movements, sporadically spinning around and sliding his feet from side to side. Although I could not move, it did occur to me that I didn’t seem to be in any pain. Despite the curious situation that I found myself in, my hope was unbroken and persistently evoked the idea that my tormentor would come round. He had taken his foot off the pedal and perhaps this performance was a sign that he had begun to apply the brake.

  However, it was not long before he’d concluded what I now believe to be some form of war dance. As I lay flat and shaken, he pressed down on the back of my neck, apparently digging his claws into the cervical region of my spinal column, presumably to send me into a state of temporary quadriplegia. The Peacock stretched his long neck down and moved his head close to mine so that we were eye-to-eye. As I drifted out of consciousness he gently whispered in my ear, “Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must remain silent….you Little Shit.”

  Before passing out, I felt my tongue freeze over.

  Later that day, I kissed my aunt goodbye and promised her that I’d be back to visit soon. As I pulled the front door open and in towards me I heard the distinct sound of the Peacock closing his tail as his feathers rattled shut. An icy draft flew through the hall, pinched the back of my neck and shoved me outside.

  “Be careful, Dear. Watch your step. Mind how you go,” my aunt said kindly.

  I noticed that I’d left my manuscript behind, but thought it best not to return to collect it. It was not my only copy and besides, it was only fair that the Peacock had the opportunity to read it in his own time before making any decisions. Time brings in his revenges, I thought.

 

 

 

 

 


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