COMING SOON ... maybe

A production of life, loss and choices.
"Hells Above and Below" by Ailsa C Williamson. (working title)
Maybe ... if I finish it

Milk

White finely filtered
Dripping down the side of the carton
Drawn by gravity
Pure whole milk
This is the water of life
Cow juice, whole juice
So pure and fresh
A whole two litres
Give me peace, give me joy
Give me milk
It's just that simple.
Paturised, homogenised,
Standardised.
The whole of it
The freshness
The purity that has typical values
Of Sugars, fat and sodium
(equivalent as salt)

"So it is true", exerpt from Falcultas Est

Alex said nothing; I wasn’t entirely sure where he was. In pain I screwed up my eyes tightly, fearing that very soon the ground would be covered in blood and I would be a trembling moron before Alex even considered me human.

‘Please,’ I said in a very small voice, ‘Please, I am fine, just leave me and get out of here.’

‘But, you are hurt,’ came his voice, but it was wrong, it was chilly, too smooth. A hand touched mine.

‘Get off,’ I barked, tossing him off, and turning viciously in a circle. Somewhere I knew he was around. Opening my eyes I saw a red world, a bloody world. My tear ducts had erupted, I was crying blood, pure blood and my stomach began to rumble, wanting to spew up the same fluid, get it out of my system and wash my entire body anew. ‘SHIT,’ I yelled, and I doubled over, releasing the contents of my gut.

‘Hells,’ a whisper chilled uncomfortably near my ear, ‘So it is true.’

Extract from "The Dreamer's Stage"

Setting: A quiet narrow back street, late at night. Lit up sign of "The Glass Dome"
Enter Peter, slowly from USL. He whistles. 
Uriel enters from SR, walks past Peter who does not see him. 


Uriel: You're a fool, Peter Newcomer.


Peter (looking around): Eh?


Uriel: I said, you are a fool.

Peter: Ah, you again.

Uriel: One day you will learn, Peter Newcomer, Bringer of Bad Tidings, one day you will learn that men can be demons too.

Peter (smiling): You will never cease to follow me, will you?

Uriel: You are a liar and a thief, a coward and a murderer. Why trust in yourself when all hope is lost?

Peter: Because, demon, there is no one else to trust, but me. Unless you suggest I start trusting in you?

Uriel (silent, then walks around to stand right in Peter's face, says quietly): You are a fool.

Peter: What is a fool but a man who has not experienced what it is to be wise?

Freaks

It was definitely not normal. In front of her was a large, sabre-toothed camel stepping out of midair. On his back sat a man, almost completely covered in dark blue robes apart from his eyes which were gold and stared right at her. He shifted slightly in his seat as the back end of the camel came through the improbable hole in the atmosphere, then looked up, beyond the two sisters in surprise.

‘Keira,’ she breathed, reaching blindly behind her.

‘Rowan!’ Keira grabbed for her sister, almost falling back away from the giant winged snake that was beating its wings in front of her face. So therefore, it is perfectly understandable that she did not see at once the man standing behind this impossible creature, brushing off his clothes that looked as if they had half the wealth of a sultan stitched upon them.

‘Thank goodness I can finally take of these clothes,’ he said to himself blithely. ‘Can people not pay you in banknotes these days? Oh,’ He looked up, surprised at the two girls, man and a camel that were watching him. ‘Well...this is a slight complication. A little more company than I care for...’

 The man on the camel, and the camel itself, remained in shock for a little while longer, and then the man spoke. ‘This is ... awkward. Did he get the coordinates right?’ he asked, looking down at the camel’s head.

The camel rolled his bright blue eyes and blinked long eyelashes.

‘Think not,’ he stated, simply.

‘Huh...if you are looking for a pretty, amazing snake, an anti-social freak and a Melody, you are at the right place.’ Keira coughed. The snake talked. Talked. And there was a camel.

The robed man looked at the snake, ‘I am looking for a Melody. The freak, the other freak and the humans are not part of the deal.’ The camel grinned, showing many rows of fine, sharp teeth.

Mary the Prostitue

The day was a bad day.
The man left me sleeping
He didn't want to pay.
Three long years of love
And what have I to my name?
Nothing but my lost virginity
Nothing but this pot of smell.
My heart is simply untouched
By my men's darker lives
They mask as they exit my chamber
Out to the sunlit skies.
Here it is dark and lonely
Here there is no true joy
Men take me for money
Boys want me to employ
To turn their hard earned cash to love
But I can't give love
Nobody can give love
Except he who is love.

I met him one day
I cried and sighed.
My very tears made his feet wet
Desperately I patched them dry
And kissed them.
He sighed.
And told me
To keep my pot of smells
For the day he died.
I cried.
And was finally satisfied.