THOUGHTS FROM THE OVERGROWTH

ALL CUCKOOS WE

(names have been changed to protect the innocent)

Our lives are constructed of memories, its all we have to rely on to prove we existed.

As soon as a moment shifts, its a memory.

An undulation in the ocean subconscious and a wave upon the shore creates a muscle

memory acted moment.

Then is memory only...

"I’ve walked with you through this lost depraved wasteland of a life brother but… Lukas forgive me”. The blade pulled easily from the drowning pool of blood spilling out of the empty cavity of lung. He fell face full forward onto the grey hard concrete unused car park. Vincent looked around for witnesses but he knew that it was a futile gesture, merely a habit over the years. The whole area was devoid of life. Only he existed in this timeless moment of brutality and fast cold beauty. “Damn you Lukas, damn you”. He dropped his head towards the blank concrete canvas below him and studied the art forming upon its grey inanimate stillness. He admired the black blood aura forming around the body.

A flash appeared upon the knife blade he was still holding. The full moon threw its dark illuminated energy upon the Damascus steel hunting tool he had just used to puncture his brother through the back and into his lung. He held it at arms length to fit into the picture frame forming itself in moonlit illuminated blood, curiously black in its full silver glory. “Ah, my brother, you live in my art after all. Your wasted skeletal skin frame. Your pointless liquid form, is now more brilliant than it ever could be alive. I have freed you of your lethargy. Your melancholic repeated stares into a colourless, wish less world is over”.

He knelt down to lay his palm onto his siblings motionless back for one last skin on skin contact from the last remaining member of the Williams household.

“My brother, the moon take you. Take you and house you. Join our dynasty of blood, be at one with them all now. I’m the alpha now, the sole heir to nothing”. He pushed harder down into the moon black blood lake formed upon the deflated rib cage and heard a crack as muscle gave way and tension failed. A tear rolled down Vincent’s solemn face mask. “I have freed you brother, freed you of this world of cuckoos. This outgrown nest. I love you brother, but my work had to be. Now our evil family is no more, I am the last of our line dear friend. Our virus resides only within my accursed veins now. This will be my last job before we all unite with our silver homeland”. He stood to admire his final creation, only one last act of destruction to go now.

Looking at the bright light of journeys end, the last twitch of muscle shot through his

slaughtered brothers fallen form. Vincent’s feet formed islands in the sea of his families life force as he addressed his sovereign in the sky...

“I come to you now my lord, the last of the cuckoos”.

A clean cut appeared from the bottom of one ear to the other like a second mouth, as the last human gave back health to the Earth...