In the
close cold air of autumn, noise and fume from eight lanes of motorway with
nowhere to go simply folded in on themselves continuously, toxins bubbling
through the doppler exhausts in a centripetal urge to boil back upon the source
of both, resulting in an almost physical tunnel that grew more and more dense
with each passing vehicle.
Up
on the bridge spanning the traffic, Brother Skunk was a little way ahead, and
the scarf wrapped around his nose and throat to filter out the toxins present
also damped his shout.
Skunk:
COME ON! ACHE1!
ache1
was laughing, with her body thrown back from her grip on the railings she
spread her legs buckled slightly at the
knees.
ache1
(laughing): OH GOD! OH GOD IT’S MY BABY, IT’S... UUUNNNNH!
as
a car sped from between her legs on the road below.
Skunk:
HEY!
ache1:
OHHH! OHHH! OH MY GOD I THINK IT’S TWINS, I... UUUUUNNNNNH!
and
as a truck shot out from beneath the bridge she bellowed with the relief of a
new mother, her howl quickly engulfed by, and giving further mass to, the
churning noxious fog below.
Skunk:
COME HERE! COME AND SEE THIS!
She
joined him.
ache1
(kneeling): What is it?
Skunk
(the scarf now rolled down around his throat): Look at this
indicating
some careful text before them, executed in yellow paint.
Skunk
(reading): “Jane. I will love you always.” That’s kind of weird isn’t it? I
mean it’s more romantic than a than just, you know, just... I saw something
like this before though. You remember that guy Justin I told you about, my
friend from Canada, when he was over here one time we, this was when I was
working down south and we went out for a walk and we came across this, it was
out along this canal and we came across an old railway bridge and it had a lot
of writing on it, I actually took a photograph of it because it was so unusual
but ehm, I think I overexposed the film and it didn’t come out right, but it
said something like this, something kind of eloquent but... damn I can’t
remember what it
ache1:
I think it might be a suicide thing.
Skunk:
You’re kidding. You really
ache1:
I think so. I saw something like it back home*, and it was on a bridge
too, but that was over a river and it was more explicit. It it actually
mentioned that, you know, that this was the I still remember the last bit of it
and it said “This is the only thing I can think of. I’m sorry.”
Skunk:
Oh Jesus. Oh.
A
spasm raised gooseflesh on his arms, compelling fine hair into the moleskin
shirtsleeves.
ache1
noticed his anxiety and
ache1:
Hey! HEY! Lookit this...
unbuttoning
her coat and slowly lifting her jumper and underclothes to reveal “antler” written blue across her slender
belly in face-crayon.
Snapped
from reverie, Skunk laughed and chased her as best he could, on towards the
park.
*"JC I will love you always. I am sorry. You must feel something for me. You don't make love to someone you don't care for. This is the only thing I can think of. I'm sorry."
*"JC I will love you always. I am sorry. You must feel something for me. You don't make love to someone you don't care for. This is the only thing I can think of. I'm sorry."
