Lineage

II.

From the Music Manuscript Archive of Gordon Prim:


Sonata No. 1, Somnombuli Nocturne, in C Sharp


The disingenuous happenstance of lights on inside window eyes skipped a sequence of intricacy, so this curse every rondo midnight of endless darkness ever fearful.

Another Somnombuli Nocturne had arrived with their usual punctuality.

Tarantula carpets encasing arms, legs and torso shorn close to prickles sent frissions of fear across ivory flesh. Numbing injections strategically applied allowed anticipation and awareness without heaving screams and worrisome wiggle-splats. Slit then sliced flaps of skin flounder-flapped darkly onto the blood-speckled floor. Gelatinous globules of fat scraped and scooped there slicken. Severed and snapped rib windings unwound into sinewy, glistening flex-band ribbons of meticulous muscle. Hammer-hammers chipped and splintered bones to bitter clouds of tomorrow's marrow dust.

Headless fore nether parts hence, derived from selectively meaningless yet saintly malevolent intentions. All to the soothing, sonomic elegance and beauty of keyed staccato scales, uninterrupted evermore, the seriousness of harpsichord.





©2019 by L.P. Van Ness. All rights reserved.


[genre: weird fiction]