Hand Pain Between Pointer Finger And Thumb

mystical rabbit (6) The mole



The rabbit mystical

by Lucien Suel

6




lips quivered long wind
son in the sling that electric
I followed to find the road to
Chapel Laure. I walked on
grassy aisle. I lost sometimes
rate stumbling in the ditches,
slits dug by the mender
to facilitate the flow of rain
into the ditch. At one point, stopping my
race, I raised and then knocked over on
back, using a stick, the corpse
a porcupine. A carpet of white grubs
undulated in the belly of the corpse.

I thought for a moment wipe my feet
elastic in this cluster, but rising to heaven
my eyes, I recognized my cloud.

The west wind tore the ears,
legs and tail of large cumulus clouds.

I returned, limping in the clouds.

Through the branches of alder,
the tiles of the chapel at
crunching away. I approached, slipping on
prostrate stems of ryegrass. A raven
shouting themselves hoarse between earth and sky.

Grasshoppers crackling under my feet.

A scent of ozone and slurry carpeted
my nostrils. Infinitely clear, the sky
weighed all its blue on my shoulders
numb. I paused a moment. The
wind had stopped. Around my ankle, lace
coagulated blood flaking at
sun. A long black car is parked on
the aisle in front of the porch.

I walk slowly, crouching on the floor
like a Muscovy duck. Passing
hand on the plate of the vehicle, I feel
heat, vibration stifled all
symptoms of an obvious nearby.

Could this be the custodian of the car
mysterious gift? Having toured
of the gear, I head toward the wall of the chapel
, where a stained glass star me
provide insight. I'm
climb on an old crate of beer and soft
calves to finally allow
my eyes dive into the choir.

Laure back towards me. She wore
for any garment around his waist
vespid, the silky ligatures which
our donor had surrounded the key
pipes. This filling put forward
behind his big white globes which appeared
Phillips illuminate the nave.

My glare was brief. I live on
the ground, facing Laura, a huge
rabbit sitting on its hindquarters, which
devoured his big eyes and pink
wet, stirring the nose. I shrugged
more about my and my crate
face fogged the window. I expected the
on. The Flemish Giant stood.

to follow ...