Monday, April 4, 2011


Today's muse: The Dark Place

* * *


The pirouettes are feeble now, my delicate porcelain arms are chipped. Parasites have chewed my tutu, leaving me exposed.

It is bright and shrill when the cover is lifted. I want to dance again, but the music won’t play. Painted eyes streak down sallow cheeks, splash onto the pedestal below. Brackish waste wraps around the coils, halting movement, corroding life.

The blessed darkness is what I yearn, and I succumb to its will when the lid closes down on me.


Deborah said...

I can see it all, sad, layered, dark, and brillaintly written!

glnroz said...

it seems i can hardly wait until the next,,,

Monica Manning said...

@Deborah: Thanks for that. I needed a happy voice. There are too many angry ones around me right now.

@glnroz: I sure hope the next one will get me out of the box!

jason evans said...

If only the lid would stay down, it would be easier.

But then again, that would suck too.

jaerose said...

The little music box ballerina..left to rot as her little dancing owner grows older..literal or metaphorical this was a fine dance...Jae

Spook The Scribbler said...

Deliciously creepy!

Monica Manning said...

@jason evans: there are days (perhaps too many) that I wish it would.

@jaerose: thanks for twirling with me!

@Spook: it is very dark in the box!