Prelude
Rain, Rain go away.
The rain.
How meticulously do its drops sweep the streets.
The cleansing rain.
Drops fall upon the rugged surface of the roads, fall upon the roofs of cement giants that loom over the trees. Yet, rarely does a tear penetrate the thick bulk of the walls, to slide through the cracks of age and land on the head of a deep thinker. How futile is its attempt to cleanse the body and soul of a thinker who so testily moves away cursing the day and existence and his faulty roof.
The rain.
In the rhythmic beat of a heart, it will eventually find a curve of cheek that will embrace its cold comfort. And heavenly tear will slide over the deep gash in the head, over the staring eyes, over cut cheek and open mouth. It will pass over the broken jaw and carefully fall to the ground, carrying with it signs of human missteps. And the eyes will not blink. The lips will not move. And the mind can’t think of rain, only of eternity.
Rain Rain go away.
Take with you an end and usher in a beginning.
The Beginning
“He’s alive! By God, he’s alive.”
“Is he awake?”
“Yes, Madame. He’s awake but …”
“Open the lid.”
“I can’t permit that, Madame. But if you direct your attention to the monitors…”
“You know full well that I never trust machines.”
“But, Madame, the heart rate reached normalcy. He’s conscious and the breathing rate -- and look at the frequency of the electric pulses in the brain. He’s thinking! By God, he’s awake!”
“Open the lid.”
“But Madame, I’ve already told you that-- “
Tense silence.
“Well all right if you insist”.
And then. “Please stand back. Your appearance may shock him.”
The mechanical buzz echoed in the tense room. It bounced wildly off the white washed sanitized walls and drilled into the minds of the two humanoid shadows. One nervously cracked its fingers with its head bowed. The eyes roamed over the vast surface of the white sarcophagus. The other figure calmly stood. Not a muscle moved. At times it appeared as though the creature wasn’t even alive bur rather a carving from the finest marble. The machine creaked, gritting its metallic teeth against the soft plastic of the coffin-like structure. The intense beeping from many monitors announced progression of the said task. Roaming eyes fell on the electric pulse detector. “He’s thinking, but of what?” the nervous little man thought. Oh how he hoped that the results would satisfy the witch. His very life depended on it. Quite literally.
The plastic cringed, refusing to yield to metallic arms of the massive machine. The beeping of the heart rate monitor crescendoed. “He’s afraid”, the man thought timidly listening to the crazed rhythm of the beating organ. The teeth dug in deeper, breaking the elaborate wiring of the sophisticated machine.
A sudden flash.
Cold sweat stood out on the man’s wrinkled forehead. He promised her life, but opening up the UMTU (Universal Matter Transfer Unit) was murder. The chances of the creature within it surviving outside of the machine were in the low twenties. It won’t live. It will die the moment the lid comes undone and he will die with his creation. Yes, he really hoped that lady luck came knocking on his door today. The need for self preservation furiously beat within the hunched over little man.
An eternity later a crack appeared between the lid and the base of the bulky sarcophagus. And suddenly inhuman shrikes, sounds hardly of this world, cut through the music of mechanical buzzes and beeps. The little man jumped and his gaze leaped from the brain wave monitor to the sarcophagus and the mechanical arm trying to rip it open. There the roaming eyes froze and the man’s heart hit against the rib cage painfully. Faster and faster it beat. He thought that blood would sprout though his ears any moment now as the shrieks intensified.
Were they words? No, they were as though a wail of the storming wind. In the ghastly voice, the nervous figure heard the tortured demons of the underworld rave. No. They mustn’t let the lid open. Who knows what was within? What creature shrieked so that hair stood on the back of his neck? What else but a monster can make his blood freeze in his veins and heart to race? No, no…they shouldn’t let it out.
And yet, the massive power of the mechanical muscles forced open the gates. There was no turning back. A short prayer slipped through the man’s quivering lips. God Almighty forgive me for this abomination, for the weakness of my heart. Forgive me for this sin!
A hand slipped through the opening. It feverishly gripped the sides of the coffin, digging into the plastic with its nails. Knuckles white, the horrible paw of a hand with bulging bones and veins contorted in pain. A dull thump.
“Awd!”
The stone shadow drew closer. A certain fascination was written all over her aging features. Her calculating gaze fell on the convulsing hand. It griped the sides so hard that the sharp edge dug into the soft palm until blood spilled. Red against the white washed walls, the blood gleamed menacingly as it ran down the clutched nervous fingers and the sides of the entrapment. Another thud. My god, what will to live! She never witnessed such an act of violence and all for a glimpse of freedom. She couldn’t rip away her gaze from this drama of life itself even if she tried. The beeping from every monitor reached an even higher pitch, deafening the little man and the woman. The lines and numbers flashing out of control.
“Awd! Awd! Awd!”
She drew even closer, compelled to be near the wretched trapped creature. Her gaze was steady although behind the nonchalant mirror, fear lingered. The monster raged within its confinements and it kicked and smashed against the lid and clawed at the lid’s side. And that horrible howl of ‘Awd’ that bounced off the walls stopped her heart at moments at a time. Beads of sweat formed on her aged brow. The two minds of the figures worked as one, pondering on what they were witnessing. A secret history unfolded.
And though she was frightened, the woman came closer and closer to the unknown. What if? Yes, what if…Her wrinkled hand brushed against the convulsing fingers, painted red with blood. She threw herself upon the rising lid, feeling the violence pulsate through the plastic as the hidden creature raged within. She knew. It was alive. The thing inside was animated with God-fearing hot life and it burned her even if there were two feet of plastic and metal protecting her. In one touch to the monster’s hand she felt a soul stir.
“It’s him” the stone woman murmured. She closed her eyes and let the realization drown her in one wave.
“It’s him,” the nervous man echoed with uncertainty. Yes, it’s him. He’s back. He was brought back. My God please let it not be a mistake! And if it is, does forgiveness still exist in this world?
“The lid. I want it off now. Can’t you see? He wants out.”
She turned to face the frightened little man. Her eyes like daggers dug into the other and the cracked aged lips pursed into a tight commanding line. The man nodded, holding her imposing gaze.
“Yes. Yes. Of course, Madam. He wants out,” he mumbled. A shaky hand slipped into the pocket of his lab coat.
The machine cringed, at first refusing to obey the command, but then the giant metallic hands, that held the lid, closed tighter on it, dragging it upward. The plastic groaned, cracks forming on the surface of the lid. They ran down and up, from side to side, each one larger and deeper than the next. Two pairs of eyes devoured the sight of the metallic teeth digging into the inner workings of the sophisticated lid. It would not budge. The moments stretched into eternity. Frame by frame reality progressed, making each breathe a century long, each beat of the heart into a decade. The little man chocked on his own worry.
Moments passed. One. Two. Three. In its final desperate attempt to free the wretched creature inside, mechanical arms pulled the lid sharply heavenward while they squeezed the plastic between their tong-like hands. The man breathed. Another moment and then a horrendous sound overwhelmed his senses. An explosion. Ricocheting pieces of white material flying in all directions from the release of immense pressure. Madness.
And just like that, time jumped into its normal mind spinning pace. Clouds of the white shimmering dust rose to the ceiling, hitting against their confinements and unexpected darkness overtook the room. In such a glittering gloom anything was possible. The woman took in a deep shaky breathe, waiting for the white veil to vanish and it did bit by bit until….
She screamed. Oh god in one horrible moment a flying shard of the coffin lodged itself in the man’s forehead. One down. One to go. His blood sputtered in her stone face and her eyes bulged with confusion. Or was it just pure animalistic horror? The man tumbled backward, arms flying as if trying to catch last moments of life in the face of imminent death.
The corpse fell with a thump on clean white floor, spilling crimson. The eyes grew glazed but the perpetual look of nervousness didn’t leave the man even in death. The woman screamed even when her voice grew hoarse. His life seeped through the gaping wound and pooled around her expensive shoes. She didn’t think to run (admittedly though one can’t run away from mortality). She forgot about everything. Nothing existed but the terrifying image and her voice. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
But ignoring the tragedy befalling a certain little man, the beeping monitors came to a surcease on its own. The moan of the metal giant quieted to a light murmur of miniscule moving parts. In the confusion of settling snow white dust, a dark silhouette of another appeared. The woman turned her maddened gaze in the direction of the apparition. She wished to scream, but she choked on her voice and only whimpered. Wordlessly her lips moved, trying so desperately to articulate her surprise, confusion, fear. The stone figure closed her eyes and her hands reached out to the apparition. Come, come, she seemed to plead. She felt a million years had passed. She was a million years older now.
It did not move. It stood behind the curtain of dust. She beckoned to the hidden man and she said “Welcome.” Then it moved.
Rain, Rain go away.
The rain.
How meticulously do its drops sweep the streets.
The cleansing rain.
Drops fall upon the rugged surface of the roads, fall upon the roofs of cement giants that loom over the trees. Yet, rarely does a tear penetrate the thick bulk of the walls, to slide through the cracks of age and land on the head of a deep thinker. How futile is its attempt to cleanse the body and soul of a thinker who so testily moves away cursing the day and existence and his faulty roof.
The rain.
In the rhythmic beat of a heart, it will eventually find a curve of cheek that will embrace its cold comfort. And heavenly tear will slide over the deep gash in the head, over the staring eyes, over cut cheek and open mouth. It will pass over the broken jaw and carefully fall to the ground, carrying with it signs of human missteps. And the eyes will not blink. The lips will not move. And the mind can’t think of rain, only of eternity.
Rain Rain go away.
Take with you an end and usher in a beginning.
The Beginning
“He’s alive! By God, he’s alive.”
“Is he awake?”
“Yes, Madame. He’s awake but …”
“Open the lid.”
“I can’t permit that, Madame. But if you direct your attention to the monitors…”
“You know full well that I never trust machines.”
“But, Madame, the heart rate reached normalcy. He’s conscious and the breathing rate -- and look at the frequency of the electric pulses in the brain. He’s thinking! By God, he’s awake!”
“Open the lid.”
“But Madame, I’ve already told you that-- “
Tense silence.
“Well all right if you insist”.
And then. “Please stand back. Your appearance may shock him.”
The mechanical buzz echoed in the tense room. It bounced wildly off the white washed sanitized walls and drilled into the minds of the two humanoid shadows. One nervously cracked its fingers with its head bowed. The eyes roamed over the vast surface of the white sarcophagus. The other figure calmly stood. Not a muscle moved. At times it appeared as though the creature wasn’t even alive bur rather a carving from the finest marble. The machine creaked, gritting its metallic teeth against the soft plastic of the coffin-like structure. The intense beeping from many monitors announced progression of the said task. Roaming eyes fell on the electric pulse detector. “He’s thinking, but of what?” the nervous little man thought. Oh how he hoped that the results would satisfy the witch. His very life depended on it. Quite literally.
The plastic cringed, refusing to yield to metallic arms of the massive machine. The beeping of the heart rate monitor crescendoed. “He’s afraid”, the man thought timidly listening to the crazed rhythm of the beating organ. The teeth dug in deeper, breaking the elaborate wiring of the sophisticated machine.
A sudden flash.
Cold sweat stood out on the man’s wrinkled forehead. He promised her life, but opening up the UMTU (Universal Matter Transfer Unit) was murder. The chances of the creature within it surviving outside of the machine were in the low twenties. It won’t live. It will die the moment the lid comes undone and he will die with his creation. Yes, he really hoped that lady luck came knocking on his door today. The need for self preservation furiously beat within the hunched over little man.
An eternity later a crack appeared between the lid and the base of the bulky sarcophagus. And suddenly inhuman shrikes, sounds hardly of this world, cut through the music of mechanical buzzes and beeps. The little man jumped and his gaze leaped from the brain wave monitor to the sarcophagus and the mechanical arm trying to rip it open. There the roaming eyes froze and the man’s heart hit against the rib cage painfully. Faster and faster it beat. He thought that blood would sprout though his ears any moment now as the shrieks intensified.
Were they words? No, they were as though a wail of the storming wind. In the ghastly voice, the nervous figure heard the tortured demons of the underworld rave. No. They mustn’t let the lid open. Who knows what was within? What creature shrieked so that hair stood on the back of his neck? What else but a monster can make his blood freeze in his veins and heart to race? No, no…they shouldn’t let it out.
And yet, the massive power of the mechanical muscles forced open the gates. There was no turning back. A short prayer slipped through the man’s quivering lips. God Almighty forgive me for this abomination, for the weakness of my heart. Forgive me for this sin!
A hand slipped through the opening. It feverishly gripped the sides of the coffin, digging into the plastic with its nails. Knuckles white, the horrible paw of a hand with bulging bones and veins contorted in pain. A dull thump.
“Awd!”
The stone shadow drew closer. A certain fascination was written all over her aging features. Her calculating gaze fell on the convulsing hand. It griped the sides so hard that the sharp edge dug into the soft palm until blood spilled. Red against the white washed walls, the blood gleamed menacingly as it ran down the clutched nervous fingers and the sides of the entrapment. Another thud. My god, what will to live! She never witnessed such an act of violence and all for a glimpse of freedom. She couldn’t rip away her gaze from this drama of life itself even if she tried. The beeping from every monitor reached an even higher pitch, deafening the little man and the woman. The lines and numbers flashing out of control.
“Awd! Awd! Awd!”
She drew even closer, compelled to be near the wretched trapped creature. Her gaze was steady although behind the nonchalant mirror, fear lingered. The monster raged within its confinements and it kicked and smashed against the lid and clawed at the lid’s side. And that horrible howl of ‘Awd’ that bounced off the walls stopped her heart at moments at a time. Beads of sweat formed on her aged brow. The two minds of the figures worked as one, pondering on what they were witnessing. A secret history unfolded.
And though she was frightened, the woman came closer and closer to the unknown. What if? Yes, what if…Her wrinkled hand brushed against the convulsing fingers, painted red with blood. She threw herself upon the rising lid, feeling the violence pulsate through the plastic as the hidden creature raged within. She knew. It was alive. The thing inside was animated with God-fearing hot life and it burned her even if there were two feet of plastic and metal protecting her. In one touch to the monster’s hand she felt a soul stir.
“It’s him” the stone woman murmured. She closed her eyes and let the realization drown her in one wave.
“It’s him,” the nervous man echoed with uncertainty. Yes, it’s him. He’s back. He was brought back. My God please let it not be a mistake! And if it is, does forgiveness still exist in this world?
“The lid. I want it off now. Can’t you see? He wants out.”
She turned to face the frightened little man. Her eyes like daggers dug into the other and the cracked aged lips pursed into a tight commanding line. The man nodded, holding her imposing gaze.
“Yes. Yes. Of course, Madam. He wants out,” he mumbled. A shaky hand slipped into the pocket of his lab coat.
The machine cringed, at first refusing to obey the command, but then the giant metallic hands, that held the lid, closed tighter on it, dragging it upward. The plastic groaned, cracks forming on the surface of the lid. They ran down and up, from side to side, each one larger and deeper than the next. Two pairs of eyes devoured the sight of the metallic teeth digging into the inner workings of the sophisticated lid. It would not budge. The moments stretched into eternity. Frame by frame reality progressed, making each breathe a century long, each beat of the heart into a decade. The little man chocked on his own worry.
Moments passed. One. Two. Three. In its final desperate attempt to free the wretched creature inside, mechanical arms pulled the lid sharply heavenward while they squeezed the plastic between their tong-like hands. The man breathed. Another moment and then a horrendous sound overwhelmed his senses. An explosion. Ricocheting pieces of white material flying in all directions from the release of immense pressure. Madness.
And just like that, time jumped into its normal mind spinning pace. Clouds of the white shimmering dust rose to the ceiling, hitting against their confinements and unexpected darkness overtook the room. In such a glittering gloom anything was possible. The woman took in a deep shaky breathe, waiting for the white veil to vanish and it did bit by bit until….
She screamed. Oh god in one horrible moment a flying shard of the coffin lodged itself in the man’s forehead. One down. One to go. His blood sputtered in her stone face and her eyes bulged with confusion. Or was it just pure animalistic horror? The man tumbled backward, arms flying as if trying to catch last moments of life in the face of imminent death.
The corpse fell with a thump on clean white floor, spilling crimson. The eyes grew glazed but the perpetual look of nervousness didn’t leave the man even in death. The woman screamed even when her voice grew hoarse. His life seeped through the gaping wound and pooled around her expensive shoes. She didn’t think to run (admittedly though one can’t run away from mortality). She forgot about everything. Nothing existed but the terrifying image and her voice. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
But ignoring the tragedy befalling a certain little man, the beeping monitors came to a surcease on its own. The moan of the metal giant quieted to a light murmur of miniscule moving parts. In the confusion of settling snow white dust, a dark silhouette of another appeared. The woman turned her maddened gaze in the direction of the apparition. She wished to scream, but she choked on her voice and only whimpered. Wordlessly her lips moved, trying so desperately to articulate her surprise, confusion, fear. The stone figure closed her eyes and her hands reached out to the apparition. Come, come, she seemed to plead. She felt a million years had passed. She was a million years older now.
It did not move. It stood behind the curtain of dust. She beckoned to the hidden man and she said “Welcome.” Then it moved.