(Continues from Strong to Save)

Two forms raised their midnight wings and cut through
the amaranthine light speeding away
from the car crash they instigated. Though
he’s on a case, the detective stays.

Perhaps he’s spellbound by the flowing gas
escaping from the cracked tank onto grass.

I tipped my head back and stared out the rear windshield at the elusive hearts wooing the sky. What were those creatures I’d spied? Feathered darkness fading fast, high-flying shadows etched on the sky–what were they and why had they caused the crash?  What part did  they play  in the tragic tale trapping me in this trunk?

Giving the bejeweled annoyance a glare, I punched the window. My translucent fist bounced off it instead of penetrating. Damn, I was still stuck. What force compelled me to stay?

Angry now, I seized the dagger by its hilt and thrust my other hand through the window. If this thing meant to manacle me, so be it. I’d take it with me. Who I was in life is a mystery but  one thing’s certain. If I was a hero, I’d be sipping frothy drinks somewhere nice not spending my eternity searching for the one story capable of saving me. Maybe the story I seek is my own.

I slipped out of  the trunk but encountered a problem when I tried to reel my dagger holding hand through. The stupid thing refused to pass through. Great, I’d exchanged one prison for another. Shuffling to the passenger side, I craned my head to gawk at the crack up. Any minnute, the buckled metal and shattered glass should spew out a ghost like me. Any minute.

Find the earlier parts of this series here.

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For OctPoWRiMo, 31 poems in 31 days–all part of one story. Watch me do it.

 

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