(Continues from Blue)
Staring at Wall Street I watched the offices
light up as the drones who worked them filed in.
Fog shrouded a building full of losses.
Behind the bull, profit stalked tempting sins.
Money sings to a herky-jerky swing,
a dance of decimals ’til the bell rings.
Two shadows swooped talons extended for the grab. Snatching a passerby’s trench coat, they rose and I wound up for the throw. But the damned knife refused to part with my hand. The two were stuck fast, glued by fate no doubt. What the hell had I stumbled onto?
I watched the stunned fellow, an oldster pushing well past retirement, as he staggered. His washed out demin eyes caught mine and reeled me in. I was a fish flopping on his magical line and the fool just smiled at my struggles.
“How can you see me when no one else can?”
“Give me the dagger,” he said ignoring my question.
He’d hooked me good. The more I resisted, the closer he dragged me. I had no weight to throw into the fight. Death had ssucked all the mass out of me leaving just tattered threads behind and not enough of them to make a whole.
“Look buddy, I’ve become rather fond of this edged troublemaker.” I raised my hand and shook it. The blade stayed fastened to my palm by otherworldly means when I spread my fingers wide. “We’re a package deal at the moment.”
“Oh really?” One white eyebrow winged up, issuing a challenge before the fellow started talking as if he had a mouthful of gravel. What words issued around his sudden speech impediment were garbled into gibberish.
“Why don’t you take your mumbo-jumbo somewhere else? I ain’t in the mood.”
He laughed and two shadows fell, claws extended, from the sky aiming right for me. Some stories ought to remain a mystery. Going in-depth on this one might end my unlife.
~ ~ ~
For OctPoWRiMo, 31 poems in 31 days–all part of one story. Watch me do it.
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