No Cygnet for Sleep: 10
‘No Cygnet for Sleep’ contains strong language, sexual scenes, drug use, and gore.
No Impasse For Cattle
By Jivan Ward
There small window in her apartment overlook park and service station. Watch damp wood window sill go green. Watch leaves fall clog drain and disintegrate under tyre and cold like glass sheeting. We turn off phones, unplug TV, she no modem. There no connection outside but that window and park and service station. Watch cars come and go and fill up. Watch families come and go and play. Watch Suna go and come, I only stay. Part me sorry. She open my eye to Xana and Ané and I just sleep and eat what she bring and look out window at park and service station. She touch leg say, We need to go back to the lab. She squeeze arm say, We need to find out what they’re doing. Sit between knees smirk say, Kami it ain’t all that bad.
Grey whirlpool churn splash into white and red vein pulse that blink on the ceiling stare down at me twilight midnight blue morning stare down say, Help me. I transfixed look into eye see lecture room with literature and screen projector and lessons and student fill up and student leave wish this was just holograph by bulb. I transfixed look into eye see time pass and people like hummingbird flutter about and I am ghost walk among them laugh them love. I am wander shadows. Watch on. I transfixed look into Suna bedroom. When she sleep hair wiry nest of black crescent moons sway lull like tide. When she sleep skin no makeup stains grease and chemical free. When she sleep boxer shorts and belly buttoned olive skin. When she sleep sometime she smile me in.
She lean against door frame say, You said Ané had one right? Teeth knotted I nod. She stand in door way say, Kami, you’re not curious about why they made Xana you don’t wanna know what they’re doing with it? They say to yes at opportunity teeth knotted nod apprehension to the floor say, I do I’m just scared of what we’ll find out. It flutter the anger I fester in her since I stay. She teeth clench she bark me say, You don’t think it’s our responsibility? I stand to touch her elbows and bone that point at ribs. I agree. She walk to window over look park and service station and we plan.
She look at carpet as I leave. Chain rattle, cold bite cheek, teeth knotted think, This is for you, world.
Jivan Ward was born and reared in London, where he learnt that there’s more to life than what surrounds you. Stumbling out of a tumultuous passion for music, into the corridors of libraries and the dank recesses of fiction, he began writing poetry and short stories before going to university to study the craft and art of writing. Tit led to tat and he works in retail and is currently writing a novel and running a blog. He believes the internet is a force of neutrality and that the publishing industry should invest more in its authors than its devices.
For more Information on this Series, Visit: No Cygnet for Sleep: An Introduction
To Follow the Entire Series, Visit: No Cygnet for Sleep: Jivan Ward