Mr Tom on Rea Road

1

The blood of sunset was replaced by the cool gray ashes of twilight2

and left her half-collapsed against a dirty brick wall,emblazoned in ancient green arabic pothooks and dashes.3

The faraway hum of the traffic remained constant (desertion beginning to nibble at her nerves), and all she could imagine was Tom,her4

ever-faithful, one-eyed tabby, splattered underneath the wheels of Mr. Wall Street.5

A strangely painted six-car train lunged over the underpass with startling suddenness,like a crazy steel bride rushing to meet her groom-6

wheels kicking up bright spinners of sparks.7

She wanted to scream,to call out his name...but her lungs seemed to have collapsed (like small crumpled paper sacks).8

Her mind wanted to leave her body and as she consulted her interior workings and tickings, she discovered that she was in a state of slowly building terror-9

intestines beginning to crawl about within her belly10

her mouth conducting a sharp unpleasant taste11

As the cobbles of Rea Road bled fresh blood in the sunset,12

the thick murky red glared off the windows and clotted on a church steeple across the way.13

At first it was hard to run, then easier as she headed downhill14

stopping only to press her hand to her side,where a red-hot spike seemed to have been planted.Her legs were beginning to turn to water-bags, and the last piece of day was now dying.15

Could she run from it all?16

The elderly houses like sleepy dowagers that closed in on her last ounce of remaining psyche...17

The children riding skateboards with no notable success...18

The fathers home from work, smoking the last day's cigar-19

it all seemed reassuringly normal.20

As the hot wind whipped her skirt around her knees and plastered an old ice-cream wrapper to her shin (removing it with a grimace of disgust)she looked up and stared directly into the face of Mr.Tom21

one-eyed and inscrutable peering sheepishly from behind the soap-streaked window in front of her.22

Now, he was the one who wanted to run.23

He was on the move...a hunter awaiting combat, albeit just a confused rodent dining on week-old Pad Thai...it was Mr Tom's conquest,24

and he wasn't stopping for her. Pink eraser nose and tufted battle-scarred face, watching, waiting.25

She couldn't move towards him...he was as afraid of her right now, as she was the night, and she then realized that they were in this cast of darkness together,washing the cobbles with a strange light, and making all the surroundings look as if they would burst into flame.26

A gathering of two nightmares on Rea Road.27

Scared, running, and totally undone-staring at each other like blind prisoners running away from a deaf warden.28

Mr. Tom had rolled in death, and celebrated in feline urine.29

She had connected with the fear of death...and didn't care what he smelled like, scooping him up with the unconditional love of a mother, celebrating his life.30