Mind Blurbs #1

It was an intimate moment between me and this sickly old woman-thing here in the darkness of the cold cavern and the amber hued light radiating from her flesh. She looked like a wriggling larvae, the way her worm-body writhed and bobbed in and out of the flesh coccon that held the rest of her form, the way her too-needle thin bug legs swam in the air in slowly and laboriously, like reaching and pulling for something in the ether. Her eyes looked rancid, streaked with bulging vessels and her eyes milky with thick cataracts. Her poofy face was looked as if it had been frosted over with dust and covered in boils with thick green icor swimming under the strained flesh holding it under, her cracked thick dry lips smiling idly, empty of thought, as her thin amber hair got itself slicked with her mucoid spit and stuck itself over her face. She was an appaling flesh-thing with the face of a grandmother yet she had the most peaceful look on her. The way she seemed to be at peace, lost in a dream.

Gingerly, I knelt beside her, wiping those slimy strands away from her face, whispering to her. She responded, her voice sweet, raspy, kind and comforting. She heard me and responded in turn. The knot of fear in my belly unwound and tension in my muscles came loose, the longer I spoke to her. I spoke to her about anything and she spoke with me about it, with not a bad word to say about anything. Compliments, reassurance and wisdom. All she had but she had a lot to give. I was thankful for it.