Blood

There was blood on the paper and he continued to stare at the cut like it was some word form of beauty, a perfect mercenary circle that even Plato would bow down his ‘crystal-clear’ thoughts to. He continued to stare at his ain redness substance, wondering ‘why make people name it “blood”?’ His manus was starting to experience somehow asleep and maybe a small bored. All he wanted to make was stretch it to the extremes or even better smack it as difficult as he could to the large bookshelves that were all around the room. Yet, he just continued to stare until his vision started to experience that soft sense of a moony air.

The world became little and he was upside-down. His eyes, coughing merely mascara-toned looks, and his anterior nariss were perfectly smooth and hairless. Then he touched his shirt with fingers that had no nails. The shirt felt strange, like a combination of animate being tegument and flower pores. Obviously, the trousers were followed by the same concerted unidentified material. He looked somewhere down. Interestingly, there were people staring at him, doing gestures, dancing, combustion animals, crying, screaming at him, vocalizing and even bowing their caputs in respect, like he was some sort of Supreme Being…

They all looked suffering to him, and while he wondered why were they doing all that material and why was he so high, on top? Gradually a adult female came up.

‘Who are you?’, asked the adult male eagerly. ‘Your companion, your servant, your love, your hate, the female parent of your children, maybe your ain mother. I am your boss, your neighbor, your past, your present, your future…’ said a alone voice. Stumbled, but more than eager the adult male asked again:
‘Why did you come up up here?’

The adult female responded:
‘To protect you, so you can be afraid; to be protected, so you can be proud. I came because you came first; I arrived because you could never be here without me.’
The adult male studied her. ‘A human masterpiece’ helium thought, and asked again:
‘What is your name?’
‘My name is not important’, she said, ‘You volition love me as a woman, and in other times you will turn me into a man.’
This response stuck him. It made no sense at all loving a adult female and turning her into a man… Was that possible? He looked down. People were more than suffering than ever. Activists and Protestants with large postings where was spelled an unknown region word ‘FEMINISM’ were everywhere. In presence of them other people. Angry-looking shapes and sizes, ready to blast and detonate on whoever was going to upset their way. Sad faces, soiled eyes and crying everywhere…
‘What is going on?’ helium asked her.

‘This’, the adult female said, ‘is called the modern world, where every inch you look, you will happen something modern, different, strange, but acceptable; weird, but beautiful; not equal, but living. Come with me and let’s go a portion of it. This is the concealed past, the growing present, and the damned future. As long as we are together the twines shall stay tuned. I’ll convey you felicity and you’ll convey me joy. Give me your hand, come up up with me…’

She started to come near and closer, until his manus felt that crisp sense again and helium came back to his drone reality.

‘No! Don’t leave!’ he thought. But the adult female was not there anymore. All of a sudden life seemed so far away and for the first time he knew he was going to lose it. But his head was getting colder, every second, or it was just his body… Helium couldn’t tell. All he could recognize was that he kept staring at that reddish matter people called ‘blood’, piece it flowed from his carpuses like a river filled with emotion.