Читать книгу Feebleminded - Ariana Harwicz - Страница 19

I’m woken by the click click of a C11 tactical fitted with a laser. Or was it the smell of peat in the air. Or walls of stone and moss. I’m woken by a bittersweet love that’s not real. Or rather than love, long, salty fingers. Traces of cowshit in the air. I’m woken by the thought that everything other than him coming in my arse just gets in the way. Mum on top of me all excited, and I just dreamt she was run over by an automatic car. The woman at the wheel wearing thick glasses and screaming from deep in her organs, how awful, again and again. I can smell petrol. They’ve poured some on the hornets’ nest and the hens are running in frantic circles. Mum, I’m going to faint. I dreamt you were retarded, you’d mistaken me for someone else and got jealous, you kept telling the nurses I was your prince and they winked at me so I’d pretend to be him, your suitor, and you covered my beard with kisses. A tainted night, white thunder falling on bats. You’re exaggerating. I’ll be back soon, get out of my way, I’m off to inhale his molecules and lick my lips. That’s my technique, sometimes it works. His vibration. I’m forever looking for holes to fall into. Dodging those ugly nocturnal doves. There. Let’s call the doctor. The one from the knife experiment? A very cerebral awakening. You have to test your impulses: take the knife by the handle, bring it slowly towards her chest and see for yourself that you won’t really stick it in. What a weird method, right mum? I was this close to slicing you open. The wind carries his smell towards me. Mother Nature brings him to the stables. Could you do me a favour and calm down? What are you on about? Motherfucking Nature won’t bring you shit. Radioactive rays, pollution, that’s all you’ll get from her. Pure vice. Get a hold of yourself, sort out your hair and let’s go. You know the moment when the sweet juice gradually collecting between your legs begins to trickle down? I want that wetness. I want that mollusc-like sloshing that keeps you from walking, that keeps you from living.