Birds and Stones

Eight

She does not see War the next day.

Of course She is hiding in the shadows watching her, but she does not see Her.

She sits on the sidewalk with her hands tucked under her thighs. She rocks herself. The moon shines through the night, it breaks through. It is a facade of innocence.

She smiles a little at her use of the word. At least she thinks she smiles, she is not sure. Her lips stopped being hers and started being numb's sometime ago.

She waits for War. She sighs into the night. She wants to tell Her to come out already. She is a child after all. She can not be patient for too long.

War come out she singsongs and is surprised at her airy tone. She thinks that if anyone hears her right now they will think her deranged. Finally lost her marbles like the half of them who aren't dead.

She flinches away from the presence of War sat closely next to her. She asks Her When did you get here and War smiles and says I am full of surprises. Her tone is dry.

She asks War What's wrong. War only shakes Her head and has that adultish twist of the lips. She hates it. She wants to snap. But instead she tells a story.

War today something strange happened in the market. We saw a man screaming like an animal. People held him from all sides. His eyes were red. He screamed like he was possessed.

She gazes at War as She looks ahead but only sees those puppet eyes. War seems to be thinking. Not thinking to say anything, just thinking.

The man started to slap his forehead she continues her story. She is growing excited with her pivotal role as storyteller. She is growing excited to be utilising her trauma.

She leans into War, brushes her arm against Her steel one. War is still looking ahead.

War, do you know what he did next she starts but then suddenly laughs. It is the sound of bells and freedom. It also carries discreet undertones of a madwoman in the making.

He pees on the streets she screeches and is laughing again, so boisterously she clutches her bony stomach to prevent it from being ripped through. She does not care if she seems rude or disrespectful, the story is hers to tell.

After a while with the wind tickling her ears and War unmoving she says Baba closed my ears and hid my eyes and turned me around. He told me the man was going mad. And I told him, Baba how can people go mad. Because I am sure I will never go mad. I am sure I will never stray.

She looks at War and for a change War looks back.

She was wrong about War's eyes. They are capable of expression, she has unlocked something.

What have I done. War is afraid because of What have I done.

The child thinks War is only intrigued by her story. Finally someone is listening. She continues to rock Herself.