Street Science

1/29/2002
03:30

His eyes had grown wide and were hypotonic with the tears he could not cry but always felt. There were blood cells lingering in armies on his fingertips as he gazed at the jagged incision tracing the tissue of his sister’s throat. An inexplicable urge insisted that he take in the probabilities of his situation, devising matrices and vectorial circumstances. Maybe it had been due to Markonikov’s Law that the hydrogen be attracted to the compound with the lesser substitutes, and that breath would come to him… and fire to her. Perhaps it was a chemical imbalance in his head as he pondered the rules of nuclear fission, while wondering why Heisenberg had bothered to go see his partner and mentor at all… But nitrogen was in the air and he had lacked of the smaller components that let his lungs function.

He remembered the collisions and the deafening reactions, and he remembered how there had been an oath to the annihilation of bonds. Bonds to substances that froze his brain and sent him visions of the future. But there had been other players. And she had only been a catalyst for the inevitable. An agent that did nothing until the right reactants were introduced. And at the energy of activation, all had been sent to Hell and illusions of compatibility disappeared. Gore was nothing more than a flick of the wrist and an upturned smile. Flesh was torn and that insubstantial feeling called hope vanished. He knew only to bend now; not in flexibility, but malleability. His effervescence had died and what anger was left only fizzled with an ember’s warmth. Carbon was useless, though used to write instead. It was all written in black and red to be washed away by the cycles of precipitations, tainted in acid.

Old school.

~Noct…………………