Wednesday, September 29, 2010


The boy, beautiful boy, drew their attention as he lounged on a box in the oily passage.

They glanced at him. Eyes suspicious, telling brains and meditronics they should stop and challenge him. But his silky black carelessness, his rare slimnity, turned their distrustings into little mouth curls. Too few boys postured like that anymore. Too little beauty floated un-besmirched in the uber-oiliness. Molecular heaviness choked everything. The everything, everywhere, not slimnity.

Oh, he loved playing them. With his legs just so. With his neck just so. His illegal mutterer under an armpit transmitted just below their detectors. The pulsings dazzled their meditronics just enough to make them blink slowly like that. To lull them into cozy thinking, even when they were trained not to wander loosely in the brain.

His didn't finger the test device he carried. He didn't toss it around in his palm, daring them to see, although he was that confident. What would the High Operatives do with him once he grew into a full man? When his malicious ballets were not so young and ele-gorgeous? Look how easily he infiltrated. How these women and men both thought about touchings rather than security and sniffing. Let them watch him work back at the Black House monitors. No one could doubt his worth. They probably lip-smacked now with eagerness to see their tasty new weaponry about to be deployed and proven.

The boy marked his target entering the hall, ending his playness.

The MojoMajor with his entourage.

They neared, and the boy knew that the MojoMajor would not be so blinky-eyed with his slimnity. That man's brain wanderings were long put into starvation.

So the boy's hand flashed out the cube. He breathed on it with his breath, and it registered agency and awoke.

With a mind-flit here, and a swoop command there, the device flew and slapped onto the ceiling. Ballet indeed.

The cube activated. No delay.

Oh yes. What a rainbow rain.

Very ele-gorgeous indeed.

As were their twenty millisecond screams.


the walking man said...

Got a little lost in the language but what I am wondering about is in your head was the Black House Monitors looking at their new weapon and was he a suicide bomber? Were they testing a new twist on an ancient form of assassination?

The Orwellian/Bradbury programmed society came out clearly enough. But was the egotistical beautiful now programmed to be the source of destruction

Shadow said...

very bleak...

Oddyoddyo13 said...

This was...slimy. LoL The boy seemed slimy, the act seemed slimy. Loved it! You mastered it BEAUTIFULLY. :)

Anonymous said...

Walking Man, you got it. This boy is an assassin for another group or power. I imagine him surviving the attack though. His handlers are monitoring the effect of the weapon and the boy's ability to do it with a flourish.

Shadow, a post, post-modern snippet of the future.

Oddyoddyo13, ha! It does feel slippery like that. And infinitely grimy.

Raj said...

you would kill your kids if you ever read them a goodnight story :P

Anonymous said...

Raj, that's an excellent point. I should stay mum.

AP said...

Interesting word that, that ele-gorgeous. Invented it?

Anonymous said...

AP, yes. My invention. Unless someone pre-invented it.

Terri said...

You should be working in Hollywood, dude.

Erratic Thoughts said...

I "Ah..Oh..Ohh..Shit..Well" 'ed it.:D