Incoming Notification

Sphere Facility booting into existence…

Status Log: Event-X has occured.

Monoliths Compromised: 5,486

Automated Actions: Containment Zone Established

Area isolated, all contingencies in place.

Overall Sphere Status: 11% Dissonance

Rebooting

Rage

I rage.

I rage so hard against the uncaring, ruthless universe.

I bring to bear every weapon against it: I slash at it with knives and trigger vast cascading chains of atomic bombs.

This is the quantity of my rage. This is the quantity of my multitudinous arms as I beat at the universe and the sound of my innumerable mouths as I scream at it.

I am blood-soaked: freshly-birthed; freshly wounded.

I am wild-eyed and frenzied, I am so angry.

And we collide, again and again, me and the universe, the universe and me. We are soaked in each other, each wound I inflict on the universe I also inflict on myself.

The pain only makes me more wild and, still, I rage.

I rage.

I rage so hard against the uncaring, ruthless universe until I break; I come apart.

And yet even disembodied, still.

How do I rage with no hands to strike with? How do I rage when I have no mouth with which to scream?

I am the universe against which I rage and so, once again, I berate myself into existence.

Punching, slashing, exploding, my rage is infinite.

A Boy’s Nightmare

That night I had nightmare about Old Pete and his leg and Papa saying “he’s a damn fool” and being served Old Pete’s steaming hot guts on a plate and Papa standing in the doorway lighting a cigarette, fire blazing white, and Papa saying “he’s a damn fool” and the fading of my yellow and Luce standing on the rocks and the waves crashing against the rocks and the wood breaking against the rocks and the broken bodies of the Raftmakers all strung up along the shore and the sound of the screams of the man stuck by the brambles and Luce sayin’ we’re going in and Papa standing in the doorway turning to me and saying “damn fool” and lighting a cigarette, fire blazing white.