Thursday, March 18, 2010

Fall to Earth.

Fall to Earth.

The real battle begins as we fall to Earth. Eyes are locked. Arms like lead poles intertwined. Breaking like the snap of a twig with the struggle. Fusing back together with each grasp for power. Every ounce of my strength pours into each blow. Connecting and pushing the tissue of his face across the atmosphere. Retaliation charges across the expanse of space toward me. Fist links with the base of my jaw sending me back for miles. Gaps larger than canyons created by the forces between us. Grinning, I regroup and charge back into battle. Watching my bleeding adversary wave me back in is a laugh. 

“You call that a punch?” I jest with a flying roundhouse to his head. “What the fuck kind of name is Red Tango?” My hair is a fiery tornado of excitement whipping around as I slam another blow into his chest. 

“Stupid girl! With your pretty little purple mask to hide those pretty little eyes. You wouldn’t know a good name if... Do you even know WHO I AM?” Mouths the caped champion as he slaps a five cent sting across my cheek with the back of his studded glove. “Pure insolence with the youth these days. Go back to your mama and let the big boys handle the business of…”

Five fingers balled up into a brick tight fist nail him square in the mouth. I can’t help but interrupt this geriatric hero in mid rant. “Cheap blow old man. My mask is hardly purple. It’s Deep Violet Sunrise with a hint of Mango highlight for warmth. Old man, maybe you should get your eyes checked. Go back home and nurse your bruised ego.”

Laughing with a mouth full of blood he issues another slap. “Violet Sunrise, I should have known. Forgive my ignorance. Let me guess, next you’ll want to call it a draw so that pretty little outfit doesn’t get dirty.”

“Quitters Never WIN!” I issue a full forearmed back hand to the side of his head with an elbow kicker for good measure. “AND DON’T MAKE FUN OF MY OUTFIT!”

“HAHA! Or your hair! That tangled mess of red looks like a rat’s nest. You ought to have invested in a headband instead of that mask.” Tango grabs my hand to stop the next blow. Using my free one I balance myself against his shoulder and throw a kick straight into his gut. The push sends me spinning off into the stratosphere.   

Spiraling downward towards the enemy I dive. Full forced fury with a death wish behind it. Both arms joined like a missile aimed for target. Calmly he stands midair waiting for collision. Cape whips in the air while he blows the imaginary dust from his gloved fingernails. His grin goads my vengeance. The more I amuse him, the more I get pissed off. True to form he ducks out right before impact. Damn. Circling around and then it comes down full throttle. Hand to Jaw. Elbow to head. Kneecap to gut. Spinning downward away from the laughing hero. I regain my pride once more and turn back in.  

I slow my approach to bait the adversary who comes willingly. “Foolish old man. You still forget I have something you lack… Stamina.”  

Without warn the bull charges and seeks a target. Not this time. Quick thinking lands me over the speeding bullet and backwards facing the sun. Reflexes grant me the instinct to hurl a spin kick in the nothingness over my right shoulder. Target acquired. Down falls the champion. Falling. Falling. But not for long. Blink of an eye reveals a blur of speed nearly missing my left arm. 

“Impudent child. You’re no match. I’ve proven this more than once. Give up. Hand over the crystal lens for the Hallson device.” 

“Or what? Come and get it!”

Full blown battle wages onward miles and miles above the Earth. None of the little people living their everyday lives are the wiser. Flight takes place through clouds of white and above the blue green of the surface floor beneath. Like tiny flicks of light bouncing. Up. Down. In. Out. Sunlight. Shadow. Darting through the open expanse of sky. Ending with an Earth shaking crash. A final standoff comes to booming roar upon the rounded edge of the planet. Nuclear explosion against the blue perfection. Mid-sky collision marks the ultimate face-off. 

Downward we fall. Interlocked in blows. Each powerful stroke lifts and falls with the force of an atomic bomb. Sound barriers are broken as our struggle reaches deeper intensity. Battered and bruised I keep with the moment. Pushing myself to embrace the pain of the beating. For every two connections to my body I manage to get in one magnificent thump against captain heroic. The good boy scout was right, I’m not his equal. Last bang to the jaw sends my eyes rolling back and body limp. Fading quickly. I’m going down.

“You’ve had enough. I’m taking the lens. By my guess you should be able to fly on your own.” The geriatric Boy Scout informs me before removing my belt. But I’m not giving up so easily. Damn him. Failing strength allows me one final strategic blow to his waistline. Off spins the cowboy with my belt. One handed charge I’m hurtling toward my intention. He’s waiting. Flying into the mouth of the beast. Open jaws prepared for the snare. Eyes on the prize.  T-minus 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. Cataclysmic impact. 

Crack of defeat resounds across the atmosphere. Dropping. There’s no light on the ground or in the sky. Brightest spot in the heavens is me falling like a rock down to the depths of Earth. Sound echoes across the sky. Whistle like a missile dropping onto it’s target. Arms and legs lifeless. Air sounds grow louder. Body is unresponsive. Deeper. Blood that can not pool slips upward into the atmosphere above me. No more Violet Sunrise mask. Hair whips up and around my face in a frenzy. Descending. Watching the stars above grow brighter and brighter. Bottomless fall to Earth. 

A superhero one. I’d been playing with this notion since last summer. June to be exact. This one is kind of dedicated. I don’t know. A gifted friend of mine dabbles in comic books. Graphic novels. Have you seen the artistry on that stuff? In any case… Very talented artist. Just brilliant. I’m still waiting for the debut. Needless to say I’m a bit of a nerd and love comic books as well… occasionally. It’s been a long while. My friend would never need a collaborator, but I would enjoy the challenge of that sort of writing. And honestly I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather work with. Perhaps someday. Anyhow, I’m a bit battered tonight. Shoulder is out of place and le doctor was out today. Struggling with the pain most of the night/day and definitely no longer overdoing it with the projects. Patience. The dresser will get finished. Back to writing daily between it all. It’s my happy place. Day, night, up or down. Enjoy. M.

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