From Tartarus, With Love

A dark tide. Pooling and rushing forward, churning things up from the depths.

The mouth of Tartarus.

Not a pit. A pool.

They say once you get lost in it, you don’t come back out.

That’s what they say.

It’s why it was the perfect place for me. Chained and bound, tossed in a sack, thrown with an anchor around my ankle into the inky depths.

Tartarus awaited me then. Eager to swallow me up. Add another to its collection.

And they were more than eager to hand me over. To please the dark depths.

They say that when you get thrown into Tartarus, you don’t make it back out.

That’s what they say.

But they don’t really know much.

Do they? Continue reading “From Tartarus, With Love”

Clear Waves

“Are you sure this is safe?”

“No.”

I laugh, I can’t help it. He’s always exceptionally honest.

I appreciate that.

Though it doesn’t help ease my worry as I slowly slip into the empty pool. My feet dangle into the hollow place, too short to reach the bottom right away.

Something grips my hips. Continue reading “Clear Waves”

Gator in Waiting

When I was a kid, I would sit at the bottom of the swimming pool.

I would lie down, belly rubbing against the coarse cement. I would lie down, and I would see how long I could stay there. How long I could hold my breath. How long my crinkle-cut fingers could hold to the spaces of rough ridges. How long I could keep gripping to the bottom of the pool.

How long my ears could hold the silence.

Man.

That silence…

I drank it in.

Ate it up.

If I had thought I could consume that silence, I would’ve surely tried.

I’d have drowned straight away.

It was so comforting.

Too comforting.

Like walking into a restaurant in the throes of summer. The heat immediately eviscerated by the cool AC.

That’s what the silence was for me.

I wanted to gorge on it for forever.

Belly against the bottom of the pool, water-logged silence filling my ears, I felt like I understood why the gators liked to sit there. Figured I knew their motives.

In all honesty, I do, occasionally, get things wrong. Continue reading “Gator in Waiting”