in this freshly revised extract from my novella-poem,
"Sludge White and the Seven Curmudgeons",
Sludge White ('Princess Pasty') and her animal escort
happen on the Curmudgeons' cottage,
and attempt to do something about it....
happen on the Curmudgeons' cottage,
and attempt to do something about it....
*******
hitherto
unversed in selfless intent
she
was eager to bond with her unforeseen friends
readily
treading this untested terrain,
exploring its depths with a groundbreaking lens.
since
the forest seemed bent on protecting her
she
decided to leave planning up to chance
and
aimlessly strolled through the wakening woods,
savoring
the rising sun's slant, dappled glance.
flowers
fell open at her feet as she walked
and
she noticed she was understanding birds,
their snatches of song a liquid lightning
expressing
a longing unburdened with words.
she
could feel deer converging behind her
for a
well of empathy had made itself known,
a timeless attachment dispensing with space
in cognitive lodgings sewn in with her own.
at
this juncture she stumbled on a cottage
appearing
abruptly, as if from thin air
with
a tumbledown roof and receding gables,
a
study in despairing disrepair.
its sagging, swaying siding was sidling away
and
the disgruntled windows were agape,
their
shattered shutters dangling from their hinges
as
though they'd collapsed while trying to escape.
the
overgrown path was sinking in quicksand,
its
flagstones settling in a miasmic berth.
fragments of a chimney, partially interred
had been spit back out by the disgusted earth.
a
stony bed of thorns served for a garden
while
a brackish fetid puddle formed a pool.
the yard was littered with polka dot scraps
like
the last remains of a detonated fool.
the
weather-beaten door had been left open
and
a rabbit had already hopped inside
to
see if the house held sadder disasters
its
sense of decorum was trying to hide.
as Pasty ventured in her diffident escort
fringed
the sills with rows of sniffing noses
anxiously watching their human companion
parting
the dust clouds as if she was Moses.
a
petulant hat rack ambushed the entry
brandishing
left hooks and spoiling for a fight.
the faded portrait had gone off its likeness
to
judge by the way it was howling in fright.
billowing
cobwebs flaunted from the ceiling.
jagged
bloody nails protruded from the floor.
an
ear-splitting squawk simply wouldn't let up,
seeming
to stem from some tortured upstairs door.
broken dishes were scattered on the staircase
as the dumbwaiter turned out to be a mime.
and the hours sped by, or dragged on and on,
since the clock was telling lies instead of time.
clinging vines wedged in through broken windows
had reconciled themselves to temperamental light
and swung from the rafters with abandon,
appending tendrils to whomever came in sight.
though the yarn was lax, aimlessly unravelling,
the spinning wheel was prickly and nettled.
the atmosphere was fraught with the odd little sounds
one hears when a house becomes unsettled.
while the sloping walls were inclined to crack up
broken dishes were scattered on the staircase
as the dumbwaiter turned out to be a mime.
and the hours sped by, or dragged on and on,
since the clock was telling lies instead of time.
clinging vines wedged in through broken windows
had reconciled themselves to temperamental light
and swung from the rafters with abandon,
appending tendrils to whomever came in sight.
though the yarn was lax, aimlessly unravelling,
the spinning wheel was prickly and nettled.
the atmosphere was fraught with the odd little sounds
one hears when a house becomes unsettled.
while the sloping walls were inclined to crack up
their moldings seemed content to simply moulder.
and the laws of science had gone off the rails
for the air inside just kept getting colder.
the tchotchkes on the mantelpiece were dismal.
and the laws of science had gone off the rails
for the air inside just kept getting colder.
the tchotchkes on the mantelpiece were dismal.
and
the capsized bottled ship had sprung a leak.
seven
smoldering pipes were stacked on a rack,
steadily
emitting an unearthy reek.
a
misshapen beast snoozed in the fireplace
giving
vent to yelps and stomach-churning snores.
a
rattled skeleton clung to the closet
unhinged
by the doorbells' spine-tingling roars.
the
bearskin rug was hooked on wrestling
stalking
pedestrians who dawdled in the hall.
a bygone stove probably exploded
as
a charred silhouette was splattered on the wall.
tiles
still trickled in a yawning crevice
divulging
a dank, disconcerting cellar.
the
distorted and conflicted cutlery
had
surely been abused by Uri Geller.
a pair of swishing knives were swiping the air,
enthralled in a gripping, swashbuckling duel
under a ceiling peeling and congealing
with a gut-wrenching, foul-smelling gruel.
while the toppling embankment of filth-laden plates
enthralled in a gripping, swashbuckling duel
under a ceiling peeling and congealing
with a gut-wrenching, foul-smelling gruel.
while the toppling embankment of filth-laden plates
teetered on its rank, precipitous brink,
whatever was crawling in the pantry
was hardly an antidote for repugnant stink.
the princess resolved to confront the frightful mess
finding
the task impossible to shirk
and
thinking there ought to be fewer locations
in
which such dubious things thought to lurk.
her four-legged posse pitched in at once
nurturing by nature and benignly inclined
seeming
to dance in synchronized motion,
a
symptom of borders becoming undefined.
squads
of birds flew in and out the windows
in
swift, deft movements precluding indecision
darting
and flashing in breathtaking arcs,
a
kaleidoscope of finely judged precision.
they
hustled and bustled back and forth all day
with
the throbbing pulse of a subway station,
scavenging
cobwebs to soften up their nests
and
ticking off the spider population.
a
badger coaxed the sleepy beast to vacate,
removing snarled burrs enmeshed in his coat.
then the squirrels rid the rest of the chimney
of the hazardous buildup of creosote.
the
rug was incited to tackle the hat rack
resulting
in a frenzied, seething tiff.
while
they were scuffling they were stashed in a sack
and
dragged to the edge of a neighboring cliff.
the
ear-splitting squawk belonged to a banshee
gone
out of her mind since she couldn't find work.
Sludge
White suggested the palace for a haunt
with
a windswept graveyard thrown in as a perk.
as
the skeleton could reassemble himself
sleight
of hand made him harder to dislodge.
but
he split when a raccoon scrambled his bones,
thoroughly
persuaded to get out of Dodge.
the
dumbwaiter thought better of theatrics,
and
the clock expressed remorse for having lied.
the
vines bought rumours of a spurious blight
and
promptly transplanted themselves back outside.
the
bloody nails were gingerly extracted,
the
missing bits of kitchen floor retiled.
while
the cutlery's core issues got hammered out,
the
floating fencing knives were reconciled.
the
clattering platters were finally washed
though
it took quite a hodgepodge of paws to do,
and
provoked a series of avalanches
that
skinned the shin of a towel-drying shrew.
the idle threads were spooled onto bobbins
and
nimbly settled on the nettled spinning wheel.
the
slop that had slipped from the bottle was mopped,
and
the ship was equipped with a brand new keel.
the
crumbling walls were propped up and painted
in
bright warm colors that delighted tired eyes,
chasing
muted shadows from their wonted nooks
and
encouraging the temperature to rise.
the
portrait was touched up by a porcupine,
tickling
its fancy and hindering howling,
subverting
The Scream with the Mona Lisa,
a dash of giggles besmirching the scowling.
a
wren taught the door-bell a whimsical trill
gleaned
from the whistle of a wandering bard.
the
godawful gruel was scraped off the ceiling,
sprayed
by a skunk, and buried in the yard.
the
crawling enigma remained unresolved
when
the pantry unbolted its musty air.
no
one could prove it ever existed
but
no one believed it was never really there.
a
sinister assortment of slinking things
were
fettered together and carted away,
entrusted
to a band of mendicant monks
who
held exorcisms every other day.
the
hapless cottage had been boldly rescued,
from
its freakish preternatural crisis.
but
the bone-chilling cellar was boarded up,
and
left to its disquieting devices.
the
animals returned to their woodsy dens
to
forage for dinner and rest until dawn,
except
for a lingering spectacled otter
frisking
with his friend, a freckle-flecked fawn.
the
birds made their roosts in the neighboring trees
with
fretful twitters and cacophonous cheeps,
incessantly
settling their favored perches
while
Sludge White slipped into the deepest of sleeps.
the
primal mantle devoured the cottage,
erasing
the fleeting distinctions of form.
the
chorus of insects wavered in waves,
like
patterns of rain in the currents of a storm.
the
penitent clock told the ticking tale
of
the untended moments of unheeded time.
and
a discarded heart lay soundly sleeping,
her
garments in tatters, her face smudged with grime.
*******
(thus endeth the excerpt - Evan Hawthorn, 19th of June, 2015)
(thus endeth the excerpt - Evan Hawthorn, 19th of June, 2015)
