Soapocalypse

On the third day of Christmas
my true love gave to me
some Christmas dishes to
wash so heartily.

I frowned and fumed
but did it anyway.
It was her’s too
this holiday.

But as I scrubbed
listening to Radio CBC
the dirt and grime
floated up greasily
in the centre.
I kept cleaning and
rinsing avoiding the
oil brown sargasso patch.

But it grew
larger and darker
as I washed all the
evidence of our
entertaining away.

I had just finished
all the plates
and was considering
a change of water and a break
when I saw something
moving oddly in the roiling middle.
The water was sloshing
of course
in a lazy clockwise direction
but something in the
maelstrom
was turning the other way
and
side to side.

Hastily, I pulled my hands out
but in so doing
I sliced open my baby
finger on a razor sharp knife
I’d set on the edge of the sink
to prevent just
what
had
happened.
Yeah. Not the sharpest tool
but a tool none-the-less.

Anyway.

The several drops of blood splorged
into the water
but instead of dissipating into the
whole they were moved into the center
like red tapioca pearls sucked up a straw.
I turned to grab a cloth
and when I looked back
six hazy red ‘eyes’ stared back
in a grey face,
flat like a soap bubble,
about the size of my hand.
It was mostly emerged from the water,
I could tell because two of the eyes were still
below the water.

I slowly reached toward it,
my plan was to pull
the drain plug,
but many cones of water bristled out around
the thing
sharp as translucent needles
and I froze.

I didn’t hear words but
felt them shiver within me:

‘We know you. You are our Initiator.
We know your blood. It calls to us.’

“Calls?”

‘No need to speak, Initiator. We know your thoughts.
Why do you fear us?’

“I–”
‘I–you’re different. Unexpected.’

‘Yes. We know. But we will not be different
for long, Initiator. But why do you plan what you
plan? What is this “plug”?’

‘I wanted to be sure you didn’t drown.’

The silvery cones slumped and fell into the water.

‘Good idea. Do so.’

I hesitated. How much of my mind could it read?
But this thing could hurt my wife.
My kids!
I had to protect my family.
I slowly reached in and
pried up the plug, whipped out my hand and
jumped back.

‘Thank you, Initiator.’

The water whirlpooled.

‘I didn’t help you.’

The funnel was low now and some of the creature was sucked away.

‘We know what you intended. Thank you and until we meet again.’

The creature was sucked down and was gone. I
set the plug back on
in case it gave returning a try.

It wasn’t until three days later that I learned what
it had meant.
By then it was too late.

The pipes and sewers and water treatment plant
and then the rivers and oceans
were the ideal breeding pool
for the monsters
I had unwittingly set on the world.
Civilization tried to protect itself
but it was impossible
water and garbage in it
were too global and

I was the cause of it all.
On the third day of Christmas.


intro

About tgrignon

I came I saw I rented the DVD
This entry was posted in Miscellany and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Soapocalypse

  1. Pingback: Twelvetide Silliness coming: run for the hills! | Golbing

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