vesselcollective

13 Bob Soto

In Lost, Submission on August 17, 2010 at 12:22 pm

         The tops of the tall grass shake and roll as I imagined they would. The naked viper slithers beneath like a fish in the water, completely and utterly within her element, able to strike at anytime but the chase is what is most thrilling. So, she waits. And waits. And waits ever so diligently, the way a frog waits on a fly letting the prey do all the work. But even more diligently and effortless, like a Venus Flytrap. The predator is one with the ground beneath its scaly complexion so much so that I’m blind to its presence. It’s not even there. God, I am a wreck. My stomach is in a balled up knot, mashed and crushed to a pulp. It hurts. It’s making me sweat. And cry. I can’t afford that in this heat. I’ll just sit– wait out the pain. That tall grass keeps moving and the only thing I can think of is when that breeze is going to hit me. That would feel just fine right now, a breath of fresh air. But it never comes and so the sweat cascades in beads down my face like runners racing for the prize. The pulp that is my stomach is now throbbing in a constant beat. It’s the metronome from hell. Fetal position. This usually helps but now it’s getting dark. Is that my unbalanced mind making it so or is the sun going down? I can’t tell. The sweat has now pooled around my head. To a passerby I would appear to be lifeless. But my feelings are quite the contrary. Every cell is on fire with biting passion. I’m burning from the inside out yet I’m alive and I can’t stand it. Now I know, the viper kissed me.

-Bob Soto, Orlando

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