Roses, Dandelions, Teardrops
by Russell Hemmell
Antlers of roses, thorns of dandelions - the corpse is there, beauty in slumber.
I’m on the crime scene too, ready for the hunt, but it’s not the killer I’m after. It’s the crowd - sick humanity excited by violence. Hungry eyes and lustful stares, they can’t get enough of death in theatres and upset dreams, they want it real.
They want it alive.
I let people gathering around like flying shimmering pistils and, made invisible by my lack of significance, I take eyes shots - their faces engraved in my memory, biologic and artificial.
Until the moment they bleed too, victims and heroes - limelight’s shooting stars for once in their life
Russell Hemmell is a statistician and social scientist from the U.K, passionate about astrophysics and speculative fiction. Recent stories in Gone Lawn, Not One of Us, SQ Mag, and elsewhere.”
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'The tick-tick-tock of the clock'