The Junk Heap of the Human Soul

July 6, 2011 at 8:09 am (Words)

Blue stood looking at a corroded metal hulk that used to be a car. It sat flat on the ground in a field with thousands of others like it, covered in flakes of rust that reminded him of dried blood on a corner store toilet seat. He pressed his hand against the cold, gritty surface and pulled it back, looking at the red-brown stain it had left on his palm and fingers. “This is the best man can achieve,” he thought. “Here is the product of all the workings of his mind, a marvel of human engineering, dead and decaying in a junk heap. Thousands of hours of planning, of thought, of work.” He looked at the broken shell of the abandoned factory in the distance. “The lost hopes and broken dreams of a family, a company, an industry, a nation.”

Blue looked back at the wreck, staring at the fractured reflection of his face in the shattered windshield, silhouetted in broken planes against a dead, grey sky. Inexplicably, he thought of penguins who stand in the freezing cold, enduring ice and snow,  without eating for months only to watch their young fall off their feet and onto the ice, to freeze to death in seconds before their eyes.

Blue suddenly realized that he was staring at two faces in the glass. Cassius stood behind him, watching his reflection with her perky, black ears swept back and up over her head. She smiled smuttily.

“It’s wonderful isn’t it?” Her green eyes sparkled as she swept her arm across the junkyard. “All of this, a grand show of man’s futile rebellion against the fact that that everything ends. This is the greatest answer to the greatest question: ‘What for?’ This,” She said, kicking a flat tire “This is the only truth. Do you see why the struggle against death and destruction is useless? In the long run everything comes to a stop.” Cassius picked up a rock and sent it sailing into a window. She laughed gleefully.

Blue had climbed onto the corpse of the car, and leaned back against the smashed windshield, looking into the blank sky. He watched Cassius at play. Her hair was  short and jet black. Her clothes, a tattered sweater and blue jeans, were too big for her, likely stolen or found in the dump. She had a child’s face, showing no signs of pain, or malice, or guilt. She threw another rock.

She wandered through the junk heap, admiring the wreckage, talking to no one. She hadn’t checked to see if Blue were listening. “Every human being has an undefeatable enemy that will eventually smash, destroy or rot him and everything he has ever created.” She held a piece of rusted metal in both hands and twisted it with a creak. “What can stand against the power of volcanoes, earth quakes, hurricanes, or rust, or decay, or entropy? The man who thinks nature can be commanded is a fool” She spat on the emblem of the logo of a company on one of the mangled hoods.

Cassius walked back and straddled Blue atop the wreck. He looked away as she pressed her body against his. He grimaced as shards of broken glass dug into his back, but he didn‘t say anything and she didn’t seem to notice. She whispered into his long, brown ear,
“You cause pain with your birth,” She touched his face.
“You struggle through a life defined by conflict” She moved her hand slowly down his neck.“Conflict with nature.” His chest.
“Conflict with others.” His stomach.
“Conflict with yourself.” She breathed and slid her hand down his pants.
“For What? No matter what you do, no matter what type of person you think yourself to be, in natures final, and perfect, causation, we are all dead and nothing means anything.”

Blue groaned, but Cassius felt his cock growing in her hand, betraying him. She kept her prey pinned tightly between her body and the broken glass as she pulled his loose pants to his knees. She pressed her head to the side of his face and pulled down her own pants. Blue closed his brown eyes as she smiled. He heard the sickening squirt of her spitting into her hand and moments later felt her coating his cock with the slimy mucus. She licked his face and slide him into her. She was already very wet; she always was.

Blue thought of the way a sea turtle drags its heavy body up the beach, with flippers designed for swimming. Cassius was rocking back and forth now. Once he felt her slip and stop for a moment, but within seconds began again. He thought of how the turtle uses those flippers to dig into the sand. It lays hundreds of eggs in the hole, and covers it back up. Blue felt something hot and wet on his face and then his neck. Cassius stuck her fingers in his mouth. The coppery taste of blood reminded him of pennies, and his childhood.

He opened his eyes to see blood pouring from a gash on Cassius’s palm, dripping onto his face. He looked at her, his eyes wide with shock, but she covered his mouth with the still bleeding hand. He thought of how hundreds of baby turtles would fight their way out of their shells, and then out of the sand. He could hear Cassius above him, her pants and moans growing louder, echoing off the twisted metal hulks surrounding them. He thought of the seagulls that would devour the turtles on their race to the water. He thought of the sharks that would greet the ones who made it.

He felt her muscles tightening around him, her nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders. When they had finished they both lay on their backs looking up at the sky.

Cassius thought of the millions of sperm fighting their way through her at this very moment. She thought of how most would be expelled into the rusty wasteland of the hook of the junk car. She thought of how the rest would wither and die inside her, finding a barren womb. Smiling, she fell asleep.


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