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Mitchell May 2011
Assembly line broke down as the mirrors crashed and cracked.
"Angelina!!!" the crooked boss man yelled.
"Get in herre" the crook socks rang like bells.
Angelina poured sweat of the yellow blouse she had bought two days before for another interview in another office and another profession altogether. The room spun for her even though she would rather have it stay still.
"How much longer till this mechanism shifts and all of this stops altogether. Have their been madder women then me? Has there been madder men then me? Have their been madder times or are the times the same just with different tools and gears and nuts and bolts to tirelessly continue, heaving the corpses through the concrete cracked and littered streets?"
"Angelina!!!"
Another nail gun dropped to the floor, firing twenty rounds into fifty blue collared men's tie clips, deflecting them all to the near by wall which held the coats, the hats, the work shoes which the men were not allowed to wear due to "safety intrusions" and "labor union by lateral horizontal negative dairy laws". Another unfortunate fortune from the cracked mirror case but that, of course, is not the story, our story is...
"Angelina!!!"
Angy hurried up the hungry, empty metal n' holy stairs. She lost her high heels in a crack in the stairs but left them there due to the fear. 2011 had been a good year until she had been forced by her landlord, also her boyfriend, to get a real job rather then stuffing her knitted socks with her poetry and trying to haggle them to new age modern morons of the hip near sighters whom glasses were unintelligible but necessary. The mirrors of the conveyor belts reached the top of the platform but the door was shut. The mirrors bent and shattered leaving the splintered pattern of the world outside of them multiplied by the millions.
Noon was her lunch break and it was noon oh two. Angelina would be late with her lunch and the landlord, Nick, was planning to stop in with some home made sandwiches and home made potato chips.
"Nick will have to wait." Angelina thought to herself. "Nick hates to wait."
Angelina entered to stand in the wake of a shaking, sweating purse wearing, purse lipped boss boss. His hair was tossed to one side, struggling to hide his baldness. The subtelty of their relationship was difficult considering Angelina had slept with boss boss to get tossed this job. The act was actually enjoyable, Angelina thought him a good lay, but boss boss was not a fun person to be around, and he was a much worser boss.
"Angelina!!!"
"Hi."
"Your FIRED!"
"Bye then sir..."
"ANGELINA!!!"
"Yes sir?"
"AREN'T YOU GOING TO ASK WHY YOU WERE JUST SO HASTILY AND VIOLENTLY FIRED?"
"It is not my place to inquire why I was fired sir. If I was not doing my specific duty well enough I trust you, as my superior, to have thought what this subtraction would do to your company. If I had questioned you I would be questioning yourself as a boss and I would never want to do that...sir."
"VERY GOOD. DISMISSED!!!"

---

"So he just fired you, no explanation, nothing?"
"There was nothing really to say after the fact."
"You could have demanded an explanation."
"I was in a hurry to meet you. I know you hate to be late for our dates."
"That's sweet."
"And boss boss shouldn't have to explain himself, he IS a professional."
"He works in mirrors which doesn't make at all make him a ropes course supervisor."
"He's very handsome when He means what He says."
The home made potato chips had been burnt because Nick had fallen asleep while watching old re-runs of run marathons from the 80's. Nick had trained for the Olympics in 83' but while home after training and drinking an OK shake, Nick had stubbed his toe while drinking the OK shake and trying to get to a ringing telephone. Nick had collided so perfectly, so quickly and with such for that his right big toe had bent all the way back, his big toe fingernail touching the hairy patch on the top of his foot. The doctors said amputate the toe and save the foot or chop the entire thing off altogether. Nick, not being a dumb ****, opted for the entire foot. He never raced again.
"Are you going to try and get your job back?
"I don't know"
"Well. It's the 28th tomorrow and I need the rent either way. The insurance agency I'm with has been bugging me about percentages and utilities and...well, you don't want to hear about my worries."
"I don't mind sweety."
"Thanks doll. What're you gonna do?"
"Find more work I guess. I haven't written anything in a while, maybe it's a good time to get back on that train, see what comes up."
"I saw a help wanted sign at the mall nail salon."

---

Baby stroller wheels lined with pink and grey gum were lined up against the overwhelming glass wall enclosing the shops from the streets. Trees reflected green with the sun light lined across the clear wall. Birds flew at the top of the block near the ceiling crop, they wanted to come in but were confused how to do so. Children came through the valley with lollipops and balloon powder and strings lined with meats, they were headed to the capitalistic circus, a wonder land that only brought guilt from lovers and their future children's shame.
Angelina stood outside the electronic moment to moment receivers. She was afraid of not being allowed entry. Everyone entering entered easily, but what of she? Would she be accepted? Clicking her unpainted fingernail atop her leopard print clip purse and what was worse she had no cash to get her orange Julius or perhaps see a film if she couldn't conjure of the courage to stop off at the salon. That was why she had come here, right?
"Where had the salon been?" Angelina said aloud.
The mass of the mall was vibrating with a ferocious congruity. Through the fog of meaty torso's lay blank and content faces. Gripping their wares, their steaming quick food, some of it dropping to their foot only to be kicked around on the dirtied floor. At times a rat would scurry from underneath a traveling underwear salesmen to grab a piece of fried bread, half cooked meat, or small pieces of children's hair which floated softly down to the wet and mud streaked floor. Mall cops waved their sticks to each other, some kind of HAIL or CHEER that they were the one's in charge round' these parts and there wasn't nothing no one was going to do about it.
"Do I really want to work here?"
There was no choice though. Angelina needed to pay the rent or her landlord/boyfriend would kick her out on the street and from there, she had no clue where the blue sky would take her. Her parents, both dead thirteen years ago, would be a terrible place to set up camp, especially in a graveyard. Angelina's brother lived over seas working at a ***** clinic trying and failing to heal the weak and unwanted. He had tried to heal her through voodoo practices he gathered up drunk through his 6 month stay in New Orleans but it had only given her a bright blue and red rash for three to four weeks. She never longer trusted her brother with any kind of healing or "feel better" techniques and was no prepared to make the trek to Europe anytime soon, she was in a relationship at the moment anyway and she had a feeling she might be in love.
Angelina stepped through the glass exchanging doors in unison with a family that was entering at the same time. The door seemed to open for any body but was tentative if it would accept hers, this time, it seemed to.
Inside she made her way up "the miracle marbled stairs" which shined bright and blinded Angelina in certain parts of her eyes. They flashed bright red and greens and whites so visciously and fast Angelina thought she might have some kind of seizure. She planted her feet directly on each step as she walked up the 20 to 30 stairs, going very slow and gripping the handrail. People started to gather around behind her shouting "HURRY UP LADY" and "WE DON"T GOT ALL DAY" and giggling to themselves.
"Were they not seeing these lights?" Angelina thought to herself.
"Do you kind people know where the nail salon is?"
Angelina then realized that what she had just said made no sense. Her eyes were gripped shut, her hand tight around the shiny gold handrail, her feet pointed strictly out like some kind of paralyzed summer penguin. The people which had gathered behind her stood bare, jaw slacked, wondering who would step forth to help this poor helpless creature.
A little girl with red sparkled shoes and a orange bow atop her head stepped forth. She smiled even though she knew Angelina had her eyes tightly shut, maybe she would feel the warmth? The girl's mother reached for her so not to get to close to that "crazy lady" but the little girl pulled away, her father saying "If it's her time to go, it's her time to go".
"Miss lady with the tiger purse, I think the hardware nail pull on is on the 8th floor next to the people that sell bread with meat sticks inside."
The little girl stepped gingerly back as Angelina loosened her grip on the now stained golden handrail. She shook her hair out and ran her fingers through it, straightening herself up as if she were about to perform a song or late night poetry reading. Angelina opened her eyes and peered down at the girl.
"Thank you little girl. What's the best way to get there?"
The girl child said nothing. She pointed to a large metal box shooting up and down the length that looked like a rocket straight to heaven. People were gathered all around its foundation, oooing and ahhhing at the sight of the one's which entered. There was a sign over the line of tubes reading "A Shot at the Void".
"A shot at the Void..." Angelina tentaively breathed to herself.
Angelina stepped up the last couple glittering stairs and made her way through the thick crowd of stale clothes, cheap tricks, obsessed teeny boppers, hardware for wear, shoes with no laces, strips of bacon hanging from mouths, lettuce all shredded, soda cans with their lids torn clean off with small splatters of blood lined on the rim, and a perfectly painted fingernail was drawn on the number eight where the long lines and rows of numbers were there to guide the one's to the shot.
"Number eight. Easy enough"
Angelina pushed the button.

---

Inside the tube there was a slow light hum of jazz transfusion and children breathing. There were three little daughters gripping their mother's hands as they bit into their soda pop straws, ******* up the soda inside the plastic and cardboard cups. All three children stared up at her, maybe wondering what she was wondering, which was exactly what Angelina was wondering, a combination of mistaken telepathy, an accident of consciousness that would be never be talked about between the four of them but most surely existed between them.

Smooth as clay they drifted up the translucent clear glass tube, shooting skyward like a man made rocket shot from a man made gun. They passed shops hocking wears of angelic colors: clear pearl pastels shone through the clear blue glass shining into Angelina's eyes forcing Her to squint, dog barks could be heard through the whistling air begging for treats of black and brown, teriyaki chicken strips and duck heads spun absurdly fast with a rhythm that resembled the wave of a crowd at a baseball game waving wildly like children flying from swings never wanting to land in the sand; all this as the three and one flew higher and higher and higher.

---

Ding.

---

Angelina stepped forward, leaving the three children behind Her to fend for themselves. From the looks of the button they had pushed they were headed East. She gripped her bag and peeled Her eyes, twisted her hair in a tight knot to show her aggression, her vigor, her confidence and stepped into the rabid salmon like crowd.

She saw no signs of the nail salon. She saw only posters of rabbits holding artichoke legs and nail guns firing rockets of ice cream and corn bread. These were the mirrors of the supposed revolution but had nothing to do with her nail salon, she needed the cash and she needed it NOW! How hard were the numbers to acquire? How long must she wait before the envelope is sent and the letter read and thrown out? How long Lord, how long?

Questions for a time when the pay checks were easy coming and Her man was by her side. She passed by a little boy playing William Tell with her sister. An apple on the little tots head and in the boys a small, tight and silver ray gun. The boy pulled the trigger but only a small plume of smoke came from the top making the boy ball over crying and wailing and kicking and screaming, nearly catching Angelina in the shin, what a mess...The little girl stayed still in Her spot though because her brother told her "Now don't move a cinch." Wise move my girl, wise move...

At last! Angelina, reaching Her destination saw the brightly neon colored corner of her beloved Nail Salon. The windows shone with pure red glitter, miniatures of poodles lapping up puddles of ice water, women laying out on the sun to catch rays from the Earth, and husbands shaving their backs all in a circle and row.

"How beautiful..." Angelina breathed out.

She entered the store front. Greeted from every corner were beautiful young cupid like angels faces shining divine but with no torsos, floating heads of angels ***** but crying and smiling. Asking Angelina "What would you like today miss?" or "What are you after?", beckoning for her requests, begging for her touch of vulnerability and lack of knowledge of where she was or what she needed.

"Just an application...I heard you all were hiring?"

"Hiring!!!?" the cupid heads screamed in unison.

"You want to become one of us?"

"Yes, part-time...?" Angelina said hesitantly.

As soon as the words "part" had been uttered from Angelina's wise and brave mouth the many heads of cupid began spinning and spinning around Angelina's body. Faster and faster they spun until Angelina herself was spinning with them, unified in a quadruple hurricane stripping her of her former self and slowly manipulating her body, her hair, her other self into her new self.

As Angelina's torso lay in the corner of the store un-bloodied, clothes tattered as well as some scratches  on her elbows from the toss, Angelina's head was floating in the perfect center of the other three hovering cupid heads.

"How beautiful...how beautiful...how beautiful."

"Isn't it?" the three cupid heads answered.

"Yes, everything here is so beautiful," the four of them whispered.

And as soon as Angelina had entered, she just as soon had left.

END
Fang Xuyokuna Oct 2014
You called me last night
The first time in what felt like weeks
I answered the phone
And all I could do was listen to your voice.

The subtelty in the way you talk
The inflection of every word
The changes in your speech patterns

You're feeling better now...

I'm sorry, what did you say?
It was so nice hearing you again
I just wanted to take in as much of you as I could

The only thing I didn't take in were your words
In all the scrambling in my head to remember your voice
I wasn't ready to piece together your syllables

By the time I was ready, you left me speechless
Your parting words are all I remember now...

"Goodnight, I love you. I'll talk to you later, bye"
It's been a long night and it's almost morning. I've played it back thousands of times, listening to the way you said I love you. Am I crazy or did you really mean it?
JL Jul 2012
I was always one for subtelty
but this was almost too easy
Click went the locking mechanism
Shattering the lock
Almost too easy
As behind me it silently shuts
Follow your scent
Through the sterile halls
A pin drop
Security gaurd Mag light
Down a quiet dark corridor
I cover my mouth with my hand
To cover the laughter as i hide
Almost too easy
I FIND IT
The door opens
This is almost surreal
I feal the cold
My breath is a cloud
So quickly in and out
Stiffling laughter
My wide begging eyes
Jessica
I shake with anticipation
The cold habdle beneath my skin
The bag
The frost
Unzip
white flesh
red hair
blue lips
purple veins
i am at a loss
for words
as i stand above you frozen
Still with you
I will die here
warmth on your translucent skin
was it my finger
Or that of another
that traced the outline of your black lips
or the frozen glaciers of your hip bones

Suddenly a light behind me
The gaurd screams stop
I laugh hysterically
i can no longer hold in my euphoria
No one will take you from me again
not even the stone hands of your step-father
i scream wide eyed
With resolution
and speed that surpised even me
My fingers curl about the handle of a scalpel
Left so carelessly out on the counter
By the morticians assistant
on his first day
a bullet rips me through my shoulder
but i fear no pain
i am no coward for you
no fear as i close in beneath the white flourescnent lights
No one will seperate us again
the warmth of the spray
black puddle against the tile so white
Your eyelids flutter
as i watch my final breath condense befoere my eyes
A cloud
my final breath
I fall asleep at your side
Eternal
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2017
alternative to what's expected, i.e. counter nocturnal musing.

i never noticed it, the subtelty,
   the milimetre's worth of
deviance from
a standard beer...
and there are as many
as one could wish for -
   the cheaper palette riddles,
not something akin
to *hoegaarden

or leffe, or an ale that might
give off a cheaky hint of
   grapefruit...
or the king of stout,
     boor mc guinness...
   iron tooth paddy mc guinness -
if ever a romance, then just about now.
  no, pils beer is subtle in its
deviation from your:
reg. pint eff lager...
    oi! flint-off! (remix, born slippy,
nuxx) -
       shouldn't it be dubbed
lagger... to not say it much bigger,
otherwise posh tosh and...
        sudden realisation:
    a minor point about an added -g-.
never mind...
   pils beer:
        it's as fresh as champagne,
quirky, summery,
        fresh, i'd say even more
carbonated, definitely less heavy
than your regular lager...

...it's only 20 to 5 and already a party...
and to think:
i laughed more, i cried more (
tears of joy, say, the sea waves splashing
  against the coast in Kenya,
voughan william's fantasia on the theme
of thomas tallis)
   by myself...
than with anyone else...
  ah... alas, not a theory akin
to solipsism but the beckoning,
pulverising hive like reality...
         not even confused or dreary
with a movie franchise
    we know everyone is citing...
saying only one truth
is better than attempting to say
too many "wise" observations...
   a simple version of the grander
"quest"...
talk of beer,
    and the accent of snow in the air,
a crow perched on a lamp-post,
the bountiful grey sky above essex...
  and how ***
can never really have the status
of a kiss
    in Cinema Memory...
       nope, this cinema is subtle,
i go to it how often i can,
   all i need is a few static things
and it just comes on with a most
pleasing movie...
   that movie:
a boy and girl meet in a crowded place:
a tool gig in glasgow...
they're giving out water and passing
it into the crowd,
boy gives girl water,
       boy puts his arms around
the girl and pushes the zombie
chant chant brigade aside,
girl breathers, girl drinks,
girl turns around,
   the music fill the otherwise necessary
dialogue...
boy and girl kiss...
     after the gig, girl waits for the boy...
boy sees girl...
     passes her by...
                    that's the zenith...
there's no butcher, no flesh-dough kneading...
   a standard investment in
Cinema Memory...
             nothing to boast about...
the music is still there...
       and a respect for memory,
to give it a cinema status...
     however could brick walls and wintry
shrubs be so entertaining anyway?
    why isn't *** all that memorable
(unless you paid for it with
a *******)?
             it's too mechanical,
there's nothing ethereal about it,
nothing to actually boast about,
    maybe that's why so many
people resort to filming it...
      it's so, so unmemorable...
   don't get me wrong:
          who am i to prescribe any
better release?
           but this is Cinema Memory,
and what's the most frail,
most butterfly like that gives
this cinema its movies...
    well: i say moments that extend
into forever...
          
...and that subtelty of a pilzner beer,
    light, unlike a Bud (too much
rice extract in that ******)...

...not as heavy as your stndard beer,
definitely more fizzy, tickly fizz.
My first mistake was thinking that someone could love me as much as I loved them
It seems that no matter how much you care or how much you're there it isn't enough
Ive come to the conclusion that my meaning in life is to make people happy until im not needed anymore
But I need to feel what its like to be needed

I'm always the strong one, but you can only be strong for so long before you begin to crack
Theres only so much weight I can bare on my back
You always seem to be judged by what you lack

I'd like to see you spend just one night in my mind
I can garuntee you won't be fine
Ive never felt so lost
The scars on my arms don't even begin to resemble the scars on my heart
Ive lost a part of me and im no longer who I used to be

Subtelty was never my specialty
and maybe if I was more subtle nobody would be able to see how broken I actually am

Part of me wants to let you go but part of me also wants to watch you grow
My heart is the anchor for your dreaded emotions because when he hurts you I hurt a little bit too
But the saddest part of all is through thick and thin I always have been and will always be there for you
Because I care for you with all my soul
and baby girl thats more than any of them can do
Ian Robinson Aug 2022
The strangest subtelty exists
in humans, solely for our hubris to
Ignore; For not to instigate
falling to this subtlety in fear.

Yet those vagrant "apostles"
Praise this subtlety, this alternative,
In absolute pride.
As if embracement, is a better-ment
of their corrupt soul, living as if it is natural.

Preaching fear as Evil, spinning their
woven ignorance as idealism.
Basking in the witching hour calls.

Not to be mistaken as holy, but wreathed in thorns on my brow, I reply:
Desperate.

— The End —