They say children play out their anxieties. For example, psychologists tell us not to be surprised to see children exposed to the violence in Newtown playing out the scenario. Re-enacting it. Maybe certain pop culture phenomena are our adult way of doing the same. It seems we have a need to envision and play out the end of the world. There’ve been many popular apocalyptic cults, of course, but our larger society also has its Y2K’s and its Mayan calendars. We have our zombie apocalypses and our asteroid armageddons.
A gentle pinging woke me up. I was surrounded by linen and warm, hard skin. Sebastian was a great mass in the bed next to me. Black being “slimming” was an understatement; he was every bit as muscular as Paulos, only on a lithe frame that gave an impression of leanness under the black. In sleep, roles changed and he held me in the crook of his arm.
I understand now why Christmas arrives in the stores sometimes even before Halloween has departed. It is a desperate attempt by the retailers to slow down Christmas’s approach, an effort to pile up a steep bank of days for the snowplow of the holiday season to barrel into.
The angel’s black eyes fixed on me. “Interesting,” was all it said before turning to Dion. “Playing with your toys again, Dionysian Apollonian?” Dion was uncharacteristically quiet. He let the salvo pass. Mentally I dubbed the octopus headed angel “Octo.”
I sat up, scrabbling at whatever was covering my head. The more I touched it the more ominous it felt; plastic studded with thick wires that ran off... someplace. My limbs were barely responsive and throbbing with pain.