This book is about the world of Freud, and the inner workings that drew him into a man of great authority within a universe he gave birth to. You can get it here, and use the code RJ36R to read it for free until January. These are the first few pages. Part One: Chapter One “He is hungry,” Amalia moved into the corner of their one room house. “It will only take a minute,” she called to her husband as he pulled the wool into one long thread and twirled it around his finger, watching her take out her breast. “I assume he is going to become just like me.” He smiled as he watched his wife glow into a rosy pink and he watched the water’s of divinity fall upon her eyes and into her heart as she reached into her soul and brought him the million versions of life as flesh and blood. “Do you ever think of the clothes that wool creates?” “Who needs a different face? I am happy with just the same overcoat everyday and my brown pants. You know the people who buy this wool? No one knows them! They are the people who take the backdoor exits. There is nothing in a fine suite unless you want to be buried in it, and I think I have gone to enough funerals these past two years for my entire life.” He thought of his father and the grave faces of his brother. They came through him the nights that followed when he was alone with only the pain again, the aching in his chest that never went away. Like a hole in his pants, it slowly un-weaved itself the more he moved, exposing bare skin. “He is watching over us.” Amalia read her husband’s thoughts and looked for that secret thought of love that she always inspired. “I was talking about my ex-wife,” he playfully tossed her a smile. “Well, don’t laugh about the dead. They can come back and haunt you.” She was knocking over his picture frames to reach the end of a very long puzzle. He walked over and sat beside her and Sigi. “Thank goodness for my little Sigi. I never thought I was going have any more children. He is a sign of things to come.” And he looked towards the beginning of time, and he reached towards the unknown, unaware that he wasn’t reaching, he was taking. “He knows it too,” she said sitting him on his lap. “Look at his profile. He is already handsome.” “I am too old to sit,” he said, glancing at the stains of water from the roof as he bent down. “My back will kill me when I get up.” “Don’t be shy,” she said, placing Sigi on his lap. “He likes you.” And she heard his giggles like a mother heard the water running. “I hope he will be like my other two sons. They all have a strong worth ethic and nice hard backs.” “No, Sigi is going to be special. I can feel it.” “Sigi did you hear that, you are already your momma’s favorite. What are we going to do to separate the two of you?” “Well,” she said with a knowing look. “I am sure he will leave me one day. Go and dye the wool. How else are we going to eat tonight?” She nudged him upright. “Men, they would eat their shoe without a woman.” “Come on Sigi, help me wrap this wool. Crawl to me.” He said looking at his wife. “I think he likes me better.” “All my boys love their mothers,” he said. “I know that’s why I am glad to be a mother.” And for the first time in Amalia’s life she felt complete, as if all the pain of being a woman had been worth it; a person who needed her more than anyone else, and who would care and reach and love the missing person she had become. He smirked as he put another spool down. “Well that makes two of us.” His brown hands smudged around the white table cloth that everything was stacked on. From the corner of his eye he saw his life pass him by and he was sitting in darkness. As an old salesman he didn’t care much to think about consequences of objects. It was their possibilities that he talked about. Everything else belonged in the overlooking gray floors that were above him and below him, in levels. “Amalia do you plan on helping me?” He thought he saw her get up as he watched her bare feet dance on the wooden floor. Her body slid behind his and they were the muscles underneath the skin. +++ Amalia held her second child to her breast as she watched Sigi crawl. She had named him after her brother, who died a few years ago at the early age of 20, Julius. She watched him latch hold of her nipple as he closed his eyes. Sigi watched with big black eyes. “Baby Julius,” she said. She rocked him in her lap. “You are a miracle,” she said softly, watching the moon wade behind a cloud. The world came up to her head and it rose up over her mouth and deep down into her throat. “I know you will be a wonderful big brother,” she said to Sigi. He watched them in curiosity and envy, like a child watching the ants crawling from tree roots. “Don’t you think so Julius?” she said stirring him up. “He said yes,” she said with a mother’s smile. She took out her handkerchief heart and blotted the sweet off her forehead. She was in the middle of life. She felt the shifting current beneath her belly as she floated towards the shore. “Don’t worry,” she called to herself in silent breathes. “There will always be an edge to everything within reason.” Her gut fell and she knew something was wrong. “Julius,” she called, as she looked up to see Sigi crying. “Julius,” she screamed, as she realized his face had turned blue. Rivers of water reached her fingertips as she grabbed him into her stomach. Her layers of flesh surrounded him like a mountain. “Julius!” she screamed as she breathed life into his brain where the darkest purple remained. “Don’t leave me.” Her brother’s ghost was sitting beside her as the sky caved in. “Julius?” she asked. She was floating up through the roof where a hand was holding her. It was so small it fit inside her hand and feathers wrapped around her. “Don’t let me go,” she screamed as the moment evaded and her body sank. “I just need more time.” Life snapped close, and she was sitting in the middle of the floor alone. Julius was gone. +++ The dark days invaded after that. It was hard to say what day or month it was. Time tied itself to the clouds and covered over all the faces that passed through. All that remained was the horizon that segmented the moving sun into moths and worms. Throw the timer on and kick a ball to create a sensation of understanding life, even after the tide sweltered and everything was wiped away from the grains of nature back into the depth of pressure and catalysis. +++ Amalia looked into the empty pots and the bread as she imagined her life and the life she thought she would have. It was like looking into two faces, one with her eyes and another with her mother’s features. She felt like she could cut herself in half. One part of her was the fears; the other half of her was the ground that became deeper with the thriving rapids of heart ache. Each side of her ran through itself. She was constantly reforming in every moment into another person, until all her hearts ran together to create the beat of rain. Even as a young girl she knew her life was going to be rigged with challenges like a shaky bridge. She knew there were going to be moments when her fingers were barely holding on. She saw it coming when her mother raised her and when she fell in love with Jacob, who was twenty years older than her. To her life was like being caught in a snow storm. It came with kind words and beautiful gestures, but it felt like freezing. It was this side of life that could not be stomached without a tough skin and a cynical mind. Her personality grew like a thorn up around a rose as her face tightened and her skin formed around her nerves. She was going to survive nature and she didn’t need anyone else to lean on, but her own ability to run from the sky. She felt her stomach as she realized in a brief thought that she might become pregnant again. It was a strange feeling like lighting in the black night that illuminated the land. It was the land that she had so hoped was there when all she had was faith. She touched the softest skin under her breast and she felt through the fat towards her family, towards her home. Hope darted up through her toes as if she was a tree on fire, and it reached the tips of her hair as she became yellow and orange with life. +++ Amalia was in bed and Jacob watched her like an eagle in the sky, descending towards her nest between branches. “There are eggs,” her eyes said as she closed her legs and glanced towards the burning flame. “I am tired,” Jacob said. He rubbed his temples and sat down in a thunk on the edge of her thick waters, thinking of the tide that was going to bring him back. “I know,” she said sadly to herself and the world tossed and turned another child from his mother’s arms, and it cried softly. “There are so many responsibilities in being old.” He let the word old sink in as he toyed with the o like smoke rings from his lips, and the circle broke. “I never saw you as old,” she said. “It was my fault he died. I had been preoccupied with Sigi.” If she could, she would have taken his fingers as her own and used them to wipe away the memories. “It wasn’t your fault. If I was there I could have saved him.” “It must be a heavy world when a father has death and life on his shoulders,” she said sarcastically. “I have multiple universes,” he said to her ears as he lowered himself into her eyes. “Don’t you wonder what our life would be like if we had many children?” She fixed the crooked image with kindness and was ready to let it hang still against their walls. “I never think about that,” he said stroking her arm. “I wonder when I am older if you will still love me.” And the words were too dull to cut and she wondered if she would still love herself. “Of course, I will always love you,” she said with a candy tongue. “Don’t shew away your problems.” “Sometimes I think all this bad luck is God telling me something.” His words were monotone as his thoughts rehearsed the promises of being human, and they rang like a ritual in church in front of machine printed lives. “What would he have to tell you?” “That people like us don’t deserve to be happy.” He saw everyone he ever knew, and none of them were happy. “You know, God doesn’t send messages like that.” He watched the ceiling. “How do you know?” Innocently he searched God’s eyes. “I don’t,” she said and sighed. “I guess there are things in life that I don’t understand.” He kissed her fingers, feeling as if he had gotten her to admit to something of importance. It was these moments when he found her beautiful. “I understand everything about you.” Your locked door and your secret entry ways. “I am quiet complicated,” she smirked. She thought of herself as broken. “I can guess what you are thinking,” he said as he placed his fingers between her legs and touched her heart that wore flesh. She kissed his forehead, “You were never a very good listener.” She blew out the light. https://smashwords/books/view/494732
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 07:07:31 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015