Tsuchinoko’s Wife, Part II

A slight shift in tone here- hopefully it works? Enjoy.

Tsuchinoko’s Wife, Part II

In the days that followed, June scraped the house clean of snakeskin, removed paralyzed mice from the fridge (Tsuchinoko’s favourite snack, after pork scratchings) and turned the heating down to an acceptable level. She wore dresses without fang holes and shattered empty beer bottles with a hammer in the back garden. When she was done she would squat in the long grass, watching the worms and beetles scrape tiny limbs across the broken glass. Their blood was dark like the tears of Tsuchinoko, and she wondered where he was. When a party of minotaurs arrived, asking if Tsuchinoko was going to come out, she swiftly shut the door in their faces, peering through lace curtains as their ringed noses rutted at the letterbox, calling her name. She began to dream in shades of crimson-aubergine.

And then, months later, the growl of a motorbike engine outside.

“I just came for my stuff,” Tsuchinoko said, slipping out of a studded leather cape. “Don’t let me bother you.” As he stepped past her into the house, his scales brushed softly against her skin. Gossamer flakes of skin drifted to the floor, briefly luminous before they hit the frigid carpet. June followed him up to their old room and watched him throw his belongings onto a heap on the bed. His yellow eyes turned to her, the double lids flickering uncertainly. She reached out to him.

“Where did you go? After I…?”

“I, uh, worked in Houssten, for NASSA, you know. Top ssecret.”

“Really?”

“Well, uh, no. I wass cage fighting in Nicaragua.”

“I thought you’d be busy managing the Rolling Stones.” They both laughed.

TO BE CONTINUED (Cue dramatic music, groans as people realise they've spent 7 pounds on a half-finished film and 8 pounds on inferior snack foods)

Kirsty Judge : 15 May 2011 15:55 |  Comments (2) |  Report a problem