Saturday, 9 May 2020

The Downward Spiral

The clean white slate of the canvas. This was kept on top of the dark walnut colored wooden table. Zooming out a little, the whole room came into the picture. A pristine dusty room with the smell of saw dust overflowing the mind. Zoning back into the white slate, the perception cleared further and some golden saw dust pores visible in the whiteness. As if the dust was settling in on that clean sheet..... gradually increasing in number.

A mini-verse of saw dust stars glowing over the whiteness. Concentrating on the one off-centered speck of golden. The speck stretching till it seeped out darkness. Slowly and steadily, it overpowered the whiteness encircling the stars around. T'was as of, pulling the stars from their high ground to the depths. In the beginning, it was a very slow pull to the off-centered space where the first speck once existed. The other stars frenetic on their inevitable gravity of the situation.The horror of the abyss frightening the golden specks as they twinkled probably their last?

The canvas, at this point, was almost half-filled with the tendril like blackness which was expanding slowly from the original speck that once was. Some tendrils lashing out at the nearby golden specks ensnaring the little specks and pulling them to their mysterious end? The possible cries of the ones closer to the epicenter already echoing the silence of the pristine old room.

Some of the specks tried their best to run away from their apparent death. In the end, their push was weaker than the abyss's pull as they circled to their centered deaths? More and more of them kept revolting but closing in still to the dead zone. The swirl forming from the constant push and pull. The golden streaks of the swirl in the blackness which now had almost encompassed the white sheet. The tendrils of this abyssal creature. It wanted everything to just be encompassed and merged into itself than anything else. The desperation made the tendrils, now, to lash out at the thin air. Coming out of the canvas, it caught more of the golden saw dust hanging in the air to consume for its wrathful appetite. Now, the blackness started to cover the very air around the table. It had already crept up the majority of the table in search for the specks hiding under the shadows. The lashing and snatching behavior of this tentacled abomination was increasing in intensity uncontrollably.

Gradually, the tables, chairs, cupboards, art essentials, everything around, was encroached upon and consumed. It ultimately filled up the whole room, closed in the space with a hunger so great, there was nothing seemingly left to consume. While also, the ones being consumed were still constantly trying to spiral out of its control but couldn't. The golden streaks with the multitude of particles crying for their lives.

The consumption of the souls of those particles was never-ending but it wanted more than it received. It seemed like this abyssal creature itself was in pain of hunger and its shriek resounded the silence. The spiral of the golden specks' souls increased and increased and increased till it just couldn't handle the excess it was suddenly receiving.

In the calmness, a loud pop was heard as the creature felt its life straining from the excess as it gradually shortened in size till it was nothing more than a speck. The spiral swirl from the multitude of golden specks now no more falling downward to it.

© Aditya Subramanian, 2020

No comments:

Post a Comment