I was walking in the forest when I came across a large, house. The house was painted a dark grey, it reminded me of the chunk of metal floating in the air I called home. The windows were small and the shutters were closed, which also reminded me of my space home because if the windows were open we all would’ve died. From inside the house I heard the sound of a recorder, which also reminded me of home because it reminded me of the screams of innocent people starving to death. I was drawn inside by the alluring memories of my home in the comfortable vacuum of space.
I walked in the unlocked door, which creaked like floorboard I stuffed my sister in. There sitting in the middle of one room home, was a strapping young lad who’s music swayed me. A recorder was pressed to his steamy chapped lips. The sweet sound stopped as the eye blinding neon green orbed man looked at me. His chapped lips separated from one another, he opened his mouth and says. “Who to fuck are you mate?”
“I am Bellamy Blake, and the pleasuring sound of your music stick charmed me from a 3 mile radius,” I responded.
“Oh,” he said, rolling those green orbs, “Would you like to stay here with me? I can teach you how to play the music stick and make you some tree bark tea?”
“I would love to spend more time in this dark shady shack with you, my love. I cannot call you my love forever... what is your name?” I asked him, with tears in my eyes from staring at his beauty.
“What’s wrong with calling me your love forever?” he winked.
I walked closer to him and he grabbed me by the side. He pulled me close so our faces almost touched. “I’m Mon-El,” he said, “Mon-El of Daxam.”
I looked him in his bright green orbs, “A beautiful name for a stunning fellow,” I said.
Mon-El winked again. He took my heart once but now for a second time. I was saddened that one of his orbs were hidden behind his smooth white eyelid. I smiled, and attempted to wink back, but as I had never done such an odd thing, closed both eyes. Mon-El laughed, running a hand through my thick curly brown curls and looked at my blue orbs with his green ones. “Bellamy, babe, only one eye. I still want to see one of those comets, dear.”
He walks me over to his old, dusty, rusty stove. He sets a fire in the bottom, I ask him, “What is that glowing hot thing?”
“Me, darling. I’m the hottest thing you’ll ever see” he responded.
“You sure are, Papi,” I exclaimed.
“I still have bark from yesterday’s scalding kettle of my tea, I can use that to make our batch. This batch will be better than yesterday’s because you’re here to drink up with me,“ he said.
As soon as I know it the tea is done. I sip some out of the shoe Mon-El served it in. It smells like him and his warm odorous breath.
“I wish to be sipping a different warm substance you make.” I said.
“You want some of my leaf stew?” he asks.
“Sure, baby. You’re like the woman I always dreamed of marrying and forcing into the kitchen like every women should be.” I answered.
“Thanks. Where I’m from, that is the nicest thing a man can say to his property.” he gleefully said.
He looked at my blue orbs, and crawled over the wooden table. He now had splinters in his chest but he didn’t care. Next thing he did was attach our lips to one another. I could taste the tree bark on his lips, it’s warm and comforting just like fire I used to kill 300 innocent people.
As we make out in Mon-El’s steamy shack, our tea grew cold. Long forgotten, unlike our love.
