A. W. Street

Shapelessly, the ground arched its heavy dust into the Grey hues of an ominous sky. No song of any bird could pierce the heavy set silence.A stillness loomed over the leafless trees, the broken down houses of the town, the war like rubble on its streets, the glassless windows, grassless lawns. Our story starts here, in the desolate place of Heaven in its ruin, a pale shadow of its former glory, a starless silhouette of an unshaped thing. For on its windswept streets, barren in their simple defeat, life found root, a timid mumble, an indistinct whisper of life, took form out of a mouth so dry and wordless that even nature be perverted.

The street bared the name Alexandra Withershins, a most unpleasant corner of the world. The sullen houses stood gray and silent like the burdened statues of dead poets, their roofs flung to one side or the other. The trees were bent and twisted in peculiar angles and bizarre shapes, black monsters sticking their claws into the milky fog, for this town was a harbor once, but not anymore, for you see, since the fish started running away and the horses dying life ground to a halt.

Through the heavy mist a lighthouse would protrude, like a decayed dagger, a place of sorrow watching over an ocean of the same essence. It was to be the set piece of the guiding light of seamen … now a rusted ghost without any light or power. Its tortured shape would loom over the falling houses of Alexandra Withershins Street.

On its corner the most unimaginable thing did sprout from the lifeless soil…A timid little white flower. And by pure chance it came to rise at the feet of a young girl, her palms at her mouth as she noticed the miracle. Her name was Alice L. , And she lived there for as fare as she could recall. Alice was a girl of no common rate, witty and clever as a girl her age could ever be.

“I shall call you milkmaid.”Said she plucking the flower and placing it behind her ear.

Then with unbridled joy she ran up the quiet street and up to a house, which had a menacing looking tree growing out of its front walls.

“Curious thing you are, little milkmaid.”She said gently stroking the petals that were taking refuge into her hair that bore the smell of cherries.

“ I do wonder where did you find the courage to grow where all others would perish…But rest assured, Andy shall provide a suitable answer.”

She pushed the door and made her way through the maze of branches that filled the house. The smell of wetness was present and the lukewarm feel of decay played its tentacles over the walls and furniture. Alice with ease and care made her way into the kitchen where the pungent smell of mold met her delicate nostrils. It was as poor and as war-like as the rest of that town. Empty coverts, a rickety table with some horrid jars, some unwashed glasses and a plate soiled and chipped. From a dim corner came a hard breathing. And as she stepped foreword the shape of a man in a wheelchair came through the bluish gloom.
“There you are, Andy! You really startled me…”
The man in the wheelchair came forth and the pale light filtered through the dirt on the windows revealed a mockery of human nature…Andy was an old man with the face of a young child, only misshapen and wrinkled beyond comparison. His countenance deformed and twisted, with a crooked mouth, half opened, glossing from the saliva dripping from it. He was unfinished and half-born!
“Alice, what a delight…Care for some raspberry jam? Said he in a strange parental voice, although with a groan from his throat.”
“No, thank you…But nice of you, anyway.”
“Oh then probably you would like some cream tarts…I know you always enjoyed cream tarts…they must be here somewhere” he said looking with a dull eye over the empty coverts.
“Actually that is not the reason why I came her for…I wanted you to take a look at something…”And she took the little milkmaid from her cherry scented hair.
“Ah, I see you found a friend…How this small gift came to be I do not know…if that’s what your question be, young Alice.Our little Heaven hasn’t sprouted life in almost half a century…when the last horse was born.”
“You’re lying!”
“Indeed I am, young miss…”said the half-born in a dim smile.”It is alive for you and your joy, dear child.
“Considering I was expecting an answer like that, I shall believe you”Said Alice putting the flower back behind her ear.
“Oh…I almost forgot, have you seen those two?”
“If you mean do I know what mischief are they up to, I do not know.”
“Ah, boys will be boys…but if you do see them, tell them not to be late for dinner.”
“If I bump into them…”
“Ah, you should be more open minded Alice, besides Arthur had a shine for you since tender childhood.”
“Arthur had a liability from tender childhood,”said Alice more to herself.
“Right, I will do that Andy, do take care…”And she swept off leaving the gentle monster to his own thoughts.

The Grey hues of the sky extended their arms down on her footsteps .She was facing a courtyard in total abandonment .The wall that went around it was broken down and its brick insides were visible, like dried blood. Feral, dead, vegetation crowded the place, like a maze of small fingers grasping each other .A stone basin was in the middle of this all, water filling it to the brim.
Abusing your little brother again Arthur?”Said Alice in her usual sweet voice.
Two boys were at the foot of this basin, one kneeled over the other.”Charming Alice! A pleasure to see you…as…always…”said Arthur stressing his last words, like in some great effort.
“What are you doing there, Arthur?”
The young man stepped away from his brother in a calm fashion, grinning at Alice as he did.
Our young girls eyes were met with a most grizzly sight: About two dozen hefty bolts of iron were lodged in the boys body. He was bleeding and had a gruesome expression on his face. His eyes staring into nothingness, head lopsided…
“Do you enjoy modern art, sweet girl? Said Arthur pointing to his ‘creation’.
“Always had a fancy for the French painters…”sighed Alice
“I call it ‘The Innocence of a Doubtful Heart."

“I never had much love for modern art…”