Monthly Archives: April 2024

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A tiny fist pump through the soil was how it began.

They had buried so many dead babies that they realised  they no longer had the time for ceremony or any kind of enclosure had hit them hard as the babies could escape.

Life was precious,so we had babies,lots of them,but we didn’t have enough food to feed them,so most died.The mothers and fathers were healthy enough,you got coupons for being pregnant,you could have the best of everything or so it felt.

Now that the babies had started resurrecting ,the people were not so sure.

Resurrection had not been part of  the plan.The aim  was to keep the population happy with sex and drugs and the freedom to do what they wanted.It had worked for centuries.

The government, with the problem, emerging literally in front of their eyes, had tried to bulldoze the situation. It had brought diggers in to destroy existing burial grounds and what was left of the corpses.

They had no idea what was causing it,but in fact, by churning up the soil, they had enabled somehow the process of reviving the ” Life ” in those tiny bodies. So the problem became out of control.

Some argued that this was very positive and that any life was good.Others that the fear and dread that the armies of babes were causing was causing concern and that the fact that they could not be killed  meant that like rats they would be an ever present problem.

No one liked to see them when they appeared.They stole,they chased people down the street, and they took over towns and villages as no one could bear  living  near them.

The Babes  could not move very fast,but there was such a lot of them when they marched together ,they were intimidating and  also you could not destroy them.

Initially, after protests and complaints from the public .The government had used  military operations to kill them.

However,it took the authorities  a while to realise that death was not the answer as all the carnage imposed on the Babes could not kill them but had only injured  them  and made them appear as monsters.Some were so badly disfigured that it was painful to look at them.The Babes of course felt no pain.

Slowly,the Babes were taking over the country, and eventually, it would be the world.

Government policy was changed, and people were no longer encouraged to have big families .

The effort was put into ensuring that new babies were nutured and survived into adulthood to reduce the number of Babes.At the same time, the scientists began researching  the elements that brought about the resurrection of the babes. However,the results were kept secret as everyone knew that an elixir of life would bring a whole new set of problems.

The Babes that  live to this day are ever present and will be with us forever.

I first met Oscar Wilde about a year before he was released from Reading Gaol. He was thin and had pustules on the skin of his face and bad breath.We had many conversations over that  year and I watched on the day of his release as he was hurried away in a coach and horses organised by his supporters and  friends that did not desert him and hoped to help him recover

Even in those evil  days,there were good people who believed in prison reform.I was a member of such a group, and that is how I  met Oscar.

Due to his kind and personable nature and I believe the intervention of an assistant governor who was  empathetic to Oscar’s predicamemt. I believe he had the same proclivities as dear Oscar,although hid it ver well.Oscar,  had been given certain privileges having suffered  the indignities of a horrendous  first few months of picking twine and the thing that was notoriously called the hamster wheel.Initially it was felt an example should be seen to be made.

Within a few months,however,he was given pen and paper,and a chance to have visitors.This unfortunately did not extend to providing health care,which in truth Oscar needed.However,I was allowed to bring some relief by supplying him with “drops” which I believe eased his aches and pains ,though it was obvious by then,Oscar’s health was deteriorating but the “drops” eased his pain.

One thing Oscar did was talk,and we talked and talked about every subject under the sun. I didn’t so much fall in love with the man ,but with his intellect.He was in love with everyone and everything he saw through falsehood and had passions for beauty that I could only imagine.He loved and his passion for loving rubbed off on me.

Oh my, as an aside, that sounds quite rude and made me blush,but we did not have that sort of relationship,and sitting now in my comfortable armchair, I can only regret we did not. Oscar loved in all ways.

But I must calm myself.I am  not progressing my story of The River Chimera.For  Oscar was indeed a mystical man,his story of Dorian Gray had a profound effect on me, and I told him so,many times,and he argued that it was a story a fiction. His strength of feeling was such ,I knew there was more to the story than he would admit.

The last time I saw Oscar was in a bar at Calais,his pustules were covered in heavy theatrical make-up, and his eyes  were outlined in red and looked deep set within their sockets.He did not look long for this World.

Oscar wanted money from me, and I was more than happy to give it to him.I had known the man, and he was a good man.If I could help, I would.

The Oscar I had known was not the man sitting in front of me blustering and guffawing .There was  no longer any connection between us ,his brain purely sought material means,there was no joy or happiness.It was mechanical.I was a means to an end.In truth, his brain had gone,destroyed by syphilis.

Dorian Gray ,though, stuck in my mind. It was a picture on my living room wall that made me think again of the story. At first, it seemed harmless, it was a view of a river.

However,when I sat in my chair and looked in the mirror;the picture was reflected back at me.It was then I noticed the subtle changes in the picture,as the winter night continued.

The river in reflection, showed  various images of chimaera,both animal and human.Horrible creatures that stared at me and beckoned me into their worlds.I could not help but stare back  at them. Some looked like dragons,some like staring eyes of men or gigantic slugs with wings.

Yet I would look back at the picture, and it contained only the attractive  scenic view of the river.What the mirror reflected, I will never know or be able to question why these apparitions appeared.I would if Oscar had still been alive and at the height of his powers have asked him.

The images disturb me ,yet I keep the mirror and will not move the painting.Oscar faced his fears, and I also will do so…..