Billiot and the Nature of Things

It was a nice autumn day when Billiot decided to go for a walk just outside his merry little village. “Billiot! Billiot!” Billiot heard the voice. It sounded like Old Man Creggers. Billiot rushed over and saw Old Man Creggers. “Billiot! You must get help!” Billiot saw Old Man Creggers, his legs were underneath a chopped-down tree. “Please.”

“Oh, golly gee,” Billiot responded and he hurried off to the village.

“Father. Father!” Billiot’s father was half-asleep on their couch. “Papa! Old Man Creggers is trapped by a fallen tree. He needs our help!”

But Billiot’s father didn’t answer, his eyes crusted and glazed. But not like a scrumptious bakery treat. “Father?”

“Son…” he finally replied to his son’s pleas, “What time is it…” and then he slipped off to sleep. Billiot ran out the door and back onto the street. He ran over to Stevie’s house. Stevie was the strongest man in the entire village, even stronger than his dad.

“Stevie! You must come quick! Old Man Creggers is being crushed by nature!”

“Ah,” Stevie responded.

Old Man Creggers watched as Billiot returned, followed by Stevie who was walking at a much slower pace due to the magnitude of his muscles. “Don’t worry,” Billiot said with a grin, “Stevie will launch that tree off you like it’s a twig!”

“Oh goodie,” Old Man Creggers liked the sound of that.

Finally, Stevie made it. “Ah, looks like nature has done it again! Ho-ho!” Stevie gripped the sides of the trunk and squeezed. “Sorry, mate, but this tree is too strong for me. Time to go.”

“Wait, what?”

But Stevie walked back to the village to toss some large rocks around.

“Oh, golly gee…” Billiot said.

“Billiot…” The old man’s voice was starting to fade. “Don’t worry, I had a good life. I had cut down trees for the people in the village. Now it’s time for me to die and meet my family in the sky village above…”

And with that Billiot watched the old man die. He sat down. His eyes didn’t leave the lifeless body for a good while. And then he looked at the downed tree, saw the little ants squirming in the crevices of bark. The sun lowered and the air turned pink. And Billiot turned towards the dark shapes of the village and went home quietly.


Written for Stream of Consciousness Saturday.

Portrait

He searches through the ruins. A couple of years ago, these were houses and factories. Now mostly glass beneath his boots and rebar reaching outward. Some structures still stand. And sometimes within, he finds toys, trinkets, portraits. Things once painted with meaning, now huddled with empty.


Written for #vsspic on Twitter.

A Truth

I thought I’d survive without you
and I was right. I survived past
many partners, many children,
many streets, many names.

Even the sun will unfurl
into mist, but I will
float on still, beyond the grasp
of dust. For now I am earthed
trying to recall your face.

Written for #FromOneLine on Twitter.