Johannes Punkt’s Flaskpost

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Tag: thunderstorms

Something That Never Happened

The two of us could not have been more alike; I always followed her footsteps. I thought I felt the same pain as she did. She cast the words from her soul, branded them on the skins of her strangers; I breathed fire and did the same. I was never more than a year behind. She travelled without shoes or socks, I calloused my feet and let the wind show where I should go. She stood on a hill and talked to thunderstorms, I could only shout at open skies with no response. Now she’s happy, and I’m not dead.


Once upon a time, a man fell in love with a dead woman. She died in front of him every night and became more and more beautiful. One morning, after a storm, he made his way to the damp alley where she lay, mouth open, face gone. He found her behind a trash can and he cried. She had not got to her feet and walked away like an angel.

The city was besieged. It rained fire and black death. The man stayed with the dead woman, his obsession. And she took one last breath, and her soul possessed him.

Nightmare Fuel October 2012, Day 17

Image courtesy of Pat Kight on Google+

The safest place on Earth. Strawhat Nick said that wearing thick gloves and pounding the walls of the red barn like it would stand there forever. I hid there in thunderstorms on the upper floor and tried to calm down the cattle, whispering to them that we’re in the safest place on Earth. Well structured, uninteresting, with lots of hay to live on and lightning conuctors along the sides so we’re untouchable.

I cannot get the images out of my head now; their giant cow pupils shrinking, their jaws opening to moo without getting any sound out, their legs dangling.


There was a crack of thunder and then the rain stopped. That was the wrong way around, I thought, rain should start after the thundercrack.

There was a low hum and then the slits and gaps in the boards glowed. I felt like I was sinking, but upwards, and my breath hitched. For a moment I was weightless. I held onto something.

Tufts of hay fell past me, ceilingwards.

The ceiling was dismantled with ease and the boards laid neatly down outside. The cows were carried up, slowly turning, utterly silent and terrified. Only I could scream and I did.