Nella wants to tie people to the floor. Not everyone. Just those with hair like piles of snow. Their old translucent skin so often resplendent in brown patches. The crimson dry swatches remind her of autumn. You see, dear Nella believes the very elderly are cosmically linked. She wants to bind them together then take a blue, fat-tipped Sharpie and connect their age spots. A star map, a map to God. She has a vision and she knows. No one else does. Old bodies are closer to the heavens each day. H.G. Wells, Nella’s favorite ink thinker, wrote on time travel. Time and star travel are inextricably linked. H.G. came to her in a dream. They were making love in the crescent cup of the moon when H.G. whispered in Nella’s ear.
Easter Island in the Pacific holds magic in giant moai brains. Those monumental figures are not really empty. No one is empty though Nella feels empty a lot. Her head hurts all the time and she doesn’t know why. All she sees anymore are the invisible stars on wrinkled skin. The other night when she was walking home from the Quik Mart with her dollar coffee and coconut macaroons there was an elderly couple shuffling ahead of her. The gentleman was holding not his lady’s tiny sharp elbow, but the tiniest Pomeranian Nella had ever seen. It wasn’t the insignificant creature keeping her attention. It was glow. The hobbling couple were glowing away from the moon’s reach. The twinkling normally left for the glass fragments in the grimy sidewalks paled near their slow shuffling shoes.
Nella thought about pulling her belt off and tying these two elderly walkers up, but she feared her pants would fall down then the tiny Pomeranian would bite her bare ass. Besides, she was not prepared. She was having trouble locating blue Sharpie markers. The Quik Mart worker said they expected some blue Sharpies in tomorrow. Nella was a bit dubious about this. The young man behind the counter did nothing but stare at her breasts. There were no stars on her skin. She thought she forgot to wear a bra.
So Nella walked up seven flights to her apartment where she sipped her coffee, ate her macaroons and danced by herself while singing, So Alive. She tossed her long brown hair and smiled thinking about star maps. She needed the star map. Without directions, she’d never be able to talk to God and find out why people die. She knew he was providing clues for her to find. The endless headaches reminded her to get to work whenever she was feeling lazy. Her head was not empty. It was full of ropes and bright lights. She chomped the last macaroon then leaned out her apartment window. Down below, so many twinkling lights. So many people to tie together.
art created many years ago, acrylic on board – thank you