Five Years
by William Kingsley


                                                 Alex Lowe

I had to see.

Outside, in the alley, decay and silence.  Inside, a broken glowing. 


A song eats the silence. 

In shadow and indistinct.  Like no one is there.  A voice, an acoustic guitar.  Quiet, intense.  A  spotlight glows, grows.  A bass, drums, electric guitar.  Faster and faster, loud and louder and bent, the music crashed and crashing.  Then light.  Blinding white light.  Sparkle captivates me.  A blur of sound and vision.  

A black silhouette in white light his song hypnotic.  Faster, fancy, trembling, he sings of fire of fate of love falling. He fascinates  Faster, fancy, trembling. He sings of fire of fate of love falling.  His animal grace.   

He sings.

He sings to us all.

 He sings to me alone.

The coming.  He sings.  The end of days.  Hopes and dreams.  See these eyes so.   Pain.  He sees.  Five years.  Darkness and Decay.

The music crashes to a halt on a  jarring power chord .  Ear-ringing silence, and wordlessly, he's gone.


 Slowly, like a spell has lifted.

A trance is broken

 A murmur of voices.  People numbly file to the exit. 

I move for the first time in hours and I breathe.


Outside, a joint and a line.  A Glitter Girl takes my joint, in silence, inhales, and offers a handful of 1C0837.  I take them and swallow them.  We stare don't talk.  She looks drained and lost like I do.

 Music clashing and hard beckons. Silent  obedient we go.    

He plays.  He plays all night, all night long.  And the pills hit me, freezing my brain.  And I dance staggered and pale with the Glitter Girl.  We madness she and I.  I press you into me.  You're just a pretty girl with grey eyes.

And slowly, subtly, the music changes.  The tempo. The mood.  The message.  A Prophesy, another Future Song.  Before heaven and earth in the silence and the void, alone and unchanging and in motion.  And times they are a changing and entropy running free.  The voice he crashes all future mayhem and madness.  Cold, grey music.  Harsh entropy sound.  Future Song devastation the world failing, falling apart.  Sweet thing.  Darkness and dismay.  Any day now.

Glitter Girl we dance.  Dirty I love you I'm graphically yours.  Eat love 1C0837.  I'm in tears again.  And again and again.  Glitter Girl.

He says

-Night is years.  The future has died.

The stage goes black..

Emptiness sounds.

The crowd like corpses.  File out.  Pain silent.

I walk with the Glitter Girl.  It's safe in the City.  The streetlight glare colour lights up your face.  The dawn makes love devious.  I know your flame.  You tremble like a flower.  Never mind say something.  Love in the doorway.  Little girl lost in the dance.  I tumble and fall.  Glitter Girl.


One officer approaches, the other asleep at the wheel, SUV still running.   Female seen entered.  Elevated reading: no offence: the man had worked steadily.


Any day now


The  fog that lays around the world.  The hate that lays around the world.  The growing storm.  We are all captives in different rooms.

Things fell apart slowly.  There was no center of things left to hold.


The days fall on their knees


Saviour save our souls.




There is no middle.


My Glitter Girl was beautiful; she shined bright light.  My Glitter Girl was white heat.  My Glitter Girl died in the Food Void dust and roses.



Years later, right at the end,  I saw you on the train from Postsdamer Platz.  You were different, but the same.  I asked the conductor he told me your name was Mr. Jones.  You in an overcoat and wide-brimmed hat.  You looked out at the dark broken land.  I was staring, and I turned away, but even still I could feel your light and I could hear your voice and your song, and I remembered One Night Only and  I remembered the years with my Glitter Girl and I mourned the Glitter Girl, and then I felt a roaring silence, a bending sound, and my ears popped and the train went faster and faster and around and around and everything was a  blur and the train lifted  from the tracks and sped high  high up into the darkened sky and I looked at you and you were golden and glowing.

And right at the end, right at the end of it all, right before the stars came crashing down, I knew what you tried to say all those years ago and what you tried to do and I should have said something.  And as the world rippled and ripped and dissolved, and as everything went faster and faster and round and round and swirled and emptied and I was pulled and twisted and you went away I wanted to say something, and I wanted to say and what no one would ever say is Stay.  Stay this time.  I really meant to so badly this time.

       William Kingsley lives in Ontario, Canada.