Picture entitled: Dark Angel Rising © by John D. Stanton 2006 www.3AMBlue.com.
Cull
By Carol Reid © 2007
The vessel, empty again, awoke in the cool water. Sunlight crept across the rough sand spit, pushing back the shadow where the first body lay. From knee to upper chest the body was dressed in bright cloth that sparkled in the wash of light. The face was all open, eyes and mouth open, lips colored with foam. Its soul waited, silent and still.
The vessel widened its scope. A vehicle idled on the dirt road above the lake. Finally it sputtered and stopped. Both doors were wide open. The second body, unclothed, hunched over the steering wheel, dripped blood and brain matter onto the floorboards. This one was unclothed, thin, but hard-muscled. Its soul waited too, but not as silently.
The vessel would consider everything in its ruminations, although the plain fact of which had been first to die was only an accident of time.
The pistol and the bottle of tainted wine both lay on the soiled leather bench seat. The vessel rested, resisting haste. The task required diligence and observant care. The vessel scanned the vehicle, unmindful of the sporadic thrum that colored the brightening sky.
Dark clothing was heaped on the vehicle's rear set. Why had this body removed its covering, while the other remained clothed? Trust? Presumption of power? This race of mixed flesh and spirit was often a conundrum and mistakes had often been made.
The vessel retuned to the body at the water's edge. It lay on its right side, head resting on its arms, its open face mirrored on the glassy surface of the water. Front and back, its fine clothing was free of sand and grit.
Millennia ago, the vessel would have focused on a search for guilt, malleability or thirst for justice in its choice of soul to be borne away in preparation for rebirth. Centuries ago, the vessel would have been drawn to the naked body's rough, bright, needful energy.
No longer.
The vessel felt the warm pleasure of decision and allowed the quiet soul to wash into its cavities. Engorged, the vessel slept, and with the lapping tide, was borne away.
END
