Silk & Satin

The filthy bundle of rags stirred, displacing the flies settled on it, which promptly proceeded to buzz about angrily at this unwarranted disturbance.

A head emerged and crooked up to discern the source of the disturbance that had roused her from her mindless reverie. Strains of laughter and the joyful sounds of merry making floated across the street. Slowly and painfully, this misshapen crone rose to her feet, her face and hair so streaked with dirt, her back so hunched over; it was hard to tell that this creature was human, let alone once a ravishing beauty with porcelain white skin and golden blond hair.

She once had a name, Mariam it was. But that was so long ago, a different life and world when everything was not ash. Mariam is mad, she knows it or at least the tiny portion left of her sane self does. She is beyond caring though, preferring instead to revel in her insanity and embrace the mind-numbing bliss it offers. A sanctuary.

Slowly but surely, she hobbles over to that intriguing source, the sounds issuing forth vaguely familiar and possessing an allure she cannot ignore.

The sight of this creature stumbling across the cobbled street, hair down over her face, a swarm of flies buzzing furiously around their mobile host is strangely disturbing and brings to mind an alien overlord with its covey of faithful minions. After an eternity, she reaches the closest window and propping herself up on the ledge, peers in.

The sights and sounds of gaiety is a rude shock to her, the colour , beauty and happiness so different from the dirt and gloomy grey of the drab streets she had grown accustomed to. A lady in a stunning saffron silk dress with fluffy chiffon tassels of satin sails past gracefully, champagne flute in hand, laughing with a fellow companion. This image brings back a sudden flood of memories, the carefully erected barrier of madness failing to staunch this sudden onslaught.

I was rich once! Yes rich and gorgeous with friends and a loving husband to boot. That dress is nothing compared to those I had: fine chinese silk and Florentine satin laces in myriad colours, cerise, amber, carmine, citrine, quinacridone.....I had it all until that vixen came along, that wicked, evil bitch who poisoned my husband against me, cast me out of my home and destroyed my life. Bitches like the one that sailed past.

Her face twisting into a rictus snarl, she growled incoherently, speckles of foam dancing on her lips as she pressed her face and fists hard against the windowpane. The lady in silk twirls around, disturbed by the ferocious malicity directed at her, unseen but discernible, a dagger between the shoulder blades.

She drops the glass with a gratifying crash and shrieks hysterically, the sight confronting her undoubtedly like some demon straight out of hell.

Time slows after this as a burly man in a fine topcoat rushes out and swings a club at the one called Mariam. Frenzied with anger, she evades the blow with unnerving agility and snarling gutturally she charges him and sinks her teeth into his arm. She is rewarded with a loud bellow and the salty metallic tang of hot blood as well as a sharp blow to her head.

"That bitch Bit me!" Her vision clears and she sees the man clutching his blood soaked sleeve with a grimace and staring incredulously at her. "Come now Henry! Don't bother about her, she could have rabies for all you know, let me see to that wound." It was the lady in silk who hurried up beside the man and ushered him back into the house, but not before giving a little lady-like gasp and shooting Mariam a venomous look.

The door slams but Mariam barely registers it, she is in a daze and insanity once again takes its rightful place as ruler and sole master. She staggers off, her bevy of flies in tow, mumbling incoherently into the darkening dusk.