Nothing is ever certain (Part 1)

Mud splattered ears tilt rearward as they absorb and swallow the hot melody of her hostility. Meanwhile, our unyielding atmosphere continues to fluctuate, mayhaps irrationally frustrated with my (our) neglect of them. Those gloomy tendrils morph; becoming our depraved, toothy audience whose very presence heightened the physical simulate for aggression. Ignoring outside negativity almost entirely, these ebon corners barely twitch – my entirety remains unmoving, fixed solidly as the near downpour continues to swamp around us. The subconscious mind slips into that archive -- but those eternal memories are faded parchment and didn’t par well with the sodden woman who stood before me. Above me. Her denial of recognition comes as no surprise (though disappointment scores me) and had our situation/companionship been slightly less morbid...no matter… My crown follows the lean curve of the shivering branch which supports it; turning into the narrow arc of one blackened foreleg. Gently, I brush aside the soiled remnants against that upper muscle; though a poor rag at best, those few swipes clear the majority of mud from my drenched expression. The remainder slowly become cleansed by the merciless elements. Weary, bottomless irises return centerfold; holding her position gently…without resentment. While those kaleidoscope threads continue to harass, growling in the near distance. One gilden foot lifts from the murky floor before planting itself deliberately to suggest forward movement. “Have you,” dribbling brims scatter the rain. I'm hesitant to directly confront her memories...but there is no way of measuring how long my aged soul will remain in this existence, “forgotten the face of your father?”

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