LAST NIGHT AN 8-TRACK SAVED MY LIFE click to watch – (pART ONE – “DARK OF NIGHT” ) – i.james.jones. Many will recognize i.james.jones. for his work as an emcee, most noteably as one half of the duo The Names Are Known. Some may even be familiar with his involvement as drummer for the mysterious Toronto City Riot. But far too few have had the opportunity to take in the sounds of his solo work. Waiting to be found within his now extensive archive of lost albums and unreleased passion projects is the series the boldPIGEON is proud unveil as LAST NIGHT AN 8-TRACK SAVED MY LIFE. Originally intended as an album of lo-fi singer/songwriter gems, LAST NIGHT AN 8-TRACK SAVED MY LIFE is a departure from i.james’s released material, as he leaves behind the bars for uniquely crafted, moody and introspective compositions which disregard traditional song structures to create pieces which sneak inside the listeners consciousness and transports them into the world of an artist pealing back the layers of bravado and conventions of his recognized material to create a sound that is emotionally true and daringly honest. Recorded entirely on 8-Track at the WayOut (his former home in Parkdale, Toronto), during a period i.james describes as “saturated with reclusive madness” pART ONE – “DARK OF NIGHT” features Jones on guitars and vocals in a mode that is sure to surprise fans of the emcee. Take in the video (a boldPIGEON Presentation) and download the song for free at www.soundcloud.com/boldpigeon For More from i.james.jones. KEEP WATCHING THE BOLD PIGEON. – boldPIGEON.COM 
Monthly Archives: November 2014
“A Witch Like Me”. – Chapter One: Jawbone by P.M. Kumalo (a boldPIGEON presentation)
Click to view the video trailer.
Chapter 1: Jawbone
OGRE
Children are the best. They are innocent before you
ruin them with you rules, your ‘culture’! They are
the tastiest! (He laughs menacingly). Then it’s the old
surprisingly, they have the honesty of youth but with
the wisdom of age. They know which of society’s rules
are good and which are just bullshit! They can tell you
if what you doing is just stupid, dangerous, or ruinous.
A horny lot too! But, you never know not here, not like
the old days.
A heavy forearm emerges from the folds of the coat and thick brick like fingers stir the pot. He takes as second serving spoon but in his hands it’s the size of a teaspoon and pours the broth from the ladle into the serving spoon. He sips it and through the darkness nods approvingly. He tends the fire in the fireplace with a vintage and ornate iron poker. The flames roar approvingly.
ORGE
I hate it when those filthy TV chefs taste directly from the
The ladle they will serve you with! Disgusting! This
however might be my best broth in a while. (He shakes in a large cylindrical
packet of salt into the cauldron)
Now where was I?
WITCH
You were talking about the old…
OGRE
Ah yes. Don’t bother struggling that chain was forged
from the same shooting star that gave the world
the sword you know as Excalibur! That is old magic!
Why do they send them so young to meet their end? Let me
guess some strange old man or woman which was it?
WITCH
A ..woman.
OGRE
Ah the question in your tone tells me it must be
An Obfuscate, sometimes looking like a man, other
times like a woman? (He laughs)
Ah they bring them young to die. Usually around
Puberty or young adulthood; you were a bit of an
outcast and this ‘woman’ told you, you had a special
destiny right? You are go to on a quest and recover
some magical objects right? You want this right?
He holds out an old battle axe with markings reeking, age, high learning, mystery and culture.
OGRE
This is from the jaw bone of an animal now extinct.
This edge is not gold it’s a metal that found nowhere
Except the little valley in the
Congo; where I killed the miner, oh five thousand
years ago… It can cut anything! I don’t even
remember the name of it now.
The Ogre leans forward into the light and we can see he has a thick browridge, deep intense eyes a broad nose, and a projecting chin. He is heavily built like an old time strong man from faded pictures from the early 20th century. His muscles do work, they are not for show. Where it not for the modern rags he wore he would look like an archaic homo sapien or a Neanderthal from a display at the Museum of Natural History.
The witch gasps.
OGRE
Yes. How old did you think we are? You have
no idea who you are fucking with.
Now his shape changes and he enlarges and the loose rags become tight fitting and his face takes on a demonic simian mien. His shadow now dominates the hotel room. His voice takes on an accent she has never heard before.
OGRE
We have been here since the world was sung
into existence! Since the Spirit walked over
the Earth and made it so! Since your Sky Father chose
you and your pathetic naked ape kind to rule!
Since you started to infect this place and shit on
everything! (Spittle flies from his mouth)
He collects himself and returns to his Neanderthal form breathing heavily!
WITCH
I had no idea (She starts to cry). I am sorry
but you killed those girls!
OGRE
So what! Where you going to take them into
you home? Were you going to wait while they
detoxed, for the ninth, tenth, eleventh time!
Were you going to out your fathers and brothers
who got their rocks of the backseat of your “SUVs”
with a drug addled teenager from up north! No!
You hypocrites! In the old days these things never
would have happened! Everybody knew everyone’s
business for good or ill! Do you know how many
of your filthy boy lovers and pederasts I have
stewed in my time? I was doing you a favour! Now
this Obfuscate comes to end me with you? A teenage witch!
WITCH
Tabitha was eleven and she was a kid! You killed
her!
OGRE
I told you children are the best; then old people,
then youth and finally the regular people. I can
Taste their jobs on their flesh; amourer, blacksmith
whore, milkmaid, carpenter, seamstress, millwright,
plumber, Head shop owner, shaman, priest, monk, imam,
Sheppard, goatherd, pilot, musician, troubadours, model
not much mean on them these days. Actors, milliners
haberdasheries, peace officers, knights, pages,
senators, gladiators, pyramid builders and worst of
all politicians, well the bad ones anyways!
And now you!
He suddenly grabs her by the throat and his meaty hand covers her mouth! The force nearly knocks her over!
ORGE
Don’t whisper in my presence! If you do it again
I will sew your mouth shut!
She nods. He sets her down.
OGRE
Time will come soon enough for you to die.
It doesn’t have to be too painful! Why oh
Why do they send you her. The Wizards and
Witches, Seers and Dabblers? I’ll tell you why
Because they are afraid! They cannot contain the
Magic they know. At some point the good ones
get to be too strong for their own good. Why does
your Obfuscate wear so many belts and bracelets?
To contain the power! Same as your wedding rings
Its supposed to keep the love encircled. Love is
more powerful than you can imagine. Wait
why are you wearing a belt!
Suddenly the Ogre leaps forward just as the belt from the witches’ waist leaps forward in the form of a snake. With his mighty axe he tries to slice the snake but misses. The snake now ramrod straight bites him in the eye!
The Ogre lets out a mighty yell and he rips out the snake taking his eye with it! He tosses the snake on the ground and slices it with the battle axe. The room of the actually shakes and sends up a puffs of dust from the furniture draped in a muddy grey covered cloths. The chair bound witch falls over.
ORGE
You wench I will eat you alive! You will
take days to die!
The Witch whispers, quickly and intently as the Ogre looms over her. She is looking at the fire.
OGRE
Heads or tails?(ha-ha)
He brings the axe over head and makes to cut her waist. Suddenly a red hot poker pierces the Ogre’s chest! Red, almost purple blood spouts out of the wound and spills on the floor; rotting the wood. He looks incredulously at the young Witch.
WITCH
I prefer poker!
OGRE
Ha, ha, very funny….
He falls over and dies his body weight cracking the floor boards.
The witch breaths a sign or relief, and whispers a spell to undo the chains. It doesn’t work.
AUNT DANICE
Perhaps this key will work.
The witch looks to and sees the Obfuscate, looking approvingly at her. She European woman, she still has the look of vitality and you get the sense she likes herself still. Despite the hour she has her makeup on and her long grey hair combed neatly and held back by a headband. Her sweater top dark blouse and pencil skirt are accented by several silver and gold rings and she wear two belts at jaunty angles.
The young witch is glad to see hear.
INT. TOM SUTTON’S COFFEE SHOP-NIGHT
The franchise coffee shop is decorated in a mildly inoffensive brown and cream colour scheme. The waitresses behind the counter, four of them; women, range the gamut from an eager teenager, to a single mother weathered by cigarettes an disappointments, a sedate university student, with a well worn copy of the latest Twilight book in her back pocket and the middle aged assistant manager who looks like everyone’s mom and no ones at the same time.
There is a glut of young clientele right now undoubtedly killing time until the late show across the parking lot begins.
AUNT DANICE
Boy I love the rhubarb pie here. Of course I knew
the original baker of the pie…
YOUNG WITCH (Interrupting)
Let me guess, with the Flintstones or was it with
Cleopatra’s chef’s cousin!
AUNT DANICE
Sarcasm is the last refuge of a weak mind.
YOUNG WITCH
Then pass me the dunce cap.
AUNT DANNICE
Clever, most people these days don’t know what
that is. What is it? The Ogre?
YOUNG WITCH
Yah think?
AUNT DANICE
Listen child! I am not your weakling mother!
You will speak to me with respect! Don’t make
me take off my rings because then I will bring the
the pain! Hear me!
Here eyes flash with anger and a stern malevolence, like teacher who has had enough from an unruly class.
YOUNG WITCH
Yes.
AUNT DANICE
Now there are two types of respect; the type that
is given because someone is older or more experienced
and the type you earn through acts that merit
respect. I would like to think I have earned
both from you. I respect you so please respect
me, Jordan. Is that fair Miss Bonkhe?
JORDAN BONKHE/YOUNG WITCH
Yes. Aunt Danice.
AUNT DANICE
Now have your Tom Poms and I promise by the last
one you will feel great!
Jordan looks down at the box full of ball shaped donuts between them. Cheerleaders with confectionary shaped pompoms cheer on the football player Tom Sutton in an idealized portrait from his playing days. She takes one of the raisin encrusted ones and chases it with chai.
JORDAN BONKHE
Like Jack Burton and Wang Chi great?
AUNT DANICE
Well yes but probably more like Wang Chi.
EXT/INT. TOM SUTTON COFEE SHOP-NIGHT
The youthful patrons have emptied the Coffee shop by now. The eager teen waitress is chatting with the young mother by the take out window. The university student is manning the till while sneaking looks at latest page of her book. The Assistant manager is making her rounds clearing the tables of old newspapers and crockery.
AUNT DANICE
Look at the sign?
The witch turns to see a help wanted sign. It reads: Needed Servers for Night shift. Ask for applications at the front counter.
JORDAN
Yeah what’s wrong with it?
AUNT DANICE
A server? What is that? I mean do they serve a cause
or do they clean Apollo’s stables? Do they attend
the Queen of Lapta or Kings of Torumekia? That is the
problem with language today; no precision. What is
wrong with waitress?
JORDAN
I guess they don’t want to offend anyone, you know.
AUNT DANICE
The thing is no I don’t know. Why is a manhunt
okay but chairwoman is verboten? Miss is okay
but somehow Mrs. is bad these days. Last time
I checked most men cowered before their wives
I should know I have been both!
JORDAN
Wow that was really too much information.
Well everybody has to be included you know.
Everyone is special.
AUNT DANICE
Ha! You mean girls like your nemesis Cathy
Cirko. You should have seen her ancestor.
Cir means boil in Croatian! She was hideous.
JORDAN
Yeah but I can’t say ‘oh yeah at least my name
doesn’t mean boil in Croatian!’ She’d say
Thanks “Dickipedia nerd!’ I mean ‘Cirko the
Jerko?’ That kind of roles off the tongue
but she’s “perfect” have you seen her?
Of course you have.
AUNT DANICE
Actually she is not ‘perfect’, her cousin who lives with
her family and is in the seminary lusts after her.
Oh, she drops E occasionally when she goes
clubbing. If she doesn’t get help soon it she could
end up being a crack whore in the future.
Literally.
JORDAN
How did you know? Let me guess her cat told
you this morning?
AUNT DANICE
Yes actually she did. A Persian, pampered but
a great mouser when she is allowed out. I hope
that was not a guess on your part but a back cast.
JORDAN
You know I back casted a little. Why do you
ask questions to which you know the answers.
AUNT DANICE
To keep conversation interesting besides you
can’t send thoughts clearly, yet.
JORDAN
So you know what I am thinking?
AUNT DANICE
Actually no. I can guess. Reading minds
becomes boring after a while even if you can
do it. Besides talking to you and coaching while
it is slower is harder and therefore more rewarding
in some ways. It gives us both time to think
before opening our minds and mouths.
I think you want to know about what
that Ogre said.
JORDAN
Yes.
AUNT DANICE
Well what did he say? I guess he said a lot.
They do love to talk.
OGRE
Children are the best. They are innocent before you
ruin them with you rules, your ‘culture’! They are
the tastiest! (He laughs menacingly). Then it’s the old
surprisingly, they have the honesty of youth but with
the wisdom of age. They know which of society’s rules
are good and which are just bullshit! They can tell you
if what you doing is just stupid, dangerous, or ruinous.
A horny lot too! But, you never know not here, not like
the old days.
A heavy forearm emerges from the folds of the coat and thick brick like fingers stir the pot. He takes as second serving spoon but in his hands it’s the size of a teaspoon and pours the broth from the ladle into the serving spoon. He sips it and through the darkness nods approvingly. He tends the fire in the fireplace with a vintage and ornate iron poker. The flames roar approvingly.
ORGE
I hate it when those filthy TV chefs taste directly from the
The ladle they will serve you with! Disgusting! This
however might be my best broth in a while. (He shakes in a large cylindrical
packet of salt into the cauldron)
Now where was I?
WITCH
You were talking about the old…
OGRE
Ah yes. Don’t bother struggling that chain was forged
from the same shooting star that gave the world
the sword you know as Excalibur! That is old magic!
Why do they send them so young to meet their end? Let me
guess some strange old man or woman which was it?
WITCH
A ..woman.
OGRE
Ah the question in your tone tells me it must be
An Obfuscate, sometimes looking like a man, other
times like a woman? (He laughs)
Ah they bring them young to die. Usually around
Puberty or young adulthood; you were a bit of an
outcast and this ‘woman’ told you, you had a special
destiny right? You are go to on a quest and recover
some magical objects right? You want this right?
He holds out an old battle axe with markings reeking, age, high learning, mystery and culture.
OGRE
This is from the jaw bone of an animal now extinct.
This edge is not gold it’s a metal that found nowhere
Except the little valley in the
Congo; where I killed the miner, oh five thousand
years ago… It can cut anything! I don’t even
remember the name of it now.
The Ogre leans forward into the light and we can see he has a thick browridge, deep intense eyes a broad nose, and a projecting chin. He is heavily built like an old time strong man from faded pictures from the early 20th century. His muscles do work, they are not for show. Where it not for the modern rags he wore he would look like an archaic homo sapien or a Neanderthal from a display at the Museum of Natural History.
The witch gasps.
OGRE
Yes. How old did you think we are? You have
no idea who you are fucking with.
Now his shape changes and he enlarges and the loose rags become tight fitting and his face takes on a demonic simian mien. His shadow now dominates the hotel room. His voice takes on an accent she has never heard before.
OGRE
We have been here since the world was sung
into existence! Since the Spirit walked over
the Earth and made it so! Since your Sky Father chose
you and your pathetic naked ape kind to rule!
Since you started to infect this place and shit on
everything! (Spittle flies from his mouth)
He collects himself and returns to his Neanderthal form breathing heavily!
WITCH
I had no idea (She starts to cry). I am sorry
but you killed those girls!
OGRE
So what! Where you going to take them into
you home? Were you going to wait while they
detoxed, for the ninth, tenth, eleventh time!
Were you going to out your fathers and brothers
who got their rocks of the backseat of your “SUVs”
with a drug addled teenager from up north! No!
You hypocrites! In the old days these things never
would have happened! Everybody knew everyone’s
business for good or ill! Do you know how many
of your filthy boy lovers and pederasts I have
stewed in my time? I was doing you a favour! Now
this Obfuscate comes to end me with you? A teenage witch!
WITCH
Tabitha was eleven and she was a kid! You killed
her!
OGRE
I told you children are the best; then old people,
then youth and finally the regular people. I can
Taste their jobs on their flesh; amourer, blacksmith
whore, milkmaid, carpenter, seamstress, millwright,
plumber, Head shop owner, shaman, priest, monk, imam,
Sheppard, goatherd, pilot, musician, troubadours, model
not much mean on them these days. Actors, milliners
haberdasheries, peace officers, knights, pages,
senators, gladiators, pyramid builders and worst of
all politicians, well the bad ones anyways!
And now you!
He suddenly grabs her by the throat and his meaty hand covers her mouth! The force nearly knocks her over!
ORGE
Don’t whisper in my presence! If you do it again
I will sew your mouth shut!
She nods. He sets her down.
OGRE
Time will come soon enough for you to die.
It doesn’t have to be too painful! Why oh
Why do they send you her. The Wizards and
Witches, Seers and Dabblers? I’ll tell you why
Because they are afraid! They cannot contain the
Magic they know. At some point the good ones
get to be too strong for their own good. Why does
your Obfuscate wear so many belts and bracelets?
To contain the power! Same as your wedding rings
Its supposed to keep the love encircled. Love is
more powerful than you can imagine. Wait
why are you wearing a belt!
Suddenly the Ogre leaps forward just as the belt from the witches’ waist leaps forward in the form of a snake. With his mighty axe he tries to slice the snake but misses. The snake now ramrod straight bites him in the eye!
The Ogre lets out a mighty yell and he rips out the snake taking his eye with it! He tosses the snake on the ground and slices it with the battle axe. The room of the actually shakes and sends up a puffs of dust from the furniture draped in a muddy grey covered cloths. The chair bound witch falls over.
ORGE
You wench I will eat you alive! You will
take days to die!
The Witch whispers, quickly and intently as the Ogre looms over her. She is looking at the fire.
OGRE
Heads or tails?(ha-ha)
He brings the axe over head and makes to cut her waist. Suddenly a red hot poker pierces the Ogre’s chest! Red, almost purple blood spouts out of the wound and spills on the floor; rotting the wood. He looks incredulously at the young Witch.
WITCH
I prefer poker!
OGRE
Ha, ha, very funny….
He falls over and dies his body weight cracking the floor boards.
The witch breaths a sign or relief, and whispers a spell to undo the chains. It doesn’t work.
AUNT DANICE
Perhaps this key will work.
The witch looks to and sees the Obfuscate, looking approvingly at her. She European woman, she still has the look of vitality and you get the sense she likes herself still. Despite the hour she has her makeup on and her long grey hair combed neatly and held back by a headband. Her sweater top dark blouse and pencil skirt are accented by several silver and gold rings and she wear two belts at jaunty angles.
The young witch is glad to see hear.
INT. TOM SUTTON’S COFFEE SHOP-NIGHT
The franchise coffee shop is decorated in a mildly inoffensive brown and cream colour scheme. The waitresses behind the counter, four of them; women, range the gamut from an eager teenager, to a single mother weathered by cigarettes an disappointments, a sedate university student, with a well worn copy of the latest Twilight book in her back pocket and the middle aged assistant manager who looks like everyone’s mom and no ones at the same time.
There is a glut of young clientele right now undoubtedly killing time until the late show across the parking lot begins.
AUNT DANICE
Boy I love the rhubarb pie here. Of course I knew
the original baker of the pie…
YOUNG WITCH (Interrupting)
Let me guess, with the Flintstones or was it with
Cleopatra’s chef’s cousin!
AUNT DANICE
Sarcasm is the last refuge of a weak mind.
YOUNG WITCH
Then pass me the dunce cap.
AUNT DANNICE
Clever, most people these days don’t know what
that is. What is it? The Ogre?
YOUNG WITCH
Yah think?
AUNT DANICE
Listen child! I am not your weakling mother!
You will speak to me with respect! Don’t make
me take off my rings because then I will bring the
the pain! Hear me!
Here eyes flash with anger and a stern malevolence, like teacher who has had enough from an unruly class.
YOUNG WITCH
Yes.
AUNT DANICE
Now there are two types of respect; the type that
is given because someone is older or more experienced
and the type you earn through acts that merit
respect. I would like to think I have earned
both from you. I respect you so please respect
me, Jordan. Is that fair Miss Bonkhe?
JORDAN BONKHE/YOUNG WITCH
Yes. Aunt Danice.
AUNT DANICE
Now have your Tom Poms and I promise by the last
one you will feel great!
Jordan looks down at the box full of ball shaped donuts between them. Cheerleaders with confectionary shaped pompoms cheer on the football player Tom Sutton in an idealized portrait from his playing days. She takes one of the raisin encrusted ones and chases it with chai.
JORDAN BONKHE
Like Jack Burton and Wang Chi great?
AUNT DANICE
Well yes but probably more like Wang Chi.
EXT/INT. TOM SUTTON COFEE SHOP-NIGHT
The youthful patrons have emptied the Coffee shop by now. The eager teen waitress is chatting with the young mother by the take out window. The university student is manning the till while sneaking looks at latest page of her book. The Assistant manager is making her rounds clearing the tables of old newspapers and crockery.
AUNT DANICE
Look at the sign?
The witch turns to see a help wanted sign. It reads: Needed Servers for Night shift. Ask for applications at the front counter.
JORDAN
Yeah what’s wrong with it?
AUNT DANICE
A server? What is that? I mean do they serve a cause
or do they clean Apollo’s stables? Do they attend
the Queen of Lapta or Kings of Torumekia? That is the
problem with language today; no precision. What is
wrong with waitress?
JORDAN
I guess they don’t want to offend anyone, you know.
AUNT DANICE
The thing is no I don’t know. Why is a manhunt
okay but chairwoman is verboten? Miss is okay
but somehow Mrs. is bad these days. Last time
I checked most men cowered before their wives
I should know I have been both!
JORDAN
Wow that was really too much information.
Well everybody has to be included you know.
Everyone is special.
AUNT DANICE
Ha! You mean girls like your nemesis Cathy
Cirko. You should have seen her ancestor.
Cir means boil in Croatian! She was hideous.
JORDAN
Yeah but I can’t say ‘oh yeah at least my name
doesn’t mean boil in Croatian!’ She’d say
Thanks “Dickipedia nerd!’ I mean ‘Cirko the
Jerko?’ That kind of roles off the tongue
but she’s “perfect” have you seen her?
Of course you have.
AUNT DANICE
Actually she is not ‘perfect’, her cousin who lives with
her family and is in the seminary lusts after her.
Oh, she drops E occasionally when she goes
clubbing. If she doesn’t get help soon it she could
end up being a crack whore in the future.
Literally.
JORDAN
How did you know? Let me guess her cat told
you this morning?
AUNT DANICE
Yes actually she did. A Persian, pampered but
a great mouser when she is allowed out. I hope
that was not a guess on your part but a back cast.
JORDAN
You know I back casted a little. Why do you
ask questions to which you know the answers.
AUNT DANICE
To keep conversation interesting besides you
can’t send thoughts clearly, yet.
JORDAN
So you know what I am thinking?
AUNT DANICE
Actually no. I can guess. Reading minds
becomes boring after a while even if you can
do it. Besides talking to you and coaching while
it is slower is harder and therefore more rewarding
in some ways. It gives us both time to think
before opening our minds and mouths.
I think you want to know about what
that Ogre said.
JORDAN
Yes.
AUNT DANICE
Well what did he say? I guess he said a lot.
They do love to talk.
* * * * *
For More from ” A WITCH LIKE ME” and P.M. Kumalo, KEEP WATCHING THE BOLD PIGEON. http://www.boldPIGEON.com
“The Storm Before the Calm” from SIMON’S SONG – by N.L. Kumalo (COMPLETE CHAPTER)
A Chapter from SIMON’S SONG By N.L Kumalo (click to view the video trailer).
It was Tuesday night when Sheila first heard the words. Oh, she’d thought the words before, most folk do; but she’d never really considered it, not in a real way before that night. Well, almost never.
What she knew, what she had always known was that they were bad. Bone deep, dyedinthewool, B.A.D. Wilful, stubborn, spiteful, and meanspirited to boot. They, all three of them bullies since toddler hood, her precious triplets, sometimes, she swore they stank of evil. They were identical in every way, one egg evenly split in neat thirds, which even her doctor had said was unlikely to the point of impossibility, but there you go. Other people were fooled by them with their perfectly blond VonTrapp faces, with their naturally neat hair, and warm blue eyes. Proctor, Princeton, and Price, even their honey blond good looks mocked her, she of the gypsy, (her mothers words), skin and too close set eyes complimented by what could, with great generosity, be described as a complicated smile; they were their fathers creatures entire.
Not that he gave a shit, he’d just banged her once, drunk as a lord and twice as rich, he’d passed out right after. A friend of a lousy friend of a coworker at a goddamned office Christmas fucking party.
“Hum motherfucking bug,” She thought testily, smashing the car into park on that fateful Tuesday eve.
It cascaded through the night, right up and into her window, blowing off the river. The stink made her gag and reel, she staggered slightly in reaction as she opened the door and tasted wrongness in the air. “Jesus weeps!” she thought “that reeks like Hell,” capitalizing the “H” in her own thoughts. Blinking through watering eyes, fighting her gag reflex the while, she savagely barked her shin on a tryke getting out of the car and unthinking hauled in a breath to shout an obscenity into the uncaring ether, but the curse caught in her throat held there by the oily, fetid reek that assailed her
“fuck” Sheila coughmuttered as she made her sore, sickened way to the front door fumbling with her keys.
For her part, she’d hated them as soon as the nurse had foisted the squalling pink bundles of disappointment on her in the nursery. Her resentment only grew as they did, and it didn’t help that her mother had used their birth as an opportunity to move into Sheila’s life and apartment. Running roughshod over her every thought and idea.
“What kind of woman gets knocked up by some guy she doesn’t know?” Was a popular refrain, “ A girl alone can’t raise one baby, never mind three,” was another.
“Thank god your father isn’t here to see this,” rounded out the litany of sufferings her mom favoured.
When she finally died, six months ago, Sheila had cracked the champagne she’d bought for the occasion years ago. Even still, anger bubbled sourly in her gut. A constant companion by now more intimate than any of her lovers.
Not that she’d had many.
Then one night, the one fatal, fateful night in June, it spoke to her, smoothly, wickedly it spoke. “It’d be easy, “ it purred, “ satisfying too. You see the way they look at you, you know its just a matter of time. One fine day they’re gonna getcha. You should get rid of them first.”
“Correct them; Go ahead they’re sleeping, now’s the time.” It whispered, insistent, demanding, cajoling, pleading, unyielding, unstopped. She hadn’t wanted to listen, had no intention of complying. No real intention anyway, but It wouldn’t stop. It never stopped.
It followed her to sleep and spoke to her there. Muttering in her dreams, stoking her desire for revenge. It poured her morning coffee, buttered, (margarined, really), her morning toast, lit her cigarettes. It susserated while she made their lunches and got them ready for school. Always talking, implacable, unbending, undeniable.
And, to tell the truth; a nonetoosecret corner of her mind welcomed that smooth authoritive voice. Craved its tone and timbre, listened eagerly, absorbing every syllable, believing every word. In no time at all, that corner grew and grew, metastasizing, darkening.
In the end, she wanted it to never stop and she knew, inside her secret self, that soon it would consume her utterly. At last, desperate, she knew she had to make it stop.
Later, when they found her ankle deep in blood and viscera, her sons lives splattered on the walls, and splattered all over her; she was laughing. Tears streamed down her face cutting blameless channels in her charnel house visage. The voices had finally stopped.
It was Friday night.
* * * * *
For More from SIMON’S SONG and N.L. Kumalo … KEEP WATCHING THE BOLD PIGEON. http://www.boldPIGEON.com
#FBF – FLASHBACK FRIDAYS with NaNa @ RAVAGE & RUMBLE
Click to watch the 15 second Promo.
The bar is owned by former MuchMusic personality, and member of the Oddities, Rainbow Sun Francs.
The drinks are poured by Emcee/Producer extraordinaire Jeff Spec.
And on the decks, none other than Toronto’s own misfit of wax, NaNa (Ear2Much / the Names Are Known / Culture Code – International Deejay of the Year2014 – Ghana Music Awards).
Can you think of a better place to be on a Friday night in Toronto?
(… neither can we).
#FBF – Flashback Fridays @ Ravage & Rumble (1378 Queen Street West).
“The Storm Before the Calm” – a chapter from SIMON’S SONG – by N.L. Kumalo (VIDEO TRAILER)
Click to watch the Video Trailer (a boldPIGEON presentation)
N.L. KUMALO is a Canadian writer, emcee and thinker, born to Zulu parents in Apartheid South Africa. As a shaper of culture, Kumalo manifests his deft skill in many forms. Drawing from the experience of his own evolution as immigrant, student, d-boy, inmate, artist, N.L Kumalo is a creator whose work is animate and enlightened.His intellect and soulfully articulate voice soar and sweep in from the fringes of the Canadian Story Untold.
“The Storm Before the Calm” is a chapter from Simon’s Song. A novel by N.L. Kumalo, in development as a serial release on boldPIGEON.com
Click to read the complete chapter – “The Storm Before the Calm” from Simon’s Song by N.L. Kumalo .
For More from N.L. Kumalo, keep watching the boldPIGEON.
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