A black case containing an answer

kept under the bed ridden and broken.

Sought after for generations, an heirloom passed

down amongst the perfect.

In his hands, it causes nothing. Wants nothing.

Feels nothing.

Dispatched by the cult, I’ll retrieve the case

keeping the system at bay.

The glint under the bed distracts

from the movement of the door…

||| |||

A black case containing an answer

held loosely in my hand, smelling of blood.

The prodigy was sent in the pursuit of foley.

7:17 am. Monday.

My target was acquired.

Stalking the cult, the knife glints,

plunged into the unnecessary step taken in the quiet night.

His embers flare. Cascade down.

This isn’t a democracy.

The elders demand it of me.

A black case sits in front of me. Teasing me.

Wide eyed in the pink neon night, it calls to me.

Scratches and dents mark the surface

with five letters.

S P A C E

The last vestige of the forgotten caste,

their cries echo within me.

I close my eyes.

Why did the elders demand this case

passed down by the long gone and forgotten?

A black case prepares for transport

to the highest bidder.

A philanthropist. A philosopher.

A new treasure for his tower of toys,

Ray-guns, and tapes. Audiologs and mines.

The land of a forgotten past

where I don’t demand an answer

or ask a question.

Only he will hold the truth.

A black case containing an answer.