Weekly Feature

Silent Hijacker

Death has a distinctive smell

Death of a human that is

Not road kill

Or a little bird the cat has mauled

Then dragged in onto your living room rug.

That’s different.

The stench of death encroaching in on a human bodyis putrid

There is nothing on earth remotely similar.

Yet,the smell was of no concern to meI wanted to see it

Feel itThe shape of it

Texture Colour Form

Surely at least death has a form?

I wanted so badly to see it in the air around my father’s body

To grab it with my bare hands Strangle it

I needed something tangible to fight with or at least

Try to reason with I saw nothing.

All I could do was try to put it on paper

Contain it Box it in

Not allow its presence to hold the room.

Scribbles and scratches

Black doorways and rough ink lines

I don’t think for one minute

That I captured it.

It only helped to dispel my rage at this invisible pervasive force

That whisked my father’s life force from his body

As quickly and effort lessly as a child letting air out of a balloon

That they couldn’t manage to tie a knot in.

Lucille Bonne is a visual artist, poet and flash fiction inventor, hailing from Edinburgh, Scotland, now living in Cork city. Her time is currently divided between family on the Isle of Mull on west coast of Scotland and her adopted beloved Cork city in the Republic of Ireland.

See more of Lucille’s work on Instagram @lucillebonne

I saw nothing.All I could do was tryto put it on paperContain itBox it inNot allow its presence to hold the room.Scribbles and scratchesBlack doorways and rough ink linesI don’t think for one minuteThat I captured it.It only helped to dispel my rageat this invisible pervasive forceThat whisked myfather’slifeforce from his bodyAs quickly and effortlesslyas a childletting air out of a balloonThat they couldn’t manage to tie a knot in.