The Vesuvian Man: Unlived

Available digitally for free on this blog! | Ran by Thomas Stewart | Artwork by Stirling Horslen | Copyright © Thomas Stewart, 2020-2023 |

[thevesuvianman]

II

I have substituted the agonizing scratching for a better method. The prior made my hands grow heavy with a disgusting substance that could possibly be contributed to my confusion unwell feeling (?) I often find I am bringing up an awful bile when I am near the black smoke. I have fought to stay away but I cannot help myself Aruvia, it's a beautiful picture. If only you could understand.

I saw something awful last night. It woke me from my slumber just before sun-up. I will take my time writing this out for you because, when I think about it, I get the bad feeling. It makes my ears ring, my eyes burn. Here is what I saw.

Two people... Both of them had an amused expression. I told them to leave but they wouldn't listen. I raised my voice but still they were deaf to me, unshaken. Suddenly, they boomed with inaudible demands, piercing my skull. They were ripped to pieces in flickering orange light. It danced on their faces with beauty and grace before dispatching them both and never did they stop smiling at me. That was the start and the end of them.

I can see it now. The knowledge that they couldn't hear me - that I couldn't do anything at all - made them happy. These... things... enjoyed it.

I don't know what to say, I-

I must go Aruvia, forgive me.

[thevesuvianman]

I

I will attempt to recount the morning but take note Aruvia, that I shudder to do so.

Although the mist seemed to clear, I asked myself why I wished for clear vision in the first place. The world was disgusting Aruvia, rotten. A glacier of rocks and pebbles. Nothing more. Insufferable. I tried my hardest to keep my eyes open, stand on two feet and withstand the awful ringing noise.

I felt like someone was calling to me beyond the searing pain. Calling my name.

Me. What is my name?

...

I will finish this later, Aruvia.

Coughing, sharp and brittle, was how my morning really began. I am a day more from yesterday Aruvia, and have toiled over this world I live in. If you ever demand my name again, I will write... something. I'll think of something. It will keep me calm.

No-one else lives here... but us. I will make this life worth living for you Aruvia, bothersome though it may be to question but I am fraught with unanswered askings. What belongs here? There's something deeply fractured... but what?

I am not quite sure why... bothersome... bothersome? Why is it?

I looked around again today and found nothing. Nothing? No-one? No home?

Home...? Here is my home... isn't it...?

Aruvia, I am feeling unwell. I will finish tomorrow.