oil fire
oil fire
by gene defcon
Disturbing black bitch came screaming out of the oil field a screaming silhouette a fiery sunspot black silhouette screaming across the sky except low in the sky almost to the ground in fact on the ground screaming and kicking up mud or perhaps oil globs there was a taste of oil in the air but the whole field was on fire so it still could have been mud and the wall of heat gently pushed me backwards no it wasn’t gentle really it was an oppressive shove backwards and it wasn’t even backwards because I went twisting so it was backwards sideways forwards sideways backwards and the Ozarka guy was pinned beneath his truck but I was able to use his body to catapult myself into the gaping door and through to the other side of the vehicle and out again and why didn’t I take the opportunity to douse myself in his now unclaimed jugs (he was clearly dead) well everyone knows that you can’t pour water on an oil fire
Defcon’s lack of punctuation is always disturbing, much like the main character in this nevertheless excellent prose. The ending is punctuated with a cruel fact of nature: Oil and water never mix.