"An altered awareness, is a sedated soul and a deflected destiny." Chioma Onwudiwe
".... Slithery and sealed for delivery:
Juja’s eyes were very heavy, as she blinked them open rapidly. She must have fallen asleep, from what she could remember. Everything around her was very dark and bumpy. She did not think, that she could move or stretch her body. She could feel its form and familiarity, but was not really able to do much with it. Then suddenly, some of what may have transpired. Before she possible fell asleep, began to come back to her. She remembered that she had been, in the process of being transformed into a reptile. After which she fell, into a deep unconscious state or a trance.
Thankfully, her seemingly desperate and risky attempt to break the spell over her mind had worked. At least, she hoped that it had. She was currently aware at the moment, that her body was being conveyed to some place. So it had obviously proven to be a smart method, after all. Every now and then, she would get thrown from one side of the conveyor to the other. Bounced up and down, by the same mode or vessel of transportation. And then eventually dropped with a startling thud. The fact that she felt constricted, constrained and cramped. Must have helped prevent her from vomiting.
Now reminding herself, of the real reason she had wanted to retain her soul and consciousness. Juja decided to stay still, in order to be able to pay attention to her surroundings. And of course, to whatever else might be going on around her. First she heard a raised angry voice, belonging to a man. He was saying something, about a snake in a bag. Then after the barking, came a smaller voice. That was probably responding to the man. The captive woman could not hear what the second voice had spoken. But it sounded like it was a distressed female speaking...."
Culled from the phenomenal fiction 'THE MONITORS'/2015 by Chioma Onwudiwe
Hello lovely reader! Remember, when I said the 'TOYS AND TOOLS' poem, had a last verse to it? See 'Toy Story (The List)' blog. Well here it is, delivered as promised and laden with meaning as always.
TOYS AND TOOLS (cont'd) A Poem, by Chioma Onwudiwe/2017 They deem the souls of men, one in a pack Cluttered in groups of their race, or their deeds For every bunch, one must be picked from the sack Much of the same they are, therefore rid even their seeds
First pick the good and the potentially so Hype and then hold in system, for future use Program the mind and tools are good to go Behold an altered soul, but ready muse
Sadly, toys believe they've reached the summit One gets what they want and clears out, who they don’t Not their crime, if they never did the elimination commit So to face an unfolding fate, they simply won’t
A day soon dawns, on the handler and the object When the only way out, is a certain demise Both of them to the same end, are now subject All was written as seen and this is no surmise
