THE KICK

 

The Kick didn’t like the blinking thing. It pondered, head cocked, at the incessant amber flash. Still confused, The Kick tasted it. Warm but not bitter or sweet. The Kick boggled.

 

So The Kick... kicked it.

 

It stomped and kicked and pounded with its heel over, over, over. The blinking thing crunched under its feet. The blinking stopped but it wasn’t enough. The Kick was no longer in control. The rage was blinding. The Kick continued to flail, smashing everything around it. The jars. The lights. The crystals. The hearts. They all ruptured under The Kick’s ragequake. It pounded its fists into the earth. It bit and hissed at the air.  The gutters of its soul, where the black pooled, rumbled and spouted inhuman, involuntary howls of RagePainHopelessness at the sky.

 

“Take these things! Take them all!”

 

When all the sugars had burned off  The Kick collapsed into the shards of the universe that were scattered around on the ground. It wished it could seep into the mud like blood and wine.

 

It was only then that The Kick missed the blinking thing.