LJ Idol Week 37: Bedlamite

[crisp_sobriety]

The Bedlamite sits in the dark.

They barely move, barely speak; it is their compromise for existing in a world of noise. The door is locked against noise. There’s no tolerating the stutter and fuzz, no enduring the swell of beating drums.

The dark was not by choice, but it serves their purpose of non-stimulation well.

Comments

[hosticle_fifer]

I love prose-poetry, because you can get that sharp efficiency, the heightened power of carefully chosen words, without the pitfalls of pretension and poseurism. You've done an excellent job here! It comes from the heart, gauging by your comment - which is sad to hear, but it propelled the piece with proper perception. We all gotta make use of what we have under our belts, whether it was bad or good, if we can stitch it into something greater!

I don't know where all this alliteration came from. I think it was an accident at first and I just kinda ran with it. :)

Anyway, excellently done. Around the middle, a song popped into my head:

The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day, the paperboy brings more