• The Possession

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    “The possessed always becomes violent.
    We have yet to see a case of non-violent devil possession.”
    —Mark (blind plaza kiosko masseur/street philosopher)

    The Master was a light beam that pierced her ovaries
    and egg cells, as if cooking them into amino acids and DNA

    to later differentiate into muscles, fats and bones in her cervix.
    Perhaps it explains the propensity for compassion. Having stayed

    too long in the human womb, He incubated into humanity,
    even longed for the fear and pain it entailed. But not for me.

    He thinks to himself. For him, light becoming flesh is an aberration.
    Like right now, he does not own this weight. He does not own

    these eyes, only the visions. Who could he be? Even his thoughts
    travel slower than before, having to pass through faulty electrical

    wirings of nerves, veins, breath, heartbeat, and alphanumerics
    of discourse. He struggles to take his first step, speed no longer

    melting time into illusion. There is now the physics of wings
    and sound. He closes his eyes to feign his being. But alas, forced

    death only makes him more alive. After a few seconds, taste starts
    to swim like a fish inside his mouth and he himself becomes all skin,

    swimming in the sea of touch. I am here. Who could I be, this time?
    He asks. For unlike the Master, he is earthen light turned to flesh

    in a factory instant, just like that, perhaps even faster than The Fall.
    So he starts to walk, and oh, he wears coat and tie, and a robe.

    And oh, he carries an attaché case. He enters a room full of people.
    “All rise!” He hears. And almost dutifully, everyone rises with the sun.

    He looks at the crowd now pulsating with anticipation in this room
    bordered with dusty steel cabinets and papers. He opens the attaché case

    and sees a document neatly arranged. “Judgment,” it says. A young lady
    comes to get it. With this, he lights up, aware at last. He hands over

    the document to her, thinking Aha! The flesh trying to be like light:
    here there then now—like justice. As the woman starts to read

    the document, he opens the attaché case again and finds it empty. So he
    materializes two government-issued glock pistols as a matter of course

    and then turns to the crowd. “Counsel for the accused, counsel for the defense,
    approach the bench.” He orders while loading the guns. Two bespectacled fellows

    come to him with reverence and he hands the guns to them. The two lawyers
    look at each other in disbelief. He smiles approvingly, handing them more

    magazines and bullet boxes. “Fiat lux. Let there be light,” he says. The lawyers,
    now naked owners of their weight and eyes, take their cue, pointing the pistols

    at their clients. The cops and the sheriff shut the doors, nodding in agreement.
    Bababababang! The litigants are dead. Bababababang! The court spectators

    scamper for safety but the cops and the sheriff join in the affray. Babababang!
    With everyone dead, the lawyers, the cops and the sheriff approach the bench

    and find that the judge is now having coffee, enjoying the spectacle.
    So they shoot him in the face until the magazines are empty. They hit him

    with the butt of their guns. They could hear people rushing outside the door
    so they turn to the young lady still holding the judgment she was reading earlier.

    Now with a hole between her blank eyes, they kiss the blood off her mouth,
    as if a ritual. They undress her, kiss her breasts, kiss her vulva. Then they

    take turns entering her. Appeased, they reload smiling at each other and shatter
    their own skulls as the SWAT team breaks the door open. The crime operatives

    gather guns and bodies and powder the corners for prints then go
    to a nearby convenience store for donuts and soda. No light beam

    will pierce the dead lady’s ovaries and egg cells, except perhaps
    the microscope at the crime laboratory. But a thought wakes up

    in her cervix, cooking into amino acids, DNA, muscles, fats and bones:
    I am here. And I know who I am, this time. He thinks to himself.

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