“Unsex me here.”

Upon the night of a bright blue moon it appeared. Their wisdom departed amongst the crisp patterns of shed skin and the forks that caused a tongue to split. The fangs of success parted and from them the venom of fortune sprayed. A damned spot hit the lips and the taste crashed against its spine. Down the throat the demand was supplied. Cast out the simian swing. Uproot the servant of service. It will no longer run, it will master the chase.

Upon a drought the border tore. Paradise shrank and the crucible opened its window. From the lush fruit and comforts of their home they stumbled to feed a hunger that never gets fed. In happier times it would not have found a flock, but its smile came in a trail of frowns and the crucible was now the only trough that was paying out. Anything they could kill they couldn’t catch, and anything that could kill them caught them when it could. Those few, those humiliated few, those bottlenecks of burden. They scraped and toiled as they lost their paws and tails to better breach bone with new tools that helped them suck the marrow from ribs left to them by less forsaken maws. They looked for it, some succour, some piece of mind, and they found it. Bulbs of genius growing out of turds.

Upon the moonless dark they broke the flesh of fruit that was of no sprig born. Their search ended with the acuity of boundaries dissolved. Desperate addicts with no space left to them on the floor. An organism grew out of the old. An organism despite reality, with its own identity, its own values, its own reason, and its own Universe. In this the four rivers merged. The jet of gender burst into the sky above. Half to concept what the object had done, half to object at the concept of birthing such a balloon headed freak amid the last warming dawn of paradises’ Sun.

What have I to do? Talk? Look. A bird sitting on a stone. Comfy, right? But it’s watching me, not with its eyes, but with its mind. We have perverted this world so thoroughly that even the birds must escape it. But the game it’s playing with me has no winner. I cannot fly as much as it cannot wonder. I’d eat the bird if I could catch it, I’m that hungry for flesh. My body needs to feed as my mind demands the taste. I miss men. The first one I meet I’m going to punch. What else? I don’t think there is anything else. I’m waiting on illusion here. A new group that will, hopefully, give to me their home. My hair got longer and messed up. Still alone, still trying to keep warm, but with the stones to talk to about my tawdry existence now. Ah, I can’t stress how much I want to eat some meat. Above my head the sky’s grey skin has a blue scar marking it. And, though if I could change what I’ve done, I can’t. A talus bone that’s been rolled can’t be unrolled, the only thing you can do is pretend it never happened. Pretend the appearance of the world in front of you is the first you have ever seen. It’s what the stones do. Probably. It’s what I’d do if I were a stone.

He’s not up to it, oh well, okay, we’ll go back and pick up the slack. Cain was heading north through the clearance. He was inside the gravity well of a large mass of women. The sole representative of his sex. To join them he was forced to make a promise regarding sleeping arrangements. At night he had to stay at least an oak tree’s length away from any one member of the group. Not ideal, he was already on edge, but those were Mot’s conditions and she didn’t budge. He kept hearing things when trying to get to sleep. The first handful of nights he attempted to ignore them, it was probably members of the group going about their business, but then he heard what he thought were animal sniffs around his bed padding. Darkness it amplifies. A mouse or a bear? They become one. A couple more disturbances later he let out a tiny, insignificant, yelp. Behaviour that was completely natural and understandable. Some how it managed to attract the attention of one of the group, they must have extremely good hearing. She responded, Anat, and brought Cain a blanket, “What happened?” It was nothing, Cain had taken care of it. “Call me again if nothing comes back.” She left. Hey, free blanket. Cain gave it back to her the next day and thanked her, “No worries.” She smiled at him. Isolation it amplifies.

The day meant Cain was free to run the gamut. Well, not run, they walked a lot. Well, it wasn’t really walking, and not really marching, more like a trudge. You were thirsty? You drank whilst you trudged. Hungry? You ate whilst you trudged. Couldn’t keep yourself going? You got carried. Nobody wanted to be carried. Initially the women were difficult to distinguish. They wore similar clothing to everybody else including Cain. A loose piece of leather, open at the bottom, that could be let out depending on the weather. Some would wear a necklace on occasion, and some would wear flowers in the folds of their clothing or hair, but none of this seemed to distinguish their status or personality. Hair style though? Cain found that he could get a working read on them using that metric. Long hair and down? They wouldn’t begin conversation. If Cain attempted it with them things would remain amiable until he looked the other way and then, magic, they’d vanish. Shorter hair? A robust greeting with not much else. Long hair and up? Cain would get a shred of their biography, pleasant company for that day but they weren’t interested in anything long term. Any invigorating social occasions were performed during the dusk, the moment, of course, when Cain was obliged to be apart.

On and on they went. The bubble of the group masked from Cain how far he had travelled. The uniformity of the terrain shrouded how alien everything felt. It’d taken the days becoming countless before one of them, from the long and down, showed even a fleeting interest in him. A youthful face with auburn hair, Yam, asked Cain, “Where you from?” Cain was from the usual coalescence of one part boredom plus one part mania. Yam looked at the mud, they kept trudging together, “I was here before you. A new moon before, roughly?” First time? “Yeah.” Children? “No. Why would you ask that?” They trudged some more. Yam initiated again, “Why’d you leave home?” Cain bounced it back, “I’m a woman. You might not have noticed? I have a right to journey. You on the other hand?” Cain shrugged. “Aren’t you going to answer?” Cain didn’t. They trudged in silence a little bit farther and then she broke off back into the group.

Screaming. Screaming brought Anat into Cain’s orbital position once again. Anat took Yam into her arms. Yam sobbed. Cain watched them re-enter and then tried to get some sleep.

First thing next day Cain was cut off by Anat before he could join the group for the daily trudge. He was made to follow her and was led to an isolated small rocky outcrop where he had to stand and stay. The audience trickled in, sitting in front of the most prominent rock cross-legged. Yam arrived with Mot. Yam stood on one side of the rock and Cain was ordered to stand on the opposite. Mot took her position on top. Anat took the stage between the rock and the audience, Cain tiptoed forward and tapped Anat on the shoulder to try and get some clarification as to what was happening. “Please go back to where you were told to stand, you’ll have your time to speak.” Cain did that and Anat spoke to the audience. Cain whispered to Mot, while Anat was talking, inquiring whether he could sit as well. Mot did not respond. Anat rounded off her speech, “Let judgement be the rock. Let it remain as the rock remains.” Mot flicked one of her arms forward and Yam stepped on to Anat’s stage. Yam stood in front of Anat and Anat placed her hands on Yam’s shoulders. “Last night,” Yam froze. Anat theatrically nodded her head and murmured which the seated audience mimicked. “I was getting ready for bed, huh, I do that,” The audience laughed, “Closing my eyes and waiting for it. I was so tired from travelling that day, the weather’s turning, getting so gloomy, and the mud weighs your feet down, you know?” Anat repeated her earlier routine, the audience followed suit. “That’s when nature called, I needed to take a leak. Half in a daze I went into the dark. Dug a hole, squatted, relieved myself in it, filled the hole back up with dirt.” Yam went solid again, “So,” She collected her thoughts some more, “Going back I hear this noise in the dark. No idea what it was or what was happening. Heard it again and I recognise it, it was a person calling me over. And, oh-” Yam’s voice evaporated then returned with condensation, “It’s my fault, isn’t it?” Anat rubbed Yam’s shoulders and let her know she could take her time. Yam wiped her cheeks. “That’s when the weirdness came on.” Yam laughed nervously and drew an emotionally strained breath, “I didn’t have a clue who he was or why he was beckoning me over. I went to him because I wanted to see if he was in trouble. I had no idea what he wanted. I knelt down to get on his level because he was sitting on his bedding. He asked me, I can’t remember exactly, it was something like asking me what I was doing out there on my own. A creepy question, I thought. Maybe that’s just me. I told him mind his own. That’s when he stood up, in this aggressive manner. I mean, I didn’t even do anything and he got up towards me. I stood up too and backed off. Then he looked at me.” Yam turned to Mot, “It’s strange to say it that way.” Mot encouraged Yam, “Not strange at all, please continue.” Yam looked back at the audience, “Well, it’s like the story. A girl goes into the forest and gets herself eaten. The hungry eyes the predator has, that was his look. He stood there and stared. Stared at my chest. Not in a mindless way. There was force in his stare. He got so close to me I could smell his breath. He said that he was lonely and asked me if I was lonely too. I replied saying how tired I was, and tried to leave but he pulled on my wrist. That’s when I cried out.” Yam placed her hand on Anat’s, “She came and rescued me. I’m not sure what would have happened without her.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Mot thanked Yam for her openness. “You must have been very frightened?” Yam nodded and the audience made their noises. Mot warned Yam that her answer to the next question might have severe consequences and a harsh punishment, “Did he, in your eyes, violate you?” Mot stopped Yam from responding and rephrased, “Did he molest your chest, buttocks, or genitalia?” Yam shook her head and looked down at the floor, Anat relayed this message in case Mot missed it. Cain interjected, “There’s punishment worse than having to stand here in front of everyone?” Anat reminded Cain that he would have his turn to speak, but Mot, without looking at him, answered his question, “A person found to have committed such acts is subject to a quite forceful punishment.” The audience remained hush, Mot looked at Cain direct, “Do you understand?” Cain nodded, thought about it, then replied, “What is it?” Mot, still looking at him, answered, “A person will be buried up to their neck and have large rocks hurled at their head.” Cain looked straight ahead. Mot thanked Yam once more and Anat instructed Yam to take her original spot besides the rock. Anat ushered Cain on to the stage. His turn to speak.

“What is it you want?” Anat nodded her theatrical nod and the audience went with her, “Say whatever weighs on your mind.” Cain stood silent, in front of Anat, with his face scrunched up. “What’s the problem? We all heard her, I didn’t do her. End of.” Mot asked Cain if he was corroborating Yam’s story, Cain responded, “No.” Mot flicked both of her wrists and urged Cain to give his side of events. “I didn’t force myself on her.” Anat nodded and murmured, the audience did not reciprocate. Anat did it again more forcefully, and a handful of them capitulated. Cain sighed, “The middle of the night. I think. I was tired too you see, not that I can tell what that has to do with anything. It was dark and if I hear something rustling then, yeah, I’m going to ask if anyone’s out there. Make sure it was nothing bad. That’s not beckoning, is it?” Cain itched his eyebrow, “She came towards me. And,” Cain looked back at Anat, she politely informed him to remain looking forward, “We had talked before. Not total strangers. It’s not creepy to wish someone pleasant dreams if you’ve talked. She came up to me before and she willingly came up to me the other night.” Cain took his time, “And, so, what would be her intentions? Ask yourself that. I’m fine admitting it, I don’t have to get all weepy eyed. Inside the pip of my heart? Sexual desires. I’d probably have sex with at least half of the women here. If they wanted.” Tutting came from the seated audience, “More than half then. That doesn’t make me feral. But that’s the thing, would any of you get up here and say that? No. Would you admit that you wanted to make every man turn feral? Doubt. You want me mad and confused and I refuse. That’s your problem. That’s why she came up to me. Before and last night. She wanted my approval.” Cain studied the audience, “That’s not what I’m saying definitely happened, okay. I’m saying that it’s possible and yet nobody is talking about it, yeah.” Cain stopped again and nobody said anything so he continued, “I’m not against it. It’s satisfying to feel that attention,” No reaction, “She comes over to me, I get up, I was interested to see what she wanted, she got scared. I am truly sorry. Is that what you want me to say?” Mot asked Cain whether he felt what he had said about women was appropriate, Cain raised his eyebrow ridge, “Probably no?” Mot told him to clarify with a clear yes or no answer, “No.” He rounded off his statement, “I backed off when she started bawling. I’m not interested in that.” Anat nodded her head and got a lacklustre audience response. Anat asked Cain to go back to his position next to the rock. Cain did that. Finished.

Anat approached Mot, they conferred at a whisper. Cain’s guts got the message that his head had missed. They gurgled and strongly implied they needed to take a leak themselves. Adjudication stretched on, the more they discussed the guiltier Cain felt. By the culmination Cain’s head had caught up to his guts, his brow dripping with sweat as Mot stood up on the rock and addressed the audience, “On the first strike of sexual assault we have come to a conclusion. There was no agreement.” Cain, confused, let it be known, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mot looked at Anat with pursed lips, Anat closed in on Cain and asked him to turn around and close his eyes, “No agreement is good.” She whispered to him. As Cain followed Anat’s instruction Mot surveyed the group with a show of hands on how safe the audience felt with Cain staying around them. When the audience vote had been counted Anat tapped Cain on the shoulder and he opened his eyes and turned back around. Mot sat back down on the rock and the two conferred again out of Cain’s earshot. After the second conference had ended Mot stood up and addressed the audience again, “This person,” She pointed to Cain, “Has shown a disregard for our values. However, no immediate threat can be discerned, and we will instead strongly advise him to leave at the next collection point.” Mot stopped and spoke down to Cain, “That’s a non-optional condition.” Mot carried on, “For the rest of his stay he will be under strict orders not to engage verbally with anyone except the advocate.” Mot pointed at Anat and looked down at Cain once more, “Failure to meet these requirements will result in his expulsion.” Anat thanked the rock for its leniency and kind wisdom. She approached Cain, “That’s it?” Anat assured him, “Yes.” The group dispersed, “No head-banging today?” Mot slid into the conversation, “Perhaps tomorrow.” She wasn’t funny.

Mot’s verdict should have meant isolation for Cain, but, relative to what had come before, it meant the opposite. The wider group went from not trusting him to not trusting him, but Anat’s obligation had led to her getting closer to him during the daily trudge. Cain complained to her about his legs aching and the ground being boggy, “Everyone’s legs ache,” And, “The rain makes the ground difficult to walk on but it also makes the grass grow, helps the plants sprout fruit.” Cain moaned about the Sun going behind a cloud, “It’s saving energy for the dawn.” Down the line Cain asked Anat about the collection point he’d be dumped on, “It’s an opportunity.” A popular opportunity? “Probably no.” Cain got in a tizzy. There was a big conspiracy. A humongous ploy. They were going to wash their hands of him and it was as good as beating him over the head. “You’ll find your niche. Perhaps, it’s possible, you’ll even have some fun there.” Fun? A fine thing to bring up. Fun? “Would it be better to meet new people paranoid and miserable?” You’re alright Anat. You’re the one I hope doesn’t get eaten.

When he wasn’t being moody Cain played games with Anat. She would have to tell him any features coming up over the horizon. To be fair she got it correct more often than not. Impressed, Cain eventually asked her how she did it, “Uhm, I don’t know, I guess I just remember our route. I’ve travelled it a lot.” But there has to be some trick to it? “Let’s see. From a young age, I suppose, I always wanted to know what birds see. Travelling the ground there are so many obstacles, but in the air the obstacles melt away and only curiosity is left. When I joined the group they fostered that in me. And here I am.”

Cain asked her if there were others, “Other what?” Other groups of women? “Sure, but there’s only one as far as I’m concerned.” He asked if he could travel with them, “You can do what you want. If they’ll have you it’s their business. Still, well, it’s not my place to say.” Cain urged her to say, “I don’t know how many you’ll find out there. This way up the coast is fine, but the other way? Whatever, I’m concentrated on this group.” Cain tried to get more information out of her but she shut him down, “The wider world isn’t something I have control over. You should focus on the things you can do something about.”

Closer to his departure Cain asked Anat what would happen to the group when he left, “When you leave? The group will disband and melt into the soil.” Hilarious. But, what? What actually happens? “Everything has its time.” Go on. “We act with the trees. Down the leaves shimmy and off they must trot. Some of us stay behind, like the bare branch, ready for the next cycle.” A core group remained together through the winter months, everyone else had to find collection points before that. Anat didn’t specify where, but they had places to hold out, safe from the cold, safe from marauders. Anat explained to Cain that, “The best fight is one you avoid. But we have women around who can defend themselves if that’s necessary.” Cain didn’t have any argument with her first point and sped up his trudge to catch her on the second, “The short cuts?” Anat shrugged, “Maybe.” Interesting.

Anat informed Cain, “Only a few more nights to go.” Cain looked on the bright side, “Finally some meat again, hey? Life’s a pisser without death.” Anat chuckled through a grimace, “What?” She told him what, “Even the sight of a dead animal makes me feel ill. Snatching life from a fellow creature so as to gorge yourself on its flesh and entrails, disgusting. No, scratch that, it’s a madness, a blood madness, it humiliates me that so many are so enthralled by it.” They didn’t even eat any of the small critters, Cain had been on a diet of fruits, seeds, and nuts the whole time. Misery. “Better than nothing.” Cain wasn’t complaining about getting fed, but, listen, “Go on.” If humans are animals, “Yes,” And animals eat meat, “Okay,” Then why shouldn’t humans do it too? “Here we hold ourselves to higher standards.”

When his time came he went without fuss. Ashes were dumped on to his head and mushed into his hair, which Cain had been growing out since the trial. Nobody else joined them as Cain left the group and Anat escorted him the rest of the way. She left him with a fire, an oak leaf, a small supply of food, and directions on where to get more, “Just in case.” Then she departed. Cain watched her leave until she vanished. Cain was alone, only the rocks to communicate with now, the rocks that surrounded him on all sides. “Opportunity.”

Ah, one more thing. Gee, I almost forgot. It’s probably not important, but let’s get the facts straight. It was by pure serendipity that Cain had met the group of women. He heard them playing drums and singing through a valley and followed the noise as the Sun was setting. Maybe it interested him that they were a large group of women. Maybe there were things that were intended. He hoped to meet her in the group. Who? The woman that had greeted him with her essence in his previous unconscious state. For a brief moment he had imagined it was Anat. For a brief moment it had been Yam. He imagined her accepting him that night and pressing herself against him like the tide presses against the shore. Maybe when he called her over he was in the rip tide. But it was obvious, at least when she started crying, that she wasn’t her. Out of the multitude of women there, none of them were. She was still out there. Caged and wild.