Saturday, April 30, 2016

IPA

IPA

            The bubbles are popping across my organs. I feel their little tendrils probe my veins in stretching, writhing movements as the bitter taste tickles the back of my mouth. Already I am reaching for the cup; the liquid parasite that I know will only destroy me further. But its roots are in my brain, whispering sweet songs in furthest parts of my mind. With another swallow I fall to the floor, stomach aching as it churns around, looking for away to escape the acid.
            There is a rupture and I scream. The cup is looking at me, a million living things with incalculable eyes looks at me from the other side of the crystal. I shouldn’t have drank it, I knew what it could do but the prospects were simply too sweet. At the time, when I had discovered the recipe in an old alchemy book I had thought I had discovered either a miracle drug or a million-dollar recipe.
            But I am drinking a homunculus.
            It is growing inside me, polluting my being and spilling corroding my bones. My femurs are the first to go, dissolving as teeth and branches pull them apart into white fragments floating around in a red pool. I know I will never walk again, and whisper prayers that my mother taught me when I was two, recalling every memory I have stacked away in the hopes that somewhere in my mind I am ready to defend myself.
            But it knows what I am doing. My eyes become golden. Brown. Then black. There is a slipping sound, flaming pain as my hands reach out to try to find my eyes. They touch the roots…sticky with what I know is my own blood and I try to scream. Something slithers up from behind my throat.
            The new limb is limp. Then it pulls, slides out and wraps itself around something cold. If I drink the last of it I will be lost forever. I move my arms, but the roots hold me back, snaking around and holding me still while the long tongue brings the glass closer to my mouth. The cool glass touches my nose, I can smell the hops and the fizzing malts which had lead me to believe I created something special.
            My only regret is that I was right.

            The last sip is the best thing I have ever tasted. 

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