The Organ-Grinder and The Reckless Dancer by Tane Wairapa
The aged monkey stood askew, leaning on the door frame. A burnt out cigarette dropping silted black dust across his hairy chest. He sauntered over to the bed, almost tripping over a broken theremin on the floor. His dark brown eyes sunken into his skull, pirouetting back and forth, scanning for any sign of life.
A woman – a bog-standard beauty, blonde and buxom – lay across his bed in a troubled sleep. She sniffed and twitched like a dog dreaming about running. This bitch too dreamt of running. Running far away from her sordid circus life and the tyrannous rule of the dictatorial ringleader.
The chimp stroked his weathered old hand across her pure and innocent face. If he had evolved the necessary capacity for speech he would tell her these things.
“You have always been and always will be the woman for me.”
“I wish I could take you away from here, take you home.”
“You deserve so much more than I can give you.”
His lips curl back and he plants a wet kiss, as heavy as he dares, upon her untouched brow. He heads toward the door, taking a final pain-stricken glance at her before drawing it to an uneasy close.
He will return to the jungle tomorrow.
***
About the Author
Tane Wairapa
Born: North Shore, Auckland, New Zealand
Now Resides: Whangarei, New Zealand
Bio: Wairapa is a freelance writer/film-maker of Maori descent, born and raised in Aotearoa (New Zealand). His first published work was at the age of six, with a poem he wrote about a grumpy dinosaur with a broken leg. Since then, he has had a fiery passion for writing and story-telling and has had work published in Warp, Continuum and Dustbin, which are all periodicals based in New Zealand.
***
image by raven9999.
