Monster In View
Ron KoppelbergerIn retrospect the returning drama came to the absolute bondage of the beholder and his father’s creation. The counterpart to the monster seized the moment with his teeth, in anger and pounding rage. He tottered near the edge of the stage, flesh melding with flesh and a thousand eyes of polished glass. The observer continued to rage, “Kill the beast, damnit kill this abomination!” The monster paused for a moment staring at the small man dancing in the isle, screaming fervently. The creator’s son said a prayer as he watched the pair. My father he thought from the wings, god how can it be father, how?
The monster opened it’s jagged sharp toothed maw and screamed at the heckling stranger……”ARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH!” a spray of spittle flew from it’s mouth hitting the stomping man in the face. The stage lights brightened for a moment and the angry spectator drew closer to the beast, the creation of loose chromosomes and blood, the blood of a dead man. The beast gathered it’s visceral substances and reached out to the man. The man recoiled and screamed as he fell to the floor, his bowls loosening and unconsciousness overwhelming him.
His father appeared from the far side of the stage and with gentle care escorted his creation back to it’s confinement. Two men in white lab coats came and removed the unconscious man.
He thought about his father and the monster for a moment and he realized they were both defined by the wont of the man who had collapsed, the human response, the recoiling terror of humanity in the face of the unknown.
The lights dimmed and he left the auditorium for the safety of the city streets and the familiar shadows that lurked there. The sky shone indigo and the evening said carry on young man the monsters are in abeyance to the whims of your presence, without your witness they are not.