Writing Jam #1: The Dance, The Circuit, The Irony of It All

It proudly glowed against the dark. Orange in hue, paler arms caressed it, following its movements in a sensual, almost dirty dance. The hair at its head was flicking and spiking. At the core, a deceptively cooler blue hue burned hot. A violent, do-not-put-skin-here kind of hot.

The skin melted faster than ice on lava. Its vegetal and chemical organs inside churned hurriedly. It let out a faint, crispy sound.  Smoke raised in protest, quickly sucked through a narrow, deep tunnel-like tube filled with cells, and moist.

Down it went, finding a complex network of smaller tubes and chambers. A prickly molecule detached and found its way through to an alveolus, already full of a mixed population of other molecules. One dark-colored neighbor went and stuck to the unnaturally-blackened walls, rendering them even darker. The prickly one got fetched by some round-shaped apparatus and transported through another tube, filled with a stream of similar devices.

Tar comfortably stayed its butt in the lung while its friends coursed through the rest of the body. As the blood pumped through the brain, Nicotine went all giddy and started playing with the grey matter.

Formaldehyde spread its embalming magic through each and every organ it crossed, while Acetone and its accomplice Benzene played “Who can melt the most stuff up”. Cells proved an efficient target.

The heart pumped in a slower, sloppier pace.

The smoke reversed its way back out in all its Carbon Monoxide glory. It formed a ring shape.

The human smiled at his temporary creation. He pulled a couple of other puffs, putting his pack back in his white vest.

“Well,  I got a lung cancer surgery to get done. See you at lunch.”