Bodies

by ob

The bodies filled the streets, and people stopped and stared. There were bodies everywhere. They were all going about their business, just like that.

You were there somewhere, walking around.

Some of the bodies were considered remarkable. Some of the bodies were considered obscene. Some of the bodies were considered too big, or too small, or too old.

Some of the bodies were not considered at all.

Some of the bodies had featured in stories and in films and paintings and photographs. Some of the bodies were spectacular in their athleticism, or their youth, or their sexual attractiveness. Some of the bodies were spectacular because of what they had survived.

Some of the bodies were notable largely as a result of how they looked in clothes, or their ability to dance, or the comfort and/or pleasure they gave others, or the comfort and/or pleasure they gave their owners.

Some of the bodies were practical. Some of the bodies were terrifying in their rage.

Some of the bodies had given birth. Some of the bodies had been pregnant but had never given birth. Some of the bodies had never been pregnant. It took all sorts.

Some of the bodies had climbed mountains and fought in wars. Some of the bodies had been brutalised. Some of the bodies had committed crimes, had been punished or had got away with it, had paid their debt to society or had not.

Some of the bodies were heroic.

Some of the bodies were sexually forward, knew what they wanted, didn’t see why they shouldn’t get it – and who was going to argue with that?

Some of bodies followed people down the street, swaggered, were intimidating.

Some of the bodies got into fights. Some of the bodies regularly got drunk. Some of the bodies took recreational and non-recreational drugs.

Some of the bodies tried not to take up space, tried to make themselves invisible, were sometimes successful. Some of the bodies had their reasons.

Some of the bodies had won awards. Some of the bodies had built interesting and challenging careers. Some of the bodies had been in car crashes, had survived cancer. Some of the bodies had cured diseases and saved lives.

Some of the bodies were terrible dancers.

Some of the bodies could run for miles.

Some of the bodies had had poems written about them, had inspired all sorts of awful songs. Some of the bodies owned cars and flats and houses, and took more than two foreign holidays a year.

Some of the bodies were French.

Some of the bodies were so new that their owners didn’t know what to do with them. They staggered around, bumping into things and falling over, and everyone was delighted. It reminded people of better, simpler times.

Some of the bodies had competed in round the world yacht races, had swum the English Channel, had been attacked by wild animals. Some of the bodies were the subject of territorial disputes.

Some of the bodies belonged to members of the audience.

Some of the bodies had sworn vengeance.

Some of the bodies were in love, and it was great! They had a spring in their step, felt like they were walking on air. Some of the bodies were in love and it was torture and all they wanted was for it to be over. Most of the bodies were, or had been, loved by someone or other, somewhere, at some point.

Some of the bodies would eventually die in avalanches, or plane crashes, or during routine operations, or of wasting diseases, or in overloaded boats. Some of them would die in bed at a ripe old age, surrounded by their immediate family.

Some of the bodies would be missed more than others.

Some of the bodies would be used to rob banks or post-offices later that day, and it wouldn’t be the first time neither.

Some of the bodies were already on their third cup of coffee. Some of the bodies were all fingers and thumbs.

Some of the bodies could build rockets, could work out how to put people on the moon or Mars. Some of the bodies had a net worth running into the billions, for all the good it did anyone.

Some of the bodies had travelled thousands of miles to get here.

And that was just today.