Paul was cereal: part VII

[this box of Count Chocula was opened on 1 February]

Paul was turning towards the sound but a forming fog blocked all that was behind. He could see nothing but whiteness all round, snowy ground blending into the surrounding flightless cloud, papers above flapping, the grassy island he stood on the only noticeable colour. & the bird, rested now  hopping, hopping, hopping a little further with its wings warming up, & then fluttering upwards into the heavy air.

 

A streak of orange light leaped at the flipping, but it was already to high, moving upwards into the cluster. Both Paul & the cat stood tranced & looking upward as the bird began pulling at papers,

 

each sheet falling in a buzzing alarm. Sound taking over all sight ringing RInging RINging, Paul walk up, RINGing, Paul wake up, RING ING

 

What is this racket? Has the bird escaped paper piles or is it just preparing a nest?

 

Tune in tomorrow for Part VIII of “Paul was cereal”

 

Paul was cereal: part IV

[this box of Fruit Loops was opened on 1 February]

Paul was a certain stillness to the woods in the afternoon; the sound of snow melting, dripping, dropping off trees; the rhythm of walking & boots cutting through the crusty white forest floor; the overuse of sem;colons; a tune in breathing & stepping & breathing & scrolling & breathing.

 

Paul had seen the bird trying to fly out of the wood, but on each attempt it clinked into the ceiling. A chiming connection of glass on glass, echoing. The cardinal couldn’t climb out of the expansive, tangled, everyday forest. It resigned flight & landed snowbound.

 

While Paul approached the downed flyer, the cat appeared. Paul stopped still. His stomach ached & his mouth watered as it always did before he threw up. The cat looked up & then Paul unleashed his terror in a scream.   

 

Will Paul’s yelling scare the cat away? Don’t we already know what happens because this section was a flashback & in the current action sequence Paul was carrying the bird in his hands while running in terror?

 

Tune in tomorrow for Part V of “Paul was cereal”

Paul was cereal: part III

[this box of Rasin Bran was opened on 1 February]

Paul was afraid of cats more than he was afraid of birds. He wasn’t really afraid of birds, in fact he liked watching them fly & feed at the stands his mother had set out in their small yard.

 

It was his grandmother’s cat, Tuesday, that had terrorized him. Paul didn’t remember all the tail pulling & target practice he had used the cat for as these memories had been batted out of his brain when Tuesday jumped onto his head.

 

Tuesday was also fond of lunging in a wrestler’s grapple round Paul’s shins, finishing the maneuver with a firm bite to draw blood on more than one occasion.

 

In the halls of his grandmother’s house Paul always moved with caution; flashbacks dragging on for paragraphs as he checked between the decorative crocheted tea cozies & tissue holders or piles of puzzles tied up with twine.

 

Will “Paul was” ever be “Paul is”? What happened with that former feline pursuing Paul?

 

 Tune in tomorrow for Part IV of “Paul was cereal.”

 

 

Paul was cereal: part II

[this box of Cheerios was opened on 1 February]

 

Paul was run right into the fear into patchy orange toothy fear into yelling over the mew of mountain cat into open white snow into cupped hands around heart do not crush the bird do not crush the bird into slalom through tall trunks into walk up walk up walk up into when will the papers open up & let sky through let a clear hole be formed for flight from this white enclosure into out of breath into slowing down into panting, into walking, foot into foot, up.

 

 Has Paul eluded the wild cat? What is your favorite book?

 

Tune in tomorrow for Part III of “Paul was cereal.”

Paul was cereal: part I

Paul was up, must walk up. He was walking through a crowded overloaded space that, due to the abundant & glowing white light, felt open; reflections & half rainbows flitted over trunks, brown boxed stacks reached skyward & expanded in branchless bursts with thin, frail leaves; small paper fragments clustering to obscure a sky view, yet passing through them always, light.

 

Up, I must walk up.

 

Paul continued moving & shifting through tenses. His small footprints dotting a path backward in snow. Mittened hands cupped together, the tiny bird warm in his fabric nest. & then, in front of him an enormous beast stalking head down with teeth glistening. Gutteral growling, slow paces toward Paul.

 

Will Paul be a treat for the treacherous creature? What is your favorite colour?

 

Tune in tomorrow for Part II of “Paul was cereal.”