The Worst Thing

The worst thing I've ever done I did when I was eight. I had the purist rage as a child My hatred was infinite and awesome and yet strangely full of pity.

My parents and teasing brothers were so cruel that they would make me leave the house clutching a magnifying glass in whitened fist. I would capture grasshoppers and while pinning them helplessly between my fingers I would focus the suns power and bring it to bear in all its neutrality on the unlidded multicelled eyeballs of my victims. There would be a whisp of vapour and a sudden darkening to black of a once funcioning insect head.

But it was the struggle and the presumed pain that was my object because you see I wanted other things to suffer too.

As a grown man, I still find myself suffering and I wonder if perhaps I have found a part of me that is that insect caught in that instant of focused light Head-hot and struggling.

© MARTIN EWEN 1998

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