Balls Capone

I became aware in a small dimly lit room, I was a short, stumpy, little man adorned in oily brown furs living in the shadows of a giant glimmering white castle, far back in some ancient time.  It was gloomy, dirty, and muddy.  The air stunk of manure and body oder.  I pretty much lived in what could be called a stable by todays standards, but hey, it was home. 

I was lying on my meager bed, made of straw, dirty wool blankets and stuffed burlap sacks, ah, the comforts of home.  I was staring at a knot hole in the wall across from my bed, thinking about the tree that the wood came from.  What had it seen?  How old was it when it was cut down?  Imagine all the things that knot hole has seen over its years. 

I was spacing in and out of consciousness, half asleep, half awake.  Then a flash went through my mind, it was a clear picture of something very important.  I jumped up from my greasy nest and ran to a small cluttered desk in the corner,

"Where are they, where are they?", I muttered to myself as I rifled around the messy desk and it's numerous junk filled drawers. 

What was I looking for?  I kind of laughed to myself because I wasn't really sure at all, but I knew I'd know it when I saw it.  Then, in the bottom drawer of the desk I found them, a set of brilliantly colored pencils and 3 tiny silver lamps.  The pencils shown off a radiant glow and fired rays of colorful light into every corner of the room.  The lamps just seemed like old oil lamps, but I knew they were very special.  I grabbed my supplies and hurried to the other side of my hovel,

"Good, Good!  It is time!", I muttered to myself as I pulled the cover off of a giant white canvas sitting in the corner. 

I then lit the 3 special lamps, they were filled with a strange silver oil which put off the light of three modern studio lamps!  It really lit up my musty old shack.  Now I was prepared, I pulled a small stool over from the desk and began to draw with the colorful pencils I had found.  My hands moved almost automatically, because anyone who knows me in real life knows I can't even draw a stick figure without blowing it, so this was very different.  I was creating the picture I had seen flash in my mind.  I began to realize that this was my job in this ancient village, I was the vision man, the seer, the scrivener, and I was to foretell the future for my people and my king.

My hands moved magically as I moved from color to color, stroke to stroke, line to line, knowing exactly where and what to do.  It felt incredible, it was like the feeling I get when I play guitar and it just flows effortlessly,

“Remember to breathe, remember to breath”, I told myself as my hands moved with great precision.

Time now had no meaning, I had no idea how long I had been doing this for, hours?  Days?  Months?   I did not know.  But before I knew it, I knew I was finished.  I opened one of the lamps and poured the silver oil upon the canvas.  It seemed to serve as a protective layer and locked the image in place for all time.  The oil also created a brilliant glow and the work of art now had it's own light source.  Imagine a painting that glows and illuminates itself and can light the corner of a room like a neon sign, it was greatly satisfying to look at, so much that it was hard to stop gazing upon it, it was so very pleasing to the eye.  But the image I had drawn was not so pleasing and very eerie.

It had that old time Renaissance look about it, like a giant Tarot card, or a prophetic scene from the work of Nostradamus.  There was a king standing in his great hall before his royal throne, he was adorned in beautiful flowing red robes, shining gold chains, and a beautiful bejeweled crown.  Yet, unbeknownst to the king, on either side of him were two smokey black skeletons who seemed to whisper in his ears.

His arm was raised in commandment to some servants below who were kneeling and toiling for their king.  With chisels in hand, they were making some sort of tablets with ancient writing upon them. 

But wait, no, they were not writing, but editing the text upon these stone tablets.  I knew what they were, they were the original 10 commandments themselves and this king, thinking himself so mighty a man, was editing and adding to them to fit his own will and desires, like some ancient corrupt HOA President amending the original declaration of conditions, covenants, and restrictions how they see fit.

A hallway ran down the middle of the great hall leading to many doors, one door sat wide open, guards stationed one either side of the entry way.  Inside you could see a room full of great treasures, overflowing with gold, silver, jewels, and precious items of immense value.  The kind took great pleasure in displaying his massive wealth to all, although he would die before parting with a single coin.  Upon the other side of the hallway was another door of iron bars, although closed you could still see the harem of large breasted women, some breast feeding babies, downtrodden and staring longingly for freedom out the barred door of the room.  Above, large stained glass windows craft intricate pictures of the king in his many battle scenes and scenes of great victory, but always, they only ever of himself, no one else at his side.  Great multicolored tapestries adorned the stone walls with a golden silhouette of the kings head. 

At the very end of the hall was a great wooden door, lined with shining steel, cracked open slightly, and the sounds and faces of the sick, suffering and poor could be heard and seen.  They begged for help from their great king.  Then the image of guards rushing toward the door to quickly dispatch them, for the king could not be bothered with such trifles, as he was seeking to dethrone God himself. 

At the floor level of the throne room sat semi-circular barred windows leading to what must have been a dungeon.  Black skeletal arms floated like smoke from the bars towards the legs of the fair nobles surrounding the king.  But they dared not move, for to anger the king surely meant your head.  Their faces all contorted into an uncomfortable grimace as the wafting smoke like fingers danced upon their ankles.

Above, three skulls were adorned into the great chandelier that hung from the ceiling, strung up with stings of shining diamonds, each skull had different colored jewels in the eye sockets.  The colors of Red, Blue, and Green watched from above, and peered out from atop the king like a surveillance system watching the inmates of a prison.  There was great fear here, an sweeping anxiety of impending doom, and it foretold of dark things to come.

I considered not showing it to the people at all, but I had no choice, for it was my duty and once I unveiled my creation in the great hall of the king, everyone from the bravest of men to the cackling crones froze in terror.  There was no escaping, the image told all without a word.  The king, still a man of valor and good conscience collapsed backwards and crumpled into his throne, head in hands.  How did it come to this? 

Here, I would try to comfort him as he wept, for he knew that which would come to pass.  We all did.