We Found Magdalene

We Found Magdalene

   Shades of green crowded a salmon-colored sky. The leaves shifted from the wind and the weight of animals that skittered amongst them. A soft glow illuminated the shadows they cast.

     One curious boy held a previous illumination now pinched and sticky between his fingers.

      “I thought Baba said fireflies don’t come out ‘till the fancy seasons”.

      “They don’t, so stop killing them”. In protest, he dragged The Little Murderer away from the glow.

      “It’s not my fault they’re so tiny”. The Little Murderer shoved The Savior off of him.

      “It’s your fault they’re dead!”

      “They’re not even real. Probably aliens Magmag cooked up from her witch pot.”

      “Please,” The Savior crossed his arms, “they’re not aliens, they’re probably hibernating. You know, the thing birds do”.

      “Ohh…” The Little Murderer smacked The Savior. “Fireflies aren’t birds, stupid”.

      “And you say your mom’s not a whore, but, here we are”. Said The Savior.

      “Shut it. Or, I'll summon Magmag to curse you with Sepsis”.

      “I’ll summon Magdalene to set your attitude straight”.

     The Little Murderer stretched his tone to an obnoxious pitch. “Magdalene!” He grimaced. “What? You think you’re all fancy?”

      “I’m proper. Stop calling her Magmag, she’s not your friend”.

     “I’m proper, eugh,” The Nightmare lilted his voice again, and The Savior's eye twitched. He kicked him.

      “I’ll show you, Liam, that these aren’t aliens”. He trailed off into the green, with no one following behind, because The Nightmare, or Liam, was hunched over groaning.

      “Where…” He inhaled sharply. “Wh..” He coughed. “Fuck you”.

      “Fuck you, too”.