Salt

Abomination of civilized nature
The product of my own doing
Portrait of a monster.

It all happened so fast; I still find it hard to recall what exactly led to this hideous transformation. The details are so blurred, so obscured by what I thought was such a short period of time. I still remember the man I was before; the unimportant skipper of a fish trawler, spending every day on the water to return home at dusk and enjoy the company of my children.

So little is left
Just fragments of a story that now
Ends in this furious confusion
Hungry for every inane detail.

That day—yes, I recall some of that day now. I had craved salt for some reason, a craving so strong I considered leaping into the sea and taking some gulps. I could think then. Who was it that stopped me? I have forgotten his name…but not his fate. In my cursing fury I killed him, shattering his bones with a steel rod, gutting him with a hatchet. Why did no one else stop me?

I'm losing it again
The memory is gone but the results remain
Images of a beached ship are fluttering in my mind's eye
What does this all mean?
Salt, I need salt.

Home, I needed to find home. No…no it was salt. I was looking for salt. In the street children gawked at me and women shrieked in horror. Why? What did I do? The fish, yes the fish, I remember them. They were packed with salt. I dove into them like a gull. There was blood and gore everywhere. Were they fish? No, no they weren't. What were they? They had salt. I need salt.

Flashes
Flashes and bangs and torturous whizzes
Someone was trying to kill me
What for is gone
What is important is that I defended myself
I protected my family.

White boxes and red-blue undulations, metal rockets going this way and that, ripping apart my home. My wife was screaming, begging them to stop. Or was she begging me? My son had salt. I needed salt. I needed salt. I needed salt. I took what I needed. They kicked in the door, they broke into my home and so I defended myself. Before I even drew near they screamed and panicked and tried to run. Why did I catch up so quickly? How did I kill them all so easily? I don't understand. I'm just a man. I'm still a man. I'm still a man. I'm a man who needs salt—I took what I needed.

Fires and shrieks
Still pop in and out of my ears
I remember running away
I had saved my family and I had taken my salt
They wouldn't follow me
Would they?
Safe in the forest. Safe in the salt.

Hiding in the trees is easy. I did it for a long time—though I can't say how long. It could have been a day or it could have been a year or it could have been a hundred years. It was long enough for me. For me or for us? Who am I again? I don't need salt anymore. All I need are people; they have all the salt in the world. They are happy to give it. Little girls are always the nicest. They give me greasy, salty food and I do appreciate the gesture.

But it isn't enough
I must take their bodies
Dig into the skin and take the salt
Salt, salt, salt, salt,
How kind of them to offer up all that salt
They can't even struggle
All there is, is a little squeak
I can tolerate a squeak for some salt.

Where is my wife again? I think she's still at home. I hope she's safe. She had plenty of salt, too, though she didn't want to give it up. Imagine that—your spouse not offering you just a little of their salt. Of course I still took it, and it didn't do her any harm. She just went to sleep. She slept right on the floor. Why did she shriek so much? So much more than the others. It was as if she didn't know me anymore—as if she didn't trust me with her salt.

That day on the water
I think I remember it now
I think I remember what has sent me to the forest
What has made me hunger for so much salt
Just a spot of light
Like the sun but without the pain
Only a slight shock
A few seconds and a convulsion
What was it?

I don't like the trees anymore. I think it is time for me to go home. To see if my home is still there, to see if I can still take my boat on the water. Is it the one that was beached? I wonder if my crew is still out there. I'll go home. I'll grab some salt from the townsfolk; they won't mind. They're nice people. I'm sure they'll be happy to make up for when they tried to break into my home. I should give some salt to my son. I miss him. It's time to go home.

My memory is fading again…