“Metamorphosis III”

     “Mine, mine, mine”

(fruit bat drinking orange juice.com)

—

METAMORPHOSIS III

Now a widow, Laura’s life took on different dimensions. The house was on the market, and she decided to travel. She thought of spelunking, exploring caves, climbing mountains.

Pouring over brochures, she heard a scratching sound. She unlatched the second story window and allowed Bart Batkowski to flutter in.

“I wish you would use the door like a normal person. You will draw attention this way.”

“Laura, do you forget what I am? Besides a co-conspirator in murder?”

Laura signed. Harold was dead, gone, Bart now sharing her bed. But it wasn’t the bed where the action happened. It was the damn closet and sex was gymnastic at best. Though Laura had known a transformation, it wasn’t complete. The angle of penetration was off. Bart would insist on hanging from his heels, and all attempts at necking gave Laura a stiff one; neck, that is.

Since Bart said his DNA required the closet hang, they compromised with a vertical 69 position. Bart would embrace her with his wings wrapped tightly around them, and Laura would get comfortable with her pubis level at Bart’s nose.

It was a strange mating, but when Bart snored it sent Laura to heaven.

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2010-2017

“Metamorphosis”

 
 “Maine Shore”, watercolor, Jane Kohut-Bartels, 2006

“Metamorphosis” is a series of short stories.  They are all related to the characters Bart (a bat…a Fruit Bat) and Laura, a woman who is transforming (for some unknown reason) into a bat.  I tried to write a horror story, but it became a comedy.  I have no idea why.

Also, I have received some correspondence since I posted these two pieces (so far) of “Metamorphosis”, and some readers express confusion as to ‘the Lady Nyo (or Jane) they knew as a writer: a poet, and not one to write  ‘this kind’ of work.

For me, the greatest thing about becoming a writer, and working at it seriously, is that you expand your abilities, interests and horizon.  It is confusing to those who want to stick you into a ‘box’ …something they can understand and are not uncomfortable in the reading.

That’s not advice I would listen to,  and one does get a lot of flack about  work when you ‘step out of conceived roles’.

I believe strongly  a writer needs to write broadly, that’s if they can.  I can, and I intend to continue to push my limits.  I leave it up to individual readers as to whether they like or even read my work, but in the end…I write for myself.

Lady Nyo

–

Part One 

Standing at the window, Laura was lost in thought. The crispness of  autumn purified the air at dusk.  The moon rose, the sky a pale lavender, that peculiar time of evening when both sun and moon balanced the sky. 

Swifts and swallows flitted over chimneys and rooftops, wheeling like tiny black crescents.  As the moon rose, the swifts were replaced with bats speeding like rockets in front of the window.  She could hear the sound of their twittering as they flew by, sharing the day’s gossip.

“Laura!”  Her husband’s harsh voice cut into her mind. 

“I’m coming” she called back. But she didn’t move.

Peering out the window her pupils opened wide. She saw strange things. Veins in the leaves, mounds of disturbed soil from moles far below. The moon so close! The night beckoned and she felt she could fly out the window and join it.

She wondered what was happening.  Under her gown she felt thin membranes grow beneath her arms. Transparent tissue joined with two small hooks on her elbows.  Her breasts shrunk to nothing, only large nipples remaining. Her sex seemed to shift backwards, her vulva misplaced.

 “I’m coming along nicely,” she whispered.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2010, 2012

“That was a buzz kill….”

or so I heard from a couple of people about “Metamorphosis”

…No, no, it really gets funny but you have to have the ‘murder most foul’ up front.

THEN the comedy starts…..silly Dominant Bat (Fruit Bat actually, and then a kajira bat….mouthy and so much smarter than the Dom… than

Well, we have to laugh sometimes.  And too  many people take themselves too damn seriously.  I know.

So #2 gets posted, because we all need laughter in this economy.

Also, my techie son and I are working on a podcast for this blog of some poems from “A Seasoning of Lust”…suggested by good friend and marvelous writer, RG.

(http://www.remittancegirl.com)  This is a blog really worth the effort of reading…everyday.

Lady Nyo

METAMORPHOSIS II

“Laura, come to bed!  What are you doing out there?”

Laura was doing nothing.  Just drinking tea and looking out the window, humming to herself.

She had lost weight, grown taciturn, seemed sexless.  Harold, confused, was getting on her last nerve.

Laura entered the bedroom. Harold, bald and boring, glared at her.

“What is wrong with you? Didn’t you hear me?”

*Oh yes, thought Laura.  Thirty years of marriage doesn’t stop up your ears, just your mouth. And your heart.*

Laura opened the closet to hang up her robe.  Inside, on a hanger, was a giant bat, it’s dull black wings wrapped tightly, hanging upside down.  Laura shoved it aside, looking for a hanger for her robe.  She got into bed and turned off the light.

The police looked at the carnage on the bed.  Blood everywhere, a real massacre. Something was wrong, damned if they could figure it out.  The wife, mute, had to be in shock. Weird batty woman.

Laura, her gown bloody, drinking tea, looked out the window.  Under the tree was a big dark man, standing with his arms wrapped around his chest. He looked up and nodded.

Laura smiled and winked.

Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2008, 2009