She Moved In Worlds - Part 1

By JP Mihok

Alone in the forbidden lands, where trails' last traces trailed away... Nancy embarks on an unintended adventure. Part 1 of 5 of a narrative in verse. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: JP Mihok
• Release date: Nov 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9780994030818

Book preview

She Moved In Worlds

Part One

By J.Pierre Mihok

Chapter One

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"Her hair was long, her foot was light,

And her eyes were wild."

(La Belle Dame Sans Merci - Keats)

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Nancy, under skies' blue,

her clothes new, with white shoes,

set forth along the avenue,

so early in the morning.

She trod the winding ways and down

the sleeping suburbs of the town

to slumbered, sunlit city ways,

in golden haze of morning.

So bright in early light there shone

the robots tending hedge and lawn.

She gloried in the morning rays,

which stormed her gaze with flowers.

She turned up one, another street,

avoiding any risk to meet

the City-utility fleet.

Where buildings lofted towers,-

and windows glittered in the sun

(where window-washers' race was run

late in the night) she went. She yawned—

it seemed she'd gone for hours.

A mirrored car slid up beside.

The nearer door swung open wide;

the grinning driver's glasses glint.

Hey, lady, can I give a hint?

No, pal, she said, not breaking stride.

Hey! She did not raise her eyes.

Chaff! she answered, mocking, wise.

"Don't you care a straw for me?

I cannot, then, happy be!"

Buzz off! She bumped his door away;

went on with undiverted sway—

her walk to show her watcher spurned,

her whole demeanour unconcerned.

He ruminated after her,

his eyes beneath the shades obscure.

Finally, shrugged, and tugged the door.

His motor roared. His rubber burned.

She saw him go, with careless stare.

She flicked the sunlight off her hair,

pretending an uncaring air -

but had there been a touch of fear?

Into a shadowed alley near,

which wafted cooler, spicy air,

and echoes and a scent of beer,

she ducked—escaping from the clear—

Two snoring parties sprawled the floor —

leftovers from the night before.

She stepped across them to a stair

where stacks of boxes hid a door.

She slipped inside and threaded through

the teetering crates, and eased into

an empty-echoed shop arcade,

not open yet this early.

Unnatural trees adorned the space,

in greenhouse-artificial grace;

here trapped birds clung at height, or flittered

to peck at unenticing litter.

Old potpourri perfumed the air;

A waft of coffee brewed somewhere.

The highlights of delightful wares

in lightless windows loomed.

She trod the tiles, the stores between,

reflections racing across the scene;

past a pensioner sound asleep,

and through glass doors into the street.

Shopmen paused, unrolling awnings;

paunchy cops surveyed her, yawning.

Taxi drivers, all bleary-eyed,

lowered their papers as she went by.

The building-rows in gold light glowed;

the trees uprose to arch the road,

then, suddenly, past cafes, there gleamed

the University, grey on green.

Great stone buildings slumbered, dreaming,

walls of windows dully gleaming;

never a tower white and shining,

only the domes at height repining.

There, swift along the well-learned ways

she moved, to leave them 'hind her,

to where the bushes cast a haze of green,

nor eyes could find her.

The sun shot trees, its beams her stars

to guide her feet towards her car.

She tripped ahead through dappled shade

where none could see her change;

emerged beyond the verge of lawn

to sunlight unrestrained.

She swung her purse and swung her hips;

licked last night's kisses from her lips.

It was a new Today.

Last night

fled as a ghost before its light.

Chapter 2

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Art thou gone in haste? - Anon

Her car, in the lane, in the shade from the sun,

had figures around it. She broke to a run.

The ragged youths around it stood, set to retreat

as Nancy drew nearer.

On hammering feet

she stormed up the pavement. Not looking about,

she bent down to seize and pull bodily out

another who'd slithered to meddle beneath.

Now, scram, you! she ordered, with heavings of breath.

They scattered. The only one not to depart

approached with his phone. Like a kick in her heart

she recognized whose was the face in his fist....

whose threatening mutters she quickly dismissed.

But still the youth lingered, as if to impart

some woe – which she shooed, with a flick of her wrist.

Her eyes darted, noting no parts of her car

seemed damaged... she slipped inside, slamming the door,

with briefest of doubts it would start—

but it roared...

She shot through the cluster and broke for the road:

and once there, she floored it, and 'round the curves tore;

she left all behind her, and never once slowed.

The light through the trees stuttered, shadow and glare.

As distance grew greater, she drove with less care:

she whipped through the narrow ways, whipped by the vines,

and skidded round corners past faded SLOW signs.

By the green roundabout to the gate to the wood,

she stopped to make way for some official dude

who popped up from nowhere and suddenly stood

arrogant before her. His gesture was rude.

She pulled over, watching his boot-strut approach.

He pulled out a pad with an officious gloat.

Your papers! She eyed him – a human cockroach

in glistening carapace – glittering coat;

with helmet and goggles and leathers and boots—

He surely was one of those 'uniform fruits.'

You guys – so disorganized –  can't you share notes?

She reached out the window to poke his remotes,

then treaded the pedal, and straightaway shot

through the brief-opened gate, just too quick to be caught.

Then safely beyond it she paused, with the thought

perhaps she had run him down –  turned  for a look.

He was fine, for he stood up and snapped off some shots

which went wild