"Cognitive Dissonance" drabbles by Samantha Grace Bishop
Once I Was An Eagle
Cognitive Dissonance #32
In the morning, she awakens softly to birds chirping outside.
House otherwise still, silent. She's cradled next to Johannes.
Feels his warmth pressed against her.
Reaching her hand back. Feels his hard penis.
Slipping off her shorts. Backs herself against it, pushing inside.
She knows he's awakened, he's reaching for her breasts.
Carressing her nipples. In a moment, she spins around.
Climbs on top. Lowering her lips to his.
Their tongues chasing like lovebirds outside.
Grinding herself down, she cums, biting his lower lip.
Then she moves down, takes him in her mouth.
Her hair spreading across him like sunshine.
Apotheosis
Cognitive Dissonance #31
Sierra wakes from a nightmare in the wee hours, sweating through the afghan, heart pounding. A haunting light winds its way from the windows, luminous and cathartic.
Across the room, Johannes snoozes away on the couch. She can see him through the humid murky air, a shadow amidst shadows.
Sorting out her dream, her mind still numb. She'd grown branches, and roots.
Each piece of bark an agony to her flesh. To her soul. Until only limb, leaf and trunk remain. Growing heavenward in silent deliberate torment.
Shivering despite the warmth, she leaves the loveseat and curls up with Johannes.
Papa Don't Take No Mess
Cognitive Dissonance #30
Pass the poatoes, ma.
Dinner. Meatloaf round their little diningroom table. Gravy with mashed potatoes. He's always been a scrawny kid, but strong. Like his daddy.
Doesn't require a lot of food. No greenbeans today.
Are we gonna work on the car again today, dad?
Not today, Johannes, his dad says around a mouthful. Don't have the parts yet.
Good thing you don't have a job yet then, you wouldn't be able to get there, Johannes says innocently.
His mom smiles lovingly. You two are in charge of dishes after dinner.
Then your dad can help you with your homework.
Malice 'N Wonderland
Cognitive Dissonance #29
She'd walk from her house on Fox Hill Drive. Up and over the railroad tracks. Small shock of freckles and red against sunbaked brown of barren natural rocks. Hours wandering. Turtle Mountain. Red Rock Canyon. Avoiding the tourists. Just like locals on the Strip.
Latchkey kid. Keypad by the garage'd let her in after school.
Her father a lawyer. Her mother a doctor. Sometimes they wouldn't even be home way after dark. She'd order dinner herself using her allowance credit card.
Sierra'd tuck herself in most nights. If her parents did come home, she'd fall asleep to sounds of argument.
We'll Gather Lilacs In The Spring Again
Cognitive Dissonance #28
Later that night, or the next. Johannes is never sure. One day blends to the next. After a storm. And Sierra having too many mint juleps, asleep on the loveseat.
Checkers with Grandma Betty. Beneath the warm glow of a reading lamp. Her white hair nearly as luminous.
Seems like she's stopped talking bout N'awlins so much.
She'll start again before no time.
Why she want to go so bad anyway?
Never asked.
Why you takin' her?
Because I love her.
But you don't want'a go?
It'd be the last place I go.
Nothin 'n N'awlins 'cept dust and ghosts.
The Corascene Dog
Cognitive Dissonance #27
Storm chases itself across the sky. Crimson. Gold. Lightning so close Sierra nearly tastes it; remembers as a child licking a battery, imagines it'd taste like that.
She and Betty sit on the front porch, drinking mint juleps. Drowning thunderous rain dashing gainst the roof. Electricity sparking the air alive.
Then as quickly as it'd come, it's gone.
Continuing conversation before the storm, Grandma Betty asks.
You're a only child, aren't you?
Question hangs in still air a moment. Sierra takes a drink. Mint mingles with smoky bourbon. Sort of. I had a twin brother. He died in the womb.
A Quietly Forming Collapse
Cognitive Dissonance #26
Sierra setting the table. Grandma Betty bustling in the kitchen.
Sunday. Says Sundays are always special. She'd called Johannes in from the backyard a half hour ago. He emerges now freshly showered.
The little house is full of the smells of what's cooking. Cajun broiled shrimp. Ham, but tangier, as if mingled with genoa salami. Worcestershire BBQ sauce, homemade. Salad. Vinagrette dressing, tossed with smoked provolone cheese. Fresh French bread with garlic butter remoulade sauce.
Sitting down to eat, it's easy for Sierra to forget they're not a family.
Easy to foget a lot of things. Amidst chatter. Laughter. Love.
All Hands Against His Own
Cognitive Dissonance #25
Sierra awakens near suppertime. Mouth dry. Heavy eyes.
No cigarettes in nearly five days, even outside.
House's empty.
She's about to make ramen, interrupted by a sound outback.
Johannes steering a wheelbarrow of barkdust, dumping it under the fruit trees, next to the mulch. Champagne fig. Gala apple. Majestic peach.
His shirt's off, bronzed chocolate skin glistening.
You playing farmer now?
Doesn't make sense to hire out. I can do the work.
One hand on his abdomen. His skin's so warm. Kissing his neck.
Pulls him beneath the peach tree, on the grass.
Unbuttoning his jeans, pulls her shirt off.
Garden Of Forking Paths
Cognitive Dissonance #24
Faith Calista watched the sun setting in a town where a clerical error'd changed the name from Tule to Tulia in the late nineteenth century.
After crossing half the southwest, she'd nearly convinced herself that it's only Johannes. And a girl. His girlfriend Sierra from Las Vegas. From her interviews, the girl was just as culpable.
Grudgingly, she called her superior lieutenant at the LVMPD. Recounted a redacted editorial of pertinent information regarding her pursuit of the stolen drug money.
Faith cared little about the response. She wasn't going back.
Gritting her teeth, she drove Southeast. "Where are you, Johannes?"
A Bird Doesn't Sing Because It Has An Answer
Cognitive Dissonance #23
Smoothing the front of her sleek black Helmut Lang blazer, Faith awaited the waitress.
The check. Faith set her card. Before the waitress could take it.
"Say," spoken with well rehearsed grace, "I don't mean to intrude, but wasn't there a murder in town a month or so back?"
The waitress held Faith's eyes a moment, wavering, judging.
"Are you here investigating?"
Shaking her head nonchalantly, "Just curious. I'll be in town a few days if we can meet after you get off work. I just have a few questions. Off the record."
The victim's aunt hesitated. Shrugged. "Sure. Ok."
Nice Girls Don't Stay For Breakfast
Cognitive Dissonance #22
In Texas, she pulled the rented Ford sedan off at a Rip Griffin travel centre. Faith knew in fact it was the centre.
This strip of freeway with splotchy brown grass and no tree in sight was 873 miles back to Las Vegas.
And 873 miles onwards to New Orleans.
"Why the fuck would you go this way?" She muttered beneath her breath, opening the car's trunk. Reached in her suitcase. A cell phone from the bottom.
She dialled a number. 504 area code. Checking in. Detailed account.
Afterwards, back in the suitcase.
Exhaling, she entered the restaurant for breakfast.
Railroad Boy
Cognitive Dissonance #21
Washing dishes in the kitchen, Johannes watches them on the backporch.
Only thing left for Sierra. Her cigarettes.
No drugs. No sex. Even when Betty's off at work or making groceries.
Not since he'd met Sierra.
Can't keep their hands off each other.
Even fucked in the bed of a pickup truck in the pouring rain, hitchhiking.
Since they'd met. A fever dream. One long euphoric rush.
Till she'd stood on her tiptoes kissing his neck.
Whispered take me to New Orleans in his ear.
Now so close, Johannes wonders.
Just how long he'll be able to keep her here.
In The Shadows Between Mountains
Cognitive Dissonance #20
Sometimes I wonder if I even have a soul.
Of course you have a soul, child. Everything from the mountains to the sea on this green earth's got a soul, and then some.
I might've been born with one, but it got lost somewhere along the way.
If you think that's true, then you can spend a lifetime searching for it.
But more like, your soul will spend a lifetime searching for you.
What do you mean?
I mean, your soul needs you. More than Johannes needs you.
More than anything else needs you. But first, you must find yourself.
Bells For Her
Cognitive Dissonance #19
Sierra stands on the back porch, watching smoke from her cigarette melt into the calescent evening air. Day three of their stay at Grandma Betty's.
She makes them breakfast and dinner each day, usually before going to work. Without any negotiation, they've repaid kindness with odd jobs round the house.
Betty's day off. She joins Sierra on the back porch. There's garden gnomes in the yard dawdling between overgrown lilies and iris. I like it here. It feels like home.
You're welcome to stay here as long as you need, child. But I know, you got such a restless soul.
Tiny Sleeping Animals
Cognitive Dissonance #18
Johannes sleeps on the floor. Using the bottom of his backpack for a pillow.
Sierra wants to shoot up. It's only then she realizes her backpack's still in the Escalade. Panic seizes her, but not enough to wake Johannes. So she sits crosslegged on the floor next to him, shaking, arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees.
Doesn't matter, I wouldn't shoot up in her house anyway.
She's been so kind. She doesn't even have a cigarette.
Sierra can hear the front door open. You forgot this in his car.
Her backpack.
Go to sleep now.
Thanks.
I Believe While I Tremble; I Trust While I Weep
Cognitive Dissonance #17
Sierra, as if in a dream, Betty Etzel drives. They ride in the backseat of her ancient Ford sedan. She's talking constantly. Sierra barely makes sense of the words. Her grandchildren. Why is she telling us all about her grandchildren?
She shows them inside her two bedroom house. My husband passed away several years ago. It's just me and Eustace my cat now.
Johannes and Sierra stand in the middle of the dark living room, she's explained she doesn't want to risk a light. I get off at 3am. Wait for me. And stay off the furniture, you're both filthy.
The Night Is Very Soft
Cognitive Dissonance #16
Johannes takes a step forward, Sierra grabbing his arm, holding him back.
Nonetheless, the waitress takes a step back in retreat, but her eyes shine so bright in the humid night.
You need to come with me, Betty urges, but first you need to kick him further into the swamp. Let the alligators take care of him.
Johannes looks down at the body, hesitating, to Betty, she could be his grandmother, they look so similar.
Hurry! I only got so long before they'll be wondering where I've gotten off to! But I don't live too far. You'll be safe there.
The Phlogiston Theory
Cognitive Dissonance #15
His hand engulfed hers, like shaking hands with a gorilla. Faith wasn't easily intimidated, but this cop had the physique of an overgrown gym teacher.
He's already sweating in the warm El Paso sun. Wiping his brow, "In this world where Malaysian jets disappear off radar and're gone in a blip, you must have your reasons looking for two street kids," continued to talk, leading her inside the police station, "robbing somebody at knifepoint. Stealing their motorcycle isn't enough to bring you all the way to Texas."
"No," said Faith, "but add in a million dollars of stolen drug money."
Destruction Makes The World Burn Brighter
Cognitive Dissonance #14
She hauls herself up amid swampy waters and brambles.
The world's gone strangely quiet. Only hears herself breathing.
On the ground before her the shape of her attacker.
As she's raising her head, she sees someone holding the knife.
It's Johannes. Of course it's Johannes.
Only other person in her whole world.
She hugs him then, whispering in his ear.
Don't ever leave me again.
Johannes clutches her tight. We have to go.
In his hand is the keyring, a key to the Escalade.
As they turn, they're stopped in their tracks.
The waitress from the diner. Wait, she whispers.
Terror And Love Laid The Stone
Cognitive Dissonance #13
Sierra snarls at her attacker, arms flailing. Make one more fucking move and I'll blind you with your cigarette, threatens Ray, holding the cigarette hairsbreadth away, its heat smouldering.
In another instant he forces her hands behind her. Don't fucking make a sound or I'll strangle you. Tugging at her, he hauls her to the swamp and downwards. One big hand mauls her breasts, the other hand ripping her jeans down.
Tears stinging her eyes, Sierra sees a shadow. In one flash, there's a knife.
Sierra scrambles away, someone buries the knife in Ray's neck. Again and again, blood spurting.
