Diaskeue (di-as-keu’-ee): Graphic peristasis (description of circumstances) intended to arouse the emotions.
It was raining. The sidewalk was wet and cold under my feet. A mosquito was biting me on the forearm. I waited for the sting and slapped it hard. My blood leaked from its bloated rear end. My blood. Washed away by the rain.
I was standing outside the bus station in my underpants. I wanted to be a mannequin, but the blood thwarted my desire. People were coming and going. Nobody noticed me, or if they did, they ignored me.
I had escaped from Mr. Richards, the man who claimed to be my father. How could he be my father? His cruelty was boundless. I had to brush my teeth—to stick the plastic tool in mouth slathered mint-flavored crème and rubbed its bristled tip back and forth, and spitting (sometimes bloody drool). It made me sick. I would rinse my mouth vigorously when I was done spitting, hoping it would wash the horror away. Mr. Richardson would pat me on the back and praise me for submitting to what I considered a Satanic ritual.
I would not submit any more!
My God! Here comes Mr. Richardson! He sees me! I run. It’s hard in my underpants and barefoot. He catches me and zip ties my hands behind me for my “own good.” He drapes a raincoat over my shoulders and summons his big black limo. It arrives and he pushes me in. “What will I do with you Carlos? You refuse to believe I am your father and you refuse to brush your teeth. I am starting to think this is hopeless, that I should get rid of you somehow.”
Eventually, he capitulated. I haven’t brushed my teeth for 4 years. I’ve lost 6 teeth and my gums are diseased and bleed whenever I chew.
So what?
Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu
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