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 "My professional psychiatric analysis is that Angry John is completely fucking insane." - Sigmund Freud |
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I wanted to get a better look at it, but I was in traffic and the bird was now behind me. I tried to see it in my rear view mirror. A few minutes later I saw another one. This one was a little closer. It was clearly not a bird. It looked like an insect, but it was far too large to be one. Once again I couldn't get a good look before it was behind me. I began to question myself. Was I really seeing what I thought I was seeing? Clearly, if I was actually seeing these things then they were unlike any known species. I decided it was probably a trick of the light. About 100 yards up the interstate about five or six of the golden birds were hovering near the ground. As I approached traffic ground to a halt. A golden translucent flying ant the size of a tiger landed to the right of my car. Its mandibles clicked rhythmically as it peered into my car. I wondered if it was strong enough to tear through the door. I could hardly breathe. This was the most fucked up thing I had ever seen. It moved to the front of my car and began to click its legs on the hood. I floored the gas and ran over it. Its head detached from its prothorax, translucent golden goo covered my windshield. Its head stuck to my wipers for a second and then detached. I weaved back and forth between the dense traffic and... I stood in the military style shower room. An old timey claw foot bathtub stood raised on a pedestal in the center of the room. There was no shower curtain, but there was a shower head and drains in the floor around the bathtub. To the left of the tub was a window, and through this window I could see the President speaking on C-Span. I disrobed, stepped into the shower, and began to clean myself. The phone rang. The phone was clearly waterproof and looked like an old fashioned plastic microphone. There was no earpiece. I picked up the phone and said hello through the rain of water. It was Natalie. We talked about the insects. Would she have to go to deal with them? I could hear the president in the background: "Look, this isn't the federal government's fucking problem! This is clearly a state issue. This is a civil issue, and the state police need to deal with these bugs!" Natalie was of the opinion that these bugs had evolved naturally. I explained to her that it was highly unlikely that the golden bugs were natural. Even with highly accelerated mutation we would have seen at least some intermediate forms. And... I sat in the back seat trying to drive. Chris kept shaking his leg and my view of the road kept wavering. My mother's head blocked most of my view of the road. I felt drunk. I screamed at him to stop shaking his leg. But I knew it was no use. I got tunnel vision. The car turned and slid down the wet road sideways. The last thing I saw in my life was the divider on the interstate filling the car door window. Permalink to this post. |
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I remembered having sex. But there were no single girls at the party. The only other single person was the blonde fag. A wave of nausea and fear consumed me. Vaguely I remembered bits and pieces of sex with the blonde. I put my head between my hands and closed my eyes. Something wasn't right. How could I have done this? How could I ever be that out of control. And other memories came to me. Memories of other nights with the same blonde. But they had that strange third person feel to them. How could I have possibly forgotten these encounters. How is it possible for these memories to be here. I was as certain that the memory was real as I was certain that it was impossible. And I feared disease. Had I essentially killed myself in these times of insanity? Just like that, was my life ended? I sat there in disbelief. But something wasn't right. This was impossible. I tried with all of my might to remember accurately. The memories stuck, but with that strange third person quality. What is the truth? Permalink to this post. |
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"Have you ever heard of Volcano cleaner?" he asked. "Uh...sure, all the time," replied the twin. "I mean before you started working here." "Oh...no. Never heard of it." The second twin stared down at his amphetamine pill. He had opened the capsule, and small dots had spilled in a pile around the pill. He ate the dots one at a time, oblivious to us in line. Finally he realized that he was at work, and began selling tickets again. His job was to take the order, and the other twin was to get the ticket. The woman told him what ticket she wanted, but the twin scribbled it down in broken and random English. He handed the order slip to the other twin, who gave the woman a three week old ticket stub. They repeated this for every customer. Both of the twins and the cashier left. I approached the manager and complained that the twins had... "Given you a fucking stub, I know. I'll deal with this," he shouted. I saw the three soap store workers drive away in a loud junker of a car. I followed in my car. A few miles down the road they stopped at a convenience store. The car door opened, and a nude woman fell to the ground. I walked over, picked her up, and helped her into the front seat. The twins were in the store, and the cashier was in the back seat. Next to the cashier was Julie Rage. She was completely nude on the bed-sized backseat. "Want to have some sex?" I asked in as casual a manner as I could muster. "Sure," she said with a grin and drug heavy eyes. I had a bit of trouble getting my clothes off in the backseat, but luckily it was huge. We started having sex. "Oh yeah, you're so much better than my boyfriend!" she screamed. "Shut the fuck up!" yelled the cashier. How do I get myself into these situations? Here I was having sex with her in front of her boyfriend. "Do you think you're better than me?" the cashier raged. "Dude, I have absolutely no frame of reference," I said. I lifted her legs above her head and got a good angle. Even my peripheral vision catching a knife being pulled from a waistband was not enough to slow me down. He stabbed me in the back. Time turned back, the knife came back out of the waistband. He cut me across the back. Time turned back. Julie disappeared and I was now having sex with the air, but I could still feel her. Time moved forwards and backwards, showing strange permutations of the last seconds of my life. Permalink to this post. |
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We walked into the door and were immediately in a clothing section. It looked like a living room - with wood paneling and a carpet. It had quite a cozy feeling. The narrator mentioned that it was packed with merchandise. But, due to the excellent organization, it didn't feel cramped. The clothes hung on circular racks. We entered an enormous courtyard towards the center of the store. There was a park inside of the building. The sky was visible through a glass ceiling. The neatly cut grass was divided by several sidewalks. A policeman stopped us to check our radiation. All citizens had devices surgically implanted in their skin that caused them to emit radiation at all times. This radiation was your signature, with it you were identified, bought goods, and were punished. The cop carried a mechanical baton that, when used on your radiation, could subdue, strike, or kill you depending on his needs. The cop became agitated. "Your signal isn't showing up," he said. He checked me up and down, but only my shoes registered. Suddenly I knew. I didn't have an implant. I locked eyes with the cop. He also knew. My wife ran. The cop prodded me with the baton, but without radiation I was immune. I ran as fast as I could. He shot projectiles at me, but they also were dependant on my radiation for damage. Generation after generation exposed to the radiation had acted as a teratogen. Humans were dependant on the radiation to maintain normal functioning. My body was unstable. I could pass through solid objects. I could phase shift at will, becoming translucent with only my glowing bones clearly visible. I had trouble running normally because my body was too light for gravity to affect properly. I had to run on all fours, using my elongated hands and arms to grab the ground and propel myself forward. I passed through a wall and was confronted by a cop. I grabbed his head in my oversized hand, lifted him over my head and smashed him into the ground. His skull and body were crushed beyond recognition. I needed to get away before I was captured. Permalink to this post. |
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"Just over that hill," the cat said. The cats were chained to the tree, as were a couple of dogs. "Do you belong to anyone?" I asked the cat. "There is a young boy that plays with us." I released the cats from the tree, but left the dogs. I needed someone to walk with, but I didn't want to take away the boy's dog. He might not miss the cats too badly. I began my walk across the field. I sat on the table rocking back and forth, the cat in my arms. I loved the cat. The cat struggled to get free and I held it tighter. It fought for release and escaped. I remembered why I hate cats so much. I embraced Jackie. My arms were at the small of her back. For some reason we had stopped the car in LaPlace and were walking along the street. I looked at her. A flood of memories and thoughts. She was wearing flannel pajama pants with an elastic band. As I kissed her I slipped my hands under the waistband and caressed the swell of her buttocks just below the small of her back. And Lori and I were in conversation. We were in the open but for some reason the lower halves of our bodies were obscured. I fondled her, she lost her train of thought but for an instant. We continued to talk. No one else was the wiser. Permalink to this post. |
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