Archive for July, 2008
Last Days / Prologue / Zach & Jeremy
July 26, 2008“Bollocks.”
“I’m telling you man, it’s true. The King is alive.”
“That’s only ‘cause he never really died, mate.”
“I shit you not man, I saw it on the news.”
“What news are we talking about here? Was it on CNN or on one of your hardcore underground forums that are always wrong?”
Zach sniffed as usual in the face of disbelief. Of course his roommate did have a point there, which made him annoyed he’d been divulging one too many false rumours from his major source on previous occasions. But this time he was completely sure.
UBSoA #2: All the King’s Men
July 23, 2008Hallelujah.
All this nostalgia.
Listening to the King does it every time. And it doesn’t even matter that the places he takes you were never in yer own past – still, they sound nice. You find yourself yearning for cold wintry mornings – but then reality bites and it’s all very nice but also annoying from the daily-fuckin’-life perspective.
Look away,
Look away.
Hohes C
July 22, 2008It’s not every day that you come home and there’s apple juice with extra vitamin C waiting at your door, as if it were trying to tell you something.
Doorbell rings.
It’s Sunday, for fuck’s sake.
Bell rings again.
My neighbour, at his Sunday best (trousers and a cowboy hat), greets me happily. He’s got a small cardboard box in his hand.
“Did you find the apple juice I left in front of your door yesterday? I got it as a gift. I drink a lot of juice, you know, but I’m not a big fan of apple juice.”
“Yeah thanks.”
“And here’s a watch.” He hands me the box. I open it. It’s a watch alright.
“It’s a Werbe-Uhr. Good quality. I got a lot of those. That will last you a lifetime. It’s not working now, you probably need to change the batteries. Look at mine though, that’s a better one. Yeah, you like that, don’t you? I got nice watches, better ones, but I’m not giving you those.”
“That’s OK. This is a nice watch.”
“Yeah, yeah. Fuck off now.”
The Fire Escape
July 21, 2008These days whenever I need a a quick getaway I think really hard about sweaty feet in socks ‘n sandals then flee the scene screaming incomprehensible Italian.
Last Days / Prologue / Eve
July 21, 2008It was baffling, the lot of it.
Her legs jolted into a metal contraption undoubtedly fabricated during the glory days of the Third Reich, an unnervingly slick-talking medic rummaging around in her most private parts, and her utterly useless twat of a husband managing to once again showcase his unrivalled talent for stating the blatantly obvious.
“Push, dear. You can do it!”
UBSoA #1: Comedown
July 19, 2008Down again, now. And afraid to look into the real reasons. I know this, I’ve been here. It happens every so often and it comes back again. Usually after something happens that I’ve been really looking forward to. The idea of things going by, ending – and the void that’s left when that happens, it breaks my heart a little every time. Life can be a cold reality when you’ve been exploring the boundaries of fun.
Why do I have such issues with these things? Why does it seem like everything is broken up when the party’s over? Why does the future look so bleak when I know there will be sequels, more parties, more people. But it must be the people. It freaks me out to find out I love someone.
Sniffedysnif where’s me spliff, I can’t think without me spliff. Where’s me spliff? Oh well time to save the world again, sniffedy sniff – feck where’s that spliff?
Lucky Shot
July 19, 2008
The man sits at the table and thinks. His thoughts are with his wife who is sitting in the other room. He can hear she’s crying. The man takes a swig of his beer and thinks. He could go back in there, say he’s sorry, and that’d be all she needed to hear and they could be back in their neutral zone again.
But the man isn’t sorry and too many times now he’s admitted to being so even if he wasn’t really. So he drinks his beer. He can hear she’s rummaging around in the kitchen, looking for something.
He ain’t sorry. He’s relieved. He feels a strange elation in finally knowing what it’s like, and wonders why he took so long to get there. Looking back, it’d been dead easy and it felt fucking great.
He hears her scream briefly. And a bit more, all drenched in sobs. Then the gunshot.
The man sits at the table, thinking and drinking his beer.
