Shadow Splay

            “And if you look the left, you’ll see one of the giant rabbits that is indigenous to this area. The rabbits have been known to grow up to 5 meters tall, and like to eat small trees. Let’s be on our way before it becomes curious about our little tour van, shall we?” the tour guide droned, exactly as he had for the past 3 hours. Jerald had thought that a vacation to Mastaglia would be full of adventure and chaotic escape from his dull day-to-day life, but his tour guide seemed hell-bent on keeping the dullness in life. The grey uniform, the monotone voice, the one arm that was missing, it was all so painfully boring. This was his second day in Mastaglia, and he was the only one in his family that had dared venture out of their motel today for the guided tour of the nearby forests and warlord mansion. Yesterday’s daylong forum on invisible slugs had drowned the enthusiasm and hope from the wife and kids, so they had opted to stay in the room, order pizza and watch HBO while Jerald went on this tour.  Maybe they got the better deal out of it, he though to himself. 

            A small boy giggled in the corner of the tour van. Had Jerald not been tuning out the guide by now, he might not have heard the voice at all. As it was, he wasn’t even sure that it wasn’t just his imagination. He looked around, trying to see if there were any kids on board. “No, why would there be?” he said to himself. Sighing, he relaxed back into his seat, and continued to not listen to the tour guide moan about the exotic foliage squelching under the wheels of the vehicle. Then he heard it again. This time, Jerald was sure that he heard a little boy giggling from a corner of the van. Since the touring agency obviously didn’t put any effort into insuring tour quality, the windows were caked with filth, and not much light got in, except for what came through the windshield. Regardless, the back of the van was very dark. Most people just made it a mobile nap spot, but there seemed to be a kid back there that was thrilled to the gills to be there. Curious, Jerald unbuckled his seatbelt and scooted backwards to see what the kid was doing.

            The giggling got more emphatic as he drew nearer to the back of the van, though no one but Jerald seemed to notice. They seemed to have been lulled into a trance by that tour guide’s voice, if you wanted to call it a voice and not a torture device. When his back hit the back of the bus, Jerald looked around to find the kid. He saw nothing at first, and was a bit confused. Then, in the passenger side back corner, he saw a butane lighter, and he noticed that someone had crudely drawn a cat with a ludicrous smile in the corner, where only shadows really were. As he looked closer at the cat, laughter exploded in his head, and he was sucked into the lighter before he could manage to scream.

Taken Too Far

            “Shit! Shit! Oh, this is bad, this is very bad! Why? Why?!!” A scream of anguish was heard from behind a closed door, three doors down from where Alice was exiting her room, in fact. That’s his room, she thought to herself. Oh my god, what has he done?! She rushed back into her room, grabbing a mop. She had a feeling she might need it, afraid it would be like last time. I was going to have such a nice day, too. Goodbye, plans. She mused as she ran to her friend’s door.

            “Oh, God, what have I done? Why?” she heard as she reached the door, accompanied by a stifled sob. Not bothering to knock, she practically broke the door down as she let herself in, terrified of what he might have done, again. As she crossed the threshold into his room, she looked around to find him, and take stock of what damage had been done. Other than him crouched and staring agonizingly at the floor, she couldn’t find anything wrong. The place was clean, organized, even nicer than they had left it yesterday. That wasn’t like him, but it was a nice change in his behavior, to be sure.

            “Hey, what’s going on? I heard you screaming. I think the whole house heard you, too. The others should be here soon, if they aren’t busy flirting with the camera crew. I guess it wouldn’t be too bad this time if the cameras saw you. There’s nothing we have to hide or clean up.” Alice said to her friend, who had up until this point ignored her, still staring, though now dejectedly, at the floor. When she was finished with her statement, he turned slowly to look at her. How long has it been since you’ve slept, you poor thing? She thought when she got a look at his eyes. They were more haunted than they had been in months. She thought he was over this, that the therapy had helped.

            “Why did you bring that THING in here?! Don’t you see what the problem is? Open your eyes, Alice! Fucking take a LOOK! Look at what I’ve done. Why did I do this? What’s wrong with me? This room… This ROOM!” and he started mumbling to himself for a few seconds as he glared at the entire room with an intense hatred that wasn’t normal for him. Not the new him, no, she thought to herself. She had started doing that a lot recently, keeping her thoughts to herself. She used to just voice her opinions without filtering them. She found she got a lot less camera time, and a lot less yelling at, when she just thought to herself now. Easier to win the money that way.

            “What are you talking about? You remember last time? I thought you did it again, but it doesn’t look like you did. What’s wrong? Why are you screaming? And what thing are you talking about? You mean this?” She brandished the mop, making sure he saw it, and not something else.

            “Yes, that! What did you think I meant? Never mind, you obviously aren’t paying attention. You should have noticed as soon as you walked in the door.  I tried cleaning my own room today. I took it too far. This place is so clean… too clean. I hate it. I can’t touch any of it. This part my feet are touching is the one place I didn’t mop, sweep, wipe, and disinfect. Not in that order, though. No, not in that order at all. I did too much, it’s too clean, it isn’t right. I hate it, I HATE IT!! Why did you bring the mop?!”

            “Because of last time! Don’t you remember?” Alice said, slightly annoyed.

            “I know that, I say these thing. I know why you brought the mop, but it’s the worst thing you could have brought this time! I don’t need a mop, I even mopped the ceiling, for Christ’s sake! Who the fuck mops a ceiling? It wasn’t easy, but I did it. Thought it needed it at the time, it was so dirty, and I need to take care of my own problems now. Cleaning is a problem. It’s a problem when I don’t do it, it’s a problem when y’all do it, and now it’s a problem when I do it. Everything is so white. So clean, so awfully CLEAN! Look, Alice! Look at the floor. You can see your own damned reflection in it! That’s not a sign of a good floor, a good floor is supposed to have feet on it! Not faces, not reflections. You aren’t supposed to see ceilings when you look at a floor. The walls, I’ve violated the walls with cleaning products. They will keep me up again tonight. All I hear now is “409, 409, 40-motherfucking-9!” Then, he broke into sobs, but his feet stayed in place. He never touched any other place in his room.

            Alice was dumbfounded. How does someone fix this? Should she even bother with trying? Was a room that was too clean even a problem? It obviously was to him, but was it a problem in reality? As she contemplated this possible predicament, she heard footsteps coming down the hallway. She looked to see who it was, and wasn’t surprised to see the 5 other roommates coming with camera crews in tow. They all wanted to see the circus, or what they thought was a circus. “Here they come. Try to get a grip, or at least pretend.” She whispered to him, hoping he heard her. He immediately stopped crying, coughed twice, and stood up. He nodded at her, but never left his spot.

            “They’ll never see what I’ve done. I planned for that.” He said with a knowing smile and an alien spark in his eyes as he took a remote out of his pocket. Alice had never seen that remote before. What kind of remote has three buttons? She asked herself. Before she could ask anything, he pressed the green button, and all the lights when out in the house at once. A disco ball dropped somewhere in the living room.

            “Oh yeah, I forgot that would happen.” He murmured, probably to himself. No one else would have heard him, but everyone had gone silent as soon as the lights had gone out, so his voice carried much farther than he expected.

            Alice saw an opportunity, and seized it immediately. “Dance party in the living room, everyone! Let’s get naked!” she screamed as she ran towards the disco ball. The key word in that was ‘naked’. The other roommates hated having to wear clothes, and would use any excuse to take them off, even if that excuse was “Let’s get naked.” Especially if that excuse was “Let’s get naked!” They all rushed into the living room, and a dance party ensued. Alice managed to slip away to a less inhabited part of the house, and still kept her clothes on, without their noticing. Crisis averted, what a nice feeling.

Let's Make Friends

I can’t take this

Feeling of inefficacy.

They do everything

And get away with it.

I do nothing

And pay for everything.

Why?

Those fucking suits,

The taxes lining pockets,

And lying that people come to expect.

What is going on

With everyone?

I have to do something,

And I have a plan.

Transparency,

Authenticity,

Accountability,

They need to be introduced

To politics.
Legend has it they were friends

A long time ago,

But I somehow doubt that.

For Sleep

            Kyle sighed, and laid back in his plush, oversized, red chair he had jokingly deemed “The Throne”.  He looked around the living room, taking in the velvet curtains, gothic chandelier (was it gothic? He couldn’t remember anymore, it had been so long ago since he’d bought it), the massive amount of authentic antique Persian rugs he had managed to replace the carpet with, how those rugs felt on his feet, and everything else about the room.  As he did this, he reached for the tray marked “candy” on the table at his left.  He didn’t need to look for it to find it; it was in the same place every night.

            Good Christ, what is this all for? He thought to himself, slumped in The Throne like a comatose hospital patient. All of this shit, and for what? What does it give me? I’ve spent my entire life collecting these objects everyone covets. I’ve been successful, I’ve had power. But is this what life is about? Just sitting in a chair, alone, in a house that is large to the point of obscenity?

            “No,” Kyle whined. It took him a few seconds to realize that he had actually spoken aloud.  Should he be embarrassed? Why? Who was around to question him about his errant mutterings? Who was there to look at him inquiringly, or maybe even whimsically, and ask him what he meant when he said, simply, “No”?  There was no one. No one would ask him, no one was around, so what would be the point of being embarrassed? Furthermore, why had the idea stuck in his head for this long, since it was obviously a ludicrous notion?

            On that note, why am I still just thinking? I could say this out loud, I don’t mind. He shrugged his shoulders, tossed a few “candies” into his mouth, and drained the rest of the scotch that had been in his right hand most of that time. After draining it, Kyle looked at the short, stubby glass, wondering how he had managed to not drop it in the past few minutes while he had forgotten himself.

            If I didn’t need these to sleep, what happiness would I have left?

            The thought wandered across his mind like a hobo lost in one of those New York subways everyone talks about.  Wild eyed, half drunk, stumbling, ill prepared for the oblivion to come, yet screaming for it, all the same. With that, his consciousness fled like the coward it was. At least for another day.

Right

Dear Sara,

            Since you’re reading this, I bet you’re wondering why I wasn’t in bed this morning.  I’d wonder that, if I had woken up in your position.  I just couldn’t take this anymore.  This day-in, day-out, same shit every day, it’s driving me insane.  You’re happy with watching the television for hours on end, I understand that. I tried to be happy with it, too, but I can’t do it.  That’s not the only thing, either.  Life is just stale.  Nothing is exciting anymore.  This is exactly what I never wanted with my life, you know this.  Every day I wake up, I wish I wasn’t here.  I finally decided to fix that.

            Don’t bother trying to find me, and yes, I know how cliché that sounds.  You’ll find the pieces of my phone in the blender.  I don’t know where I’m going yet, since I haven’t gotten there.  I’m just going away from everything.  I can’t stand this familiarity.  You’re the only person that knows I’m going, by the way.  I wrote you this note, and I haven’t told anyone. My family doesn’t know, none of my friends know, and no one will know.  They’ll figure out I’m gone when they don’t see me around anymore. 

            This isn’t your fault.  Please know I don’t think badly of you, or anything you’ve done.  I’m just done with this part of my life.  I’m off to make my own story.

I’m just not Mr. Right,

David