The half-forgotten
Other half of my short life
In short story form

 
Along the Bottom
6-25-2005

I'm at a tiny video store, the kind with all the movies you never heard of. Two titles catch my mind. THE ENDEVEROR or something similar. I catch the end of the second one in my mind: a brute human mutant in the top room of a house, which is being eaten side-by-side by a huge monster. To call the human an appetizer for this thing would be an exaggeration. The human has a curved metal rod that he swings golf-like up into the monster's lower jaw. Blood everywhere.

I lose my vision. I'm again staring at the two video boxes on the bottom shelf near the floor. It seemed so familiar. I look at the back of the first box and see some scenes I recognize. People living in some desert wasteland town, driving rusty old cars. Assumably from a low-budget film I once saw, but more likely from a previous dream. I can hear Matt's voice now, going "that's awesome" to some low budget scenes. The second one looks well-made, though, so I pick it up and start to watch it at his place.

I stay with the protagonists of the film for a while. They're obnoxious young guys, and the main mutant guy hasn't mutated yet. He's pretty reluctant to fill his role. I imitate his move from the movie by swinging a golf club into a television set, breaking it. Guess noone's watching any movies now.

Soaking wet, I enter a bedroom that should belong to grandma. Green everywhere. Dusty, uncomfortable linens. I sit down on the bed. I have to pee. I figure I'm already getting water everywhere that I'll just go here, so I do. I piss forever, and it starts to make a small river down the carpet past the doorway. I close it a little from where I'm sitting so noone will see.

The supersonic jet I'm in lands on an airfield in prehistoric Australia. There's a single human colony there, and I'm visiting. The settlers have forgotten their so-called past heritage and have adapted to prehistoric life--with the exception of supersonic jets passing through every now and then. The younger generation doesn't even know what technology is. They follow me around everywhere to hear my stories.

I run into MP. Don't know whether she lives here or is just visiting. We walk around. Everything is green for as far as I can see. Untouched. I explain how where I come from, all of this is populated with people, and how people keep cutting down all the forests even though we need them to breathe. She asks if I've ever been to Australia, and I admit no, I haven't, but I have friends there.

Walking along some trails, we come upon some fenced-off areas with yellow signs written in an alien language. Some sort of "keep out" deal. MP points to some shacks beyond one fence. A body rests in a casual sitting position, back turned to us, dead. I assume everything there is dead, but then I see some legs moving. I decide to leave.

I get back on the jet. Some kids come with me. Before I know it, I'm off into space staring at the Earth, Australia a green speck rotating off around the globe, the globe a translucent black pearl hanging in the void. I don't really want to go.

One of the kids starts to open a bottle of wine. I say no, but it's too late. Fortunately there is simulated gravity in the jet, and it all just empties into the swimming pool. I tell him it's a waste of oxygen. I hold my breath and go under the water for a bit. Some General comes by to evaluate us. I ignore him to take another dive into the pool, scraping the left side of my face along the bottom.

posted by Phlegm at 6/25/2005  (0) comments

 
Cannibal Mafia
6-23-2005

At a Saturday family barbeque. I have a pet dog living in my car and it's gotten the interior rather dirty. I accidentally kick over some dog food on the floor and the dog eats like crazy. That's when I remember I haven't fed it for five days.

I take all the seats out so I can clean it. Other kids take that to mean to take apart my entire car and take it to the store and then buy all sorts of accessories for it. No matter how much I yell and swear and scream that I just want a wash, they don't listen to me. They just push my exterior car parts around on a big shopping cart. Finally after I literally start slapping people around, they each listen and say, "Why didn't you just tell me."

Back at the barbeque in the middle of the desert. Eating some very good burritos. The father walks by and asks how I like the burrito skin. I say it's great. He shrugs and moves on. His son, still older, comes by and brags about how he made it out of the boss he just killed while running an errand. I take a couple more bites and then decide I don't want to eat human.

There are two ways out of the barbeque. One is through a night-time French town constructed entirely out of bricks, and the other is up a cliff that hadn't been scaled since 1935.

I sneak into the town first. The roads are a mess, being built of brick. Loose bricks everywhere. Buildings falling apart. Can't tell which roads lead through a ghetto or to salvation. Another man is with me, and he seems to know where he's going, except I think he's drunk. The son finds us and chases us. We find a firetruck and two firemen at the end of a fire scene. We start to explain when the son comes and shoots at everyone. My companion hands me a metal plate to shield myself with as he goes down. It blocks the bullet and I run.

I make for the cliff. I scale it. Looking up each step, it looks impossible, but I somehow find stuff to grab--a rock here, a root there--to pull myself up. He can't keep up with me and I get away to another town. I go into a store and talk to a little kid there, tell him about these lunatics. I sit down on a bench in the little novelty store. Just when I think everything's cool for a few moments, I shut my eyes and hear a click. The kid has fastened me to my bench. "It'll be okay, he says," and the son comes in the door. Everyone in this area is afraid of this family and do everything for them!

The man that was with me earlier, who got shot, he saves me. A bullet is sticking out of his forehead. We make it back to my car. My car is all rusty and has a recess in the front with watery sand and dirt and large rocks in it. Even huge chunks of chicken inside an exterior hood compartment. I didn't think the weather here was bad enough to wear it down like this.

I drive like a maniac, like someone who'd gotten any with too many crazy stunts in too many video games. I squeeze through cars inside tunnels and screech sideways past Mafia cars as my gun forward-mounte gun turrets fire. Mafia. Family. Some kind of Cannibal Mafia is what I'm dealing with and I'm going to end it.

With the enemy on our tail, we climb another mountain--just barely--and make it to some complex. My companion, he has super speed and can teleport every now and then, which is probably how he saved me before. He tires quickly, though, and falls to a volley of bullets. Me, I'm more normal, except I have a supercharged bomb. One shot to annihilate everything around me. I take a fall and use it to my advantage. I do what amounts to breakdancing on the ground as I fire bullets at my enemies. The boss draws closer. A green alien, lizard-like, with glowing orbs on his chest. I wear him down, waiting for him to attempt his self-heal, when he's most vulnerable. I see his blue charge, and I let my bomb go off. A moment before he vanishes into the ether, he congratulates me in a robotic voice.

Chilling in ER's place, watching Aliens on his TV with no sound. An alien starts to lick a woman, and I hear it. I look around the TV and ER is there with a record player and a candle, the hot wax of the candle being sliced by the turning record, generating a licking sound. How does he come up with this stuff?

posted by Phlegm at 6/23/2005  (1) comments

 
Swim There
6-21-2005

Once again in my childhood neighborhood, this time walking up Fern to the elementary school. Daytime. Grass is growing up through the concrete street. Half the parking lot of the school is gone, and the playground has been replaced by a steep slope with a dark forest at the bottom. A large tree with dark green leaves sits in the middle of a dark pond with turbulent waters. Probably connected to the creek further down.

GJ and EZ come up behind me. I'd gotten EZ's number earlier during a chance encounter in a cafeteria or something. I lean on a wooden fence that was never there before and overlook the pond. I hear a splash and suddenly there are half a dozen kids jumping into the water and playing. It's deep; everyone's swimming. "I can't believe people actually swim there!" I say as I point.

posted by Phlegm at 6/22/2005  (0) comments