Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Timothy Ballan
2009
Contents
Acknowledgements............................................................................4
Disclaimer..........................................................................................5
I. Cold Images
Replaced Moments.............................................................................7
Cold Images.....................................................................................24
Grisworld.........................................................................................31
Closing Images.................................................................................37
Unreplaced Moments.......................................................................47
II. Curious Images
Unnatural Images.............................................................................54
Curious Exchanges...........................................................................59
Foreign Images...............................................................................126
Unlikely Encounters.......................................................................131
III. Positive Images
Somewhere in Space, Somewhere in Time....................................156
Shimmering Fluorescent Pools......................................................158
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank Adam Kukulka for help proofreading this
book.
Disclaimer
I refuse to use quotation marks in such a way that envelopes any commas
or periods not suggested by the quoted material. For example, quoting a
child saying the words "I don't want to go now", I did not put the comma
within the quotation marks, as the comma is not suggested by the child's
words. On the other hand, I will end this next sentence in a different way.
As someone once said, "Use your head, not your rule book."
With a similar emphasis on clarity over convention, I also follow
dashes with commas at times. Even if preceded by a dashas I will now
demonstrate, I retain commas that retain usefulness. Beyond just
punctuation, though, I'd hope abundant clarity pervades my writing, from
word order, to sentence structure, to overall presentation of ideas.
Cold Images
Replaced Moments
A bodiless entity leisurely swoops through outer space, crossing
immense distances in effortless leaps and swinging loops, but it sees
no planets, stars, or galaxies that would be familiar to inhabitants of
Earth. After a few minutes, over a period only two seconds long,
and with the loud scratchiness of a video tape suddenly rewound,
the entity views its entire journey backward, a journey that spanned
near-countless years even while traveling at marvelous speeds.
These two seconds end with an abrupt take to a blackness that
lingers for several seconds before we peer through the eyes of this
entity at what was the onset of its journey.
*
We are in the warm kitchen of a middle-class American household.
A little boy, who appears intensely sobered and reluctant to speak,
with eyes often fixed downward, sits eating cereal while his mother
distractedly organizes items on the kitchen counter while facing
away from the boy. There is some predictable talk between a
kindergartener on his way to school and his mother. However, after
a fairly long pause, the child says, "I'm a very bad boy, Mommy".
"Why honey? You're not a bad boy," sounding distracted.
After another fairly long pause, he says, "Mommy". His mother
turns her head toward him. Continuing, he says, "I'm sorry," deeply
seriously and deliberately, raising his eyes.
Now noticing her son's grave seriousness, his mother stops her
hands from organizing dishes by the sink and cupboards (which face
toward the fairly busy street in front of their house). Putting the
dishes down, she says, "Honey, oh, honeywhat makes you say
that?", as she hurries to sit by him.
The child seems intensely ashamed and hesitantly states, "Last
7
night."
"What about last night?" Receiving no answer, "Last night you
slept in our room, remember? You didn't do anything bad..."
Noting no change in her son's contrite positioning, "Timmy, you
slept like an angel. You didn't do anything, honey. It must've been a
bad dream." After a while, "Did you have a bad dream, Timmy?"
"No." After a little pause, "It wasn't a dream."
"Honey. What do you think happened?"
"...I'm sorry, Mommy," once again deeply sincere and deliberate,
raising his eyes as before.
"What is it, honey?"
Taking a long time to begin, "MommyI hit you! I didn't even
mean to. It was my handmy hand hit you and I felt angry like I
meant to but I didn't mean to! I don't know what happened! I'm
crazy, Mommy! I'm crazy!" He ends up buried in his mother's
shirt, hugging her and crying.
Intensely concerned, "TimmyTimmy, Timmyyou didn't hit me!
It's okay. It was just a bad, bad dream. It's okay, honey. You're not
crazy, you're not crazy"
Timmy joltingly backs away from his mother but then slowly walks
toward the door, to the left of the sink and cupboards. Still facing
her, looking terrified, "Nono, nono... I'm crazy, Mommy,
because it wasn't a dream..."
His mother slowly approaches him and, once near enough to him,
moves to embrace him, but he immediately bolts to push past the
unlatched storm door. The entity's perspective follows Timmy on
8
his way out onto the street as, after a moment stunned, his mother
screams out to him, horrified, "Timmy!... Timmy! You didn't hit
me!"
Continuing at a panicked and determined speed, Timmy is now
nearing the middle of the street, where we soon hear the screeching
of tires as the perspective takes to Timmy's shocked pose. At the
sound of a screaming child, the perspective takes to his mother
sitting up forcefully in bed and with a sharp gasp. The perspective
widens to show her husband awakening, but much more peacefully.
"What is it honey?", he says, half-dazedly.
Still catching her breath, his wife quickly shifts her body over to
face the window on her side, the right side of the bed, sounding and
looking relieved when she sees an empty road below. Horror once
again overcomes her features, though, as she bolts for the bedroom
door, though she is held back by her husband who is more awake by
now.
"Woah, woah, woah, honeywhat's the matter?"
Intensely preoccupied but slowly brought to a clear mind, "Is
Timmy... okay?..."
"Yes... He's right... there." The husband turns her around to show
Timmy sleeping soundly on a cot to the left of the door, opposite
their bed. The husband leads his wife to sit on the bed in order to
catch her breath.
Beginning to laugh, "That was really silly of me... I just had the
most horrible dream," but ending with no laugh and appearing
resistant to further discussing the dream.
"Well...", motioning for her to tell about the dream.
9
a field and there were no bears there, and there were a bunch of kids
playing around for some reason. Maybe time was playing out some
sort of 'repercussion' of some instance from the past... Or, times or
places sort of 'combined' somehow for the moment... And/or,
maybe these were ghosts... ...Or, is he just 'crazy'?"
"I don't believe in all that 'hypothetical' stuff..."
"Yeah", etc.
"But, maybe these things are possible...
another student says.
Whoever
Teacher: "But, like I said, this poem actually does make sense upon
close reading. It isn't just 'possibly' coherent, it is certifiably so."
16
"So, it's like walking by that person in the video who might not
actually be crazy, but assuming he's crazy"
Teacher: Excitedly and somewhat surprisedly, "Good! Yet we don't
usually think toor don't have the time or energy toquestion our
assumptions, do we?..." Seeing more and more students preparing
their things to leave, hurrying more, "...This is what I wanted to end
on: In poetryand life, things may appear wacky or dismissible,
but they may be actually sensible... But don't question too much, or
you just might go crazy! Okaywe're just about out of time. See
you guys next week; just make sure you've got your homework
downit's on the board."
Some students have left even before the teacher finishes. But Lisa
has remained silent and visibly angered since she last spoke. Finally
collecting her things, she leaves the classroom in barely-suppressed
rage.
The perspective now takes to black for a moment before it shows
the inside of the main entrance to Lisa's house. We see the closed
front door of an apparently lower-income family. There is enough
room so that there's no need to zoom out as Lisa comes through the
door, but the perspective moves around freely after this.
From another room, her mother calls apathetically and ritualistically,
"How was your day?"
Sounding deeply angry but accommodatingly polite, "Everyone's
against me".
The mother sounds neither concerned nor sympathetic. "Ahh... The
old teenage blues... Go take a nap or something."
"...Thanks again for your great parenting skills," sounding
17
"That's right... How would I know for sure? Well, they don't
scream when I axe at them, for one... but maybe they're mute..."
They laugh and continue their good-natured bantering before kissing
"goodnight" after the wife gets in bed and the lights are turned off.
They laugh and sigh a little as they snuggle in but soon fall into the
silence of sleep. After a while, there is a take to black, immediately
fading up to the same room the next morning. They are still asleep
though both seem to be smiling. They look deeply comfortable.
From the light shining through the trees outside their broad window,
we see a reflection of unmistakably autumn-colored mostly red
leaves throughout the room, but mainly on their bed. We cannot see
this broad window, but we can see through a small window on the
19
same wall as their bed's headboard that the trees' leaves are near the
peak of their change of color.
Still smiling, the husband wakes up first as we see him glance out
the window and then comfortably "re-snuggle" in and hug his wife.
He whispers, "The tums are even more beautiful than yesterday,
Deary." The wife, also still smiling, awakes, turning her eyes to the
window, but then slowly freezes, realizing a state of horrified shock.
She stares out the window for nearly half a minute, then looks off
for another long while, apparently thinking panickedly. She looks
back outside and, after a little more time of thinking, says, seriously
and breathing heavily, "Earltake me to the hospital."
After having slowly zoomed in from showing her whole face, the
perspective ends up focusing on one of her eyes, which is not
looking directly ahead. After a few seconds, there is a take to a
similarly intense looking eye, positioned and looking as if it could
be the same eye as the woman's. The take is nearly unnoticeable.
*
After a few seconds, the extremely agitated-looking eye turns to
face forward, retaining its intensity. After a little while, the owner
of the eye begins to speak. Throughout his speech, the perspective
very slowly zooms out from his eye to reveal where he is. He is a
rather young man, probably in his twenties, fairly attractive. He
does not look or seem overly "insane", just incredibly confused and
sincerely bothered and moved, but not rushedly or maniacally; he
seems to be in a mood of residual but quieting fear from some
disturbing incident.
"Have you ever gone on a picnic with a group of people, and then
you go off on a walk with your two best friendsthey've been best
friends with you all your lifeand you close your eyes as you all
rest on a hill, lied down, relaxed, and then you open your eyes, and
they never existed. 'They weren't there' everyone saysbut they'd
always been there, and then they just were... gone. I told them to
20
keep track of the path that we took because they knew that I have a
bad sense of direction, and we were going through the woods... I
only closed my eyes for a few seconds, so I was surprised that they
could've gotten away so fast. I thought it was a joke at first, that it
was mean but still just a joke. After a while I thought they must've
gotten lost because it started getting scary for me to be aloneon a
big hill on the edge of a big and dead empty clearing in the middle
of deep woods. Why would they leave me there all by myself? I
tried to find my way back, but I got lost in the woods. I then
thought maybe they were taken captive while they were hiding from
me or when they got lostlike I wasand that I might stumble into
their captor who might kill me. But, no. When I finally got home, I
was called by one of the guys who was part of the picnic organizers.
He was worried about me. He said he was worried for me being off
on my own. 'But I wasn't on my own the whole time' I said. He
was confused. He thought I was high when I mentioned my two
best friends. This really bothered me. I called the cops... and they
said there were no records for my two best friends ever being born...
"It's like a glitch in the system, but it's nothing like The Matrix
nothing like a movie... It's a sign of something greater... I don't
think I'm crazy. Everything else in my life is normal, and was
normal until they disappeared and never existed. Before this,
everyone knew themeveryone talked to them... and about them
it wasn't just me. But now everyone says 'they never were'..."
Clenchingly, "I tell youit's a 'glitch in the system'a sign of
something greater..."
Seeming to shift focus for a bit, "I can't imagine that this has only
happened to me. This type of glitch could be happening all the
time. It happens to one person and everyone thinks they're crazy. If
it happens to a group of people, it's mass hysteria. What if it
happens and people don't remember before the glitch... That means
that glitches could be happening constantly...
21
23
Cold Images
We continue to hear a woman weeping as complete darkness slowly
shifts into some dim light, revealing images of relatively nearby
brown and red planets, stars, and asteroids. Some asteroids and one
planet appear possibly even less than a mile away, compared to the
edge of a brown-grey moon's cave from which we peer, and from
which we hear the weeping woman further in. Darkness slowly
reclaims our vision until light returns to illuminate black spiders
along thick watery webs stretched across a steep but small flowery
and bush-covered hill in front of a small old light blue cottage.
A few yards beyond the other side of the rain-pattered dirt road lie
heavy aged doors built into another small hill. They open to invite
us into an indoor pool area where tens of young students are being
taught to swim. The pool itself is about two hundred by fifty feet
long and wide, and maybe one hundred feet deep. A small, shylooking boy is directed to dive in and not come up until he touches
the bottom with his hand. We follow him through the increasingly
greenish water, until his pace slows behind ours. We peer through a
drain before he nears the bottom.
Passing through the drain, we are approaching the bottom of a dark
ocean, where we can see in the distance below us a halfdecomposed whale, with parts of its skeleton showing. While
continuing to descend, we pass over it on our way to a far darker
trench a small ways away. Soon, we only see black again, until we
arrive in a place far deeper than the ocean.
We enter a large ballroom in a seventeenth century castle-like
mansion. From the high ceiling hang ornate chandeliers just above
the height of rounded windows at the room's edges overlooking a
surrounding balcony and the nearby ocean's edge. One area of the
room's edges contains no windows, however, just the pipes of an
24
organ played all the while by an old lady in flowing purple who
stares into a mirror just below the organ pipes. Several nuns veiled
in black stand silently in front of the organ and behind a woman in
flowing white who appears to be giving birth. Several nuns in white
are by her side, comforting her and attending to fluids spilling over
the grey marble floor and down through a drain in the center of the
ballroom.
We focus in on this drain that soon appears to be that of an old
bathtub in a house whose walls are thin and rotting. Through a hole
in the bathroom wall we see a child playing with his dirtied toys,
surrounded by filth, trash, garbage, and a variety of broken things.
On one still-standing table we see milk solidified in glasses,
seafoam green and bright blue fur on salmon, a yogurty substance
lined with black-brown film upon peaches, and fuzzy blue-green,
slimy orange-yellow-white, and dark crusty purples upon old
chicken fried rice mixed with tiny crawling white worms.
From beyond the kitchen we see some spark growing, quickly
consuming the old wall in its way and catching onto the floor. Some
of the child's toys near the fire begin to melt, as he crawls toward
them, crying and screaming "No!". Soon all around is ablaze, part
of a thickening screen of burning white. After a short while, the
burning white becomes that of the sun.
We look back toward the ground that, though still puddled with
pools from yesterday's heavy rain, allowed a small house to level
into ash and grime except for most of a fireplace, some charred
planks jutting out from the ground, and a few scattered mostly
melted metal objects here and there. All directly outside of this
small area remains unscathed, however. Nearby grass remains
withered between soil corroded by a saltish substance seeping from
under lichen-, moss-, and sluggy-brown fungus-covered rocks
beneath a barely-recognizable molded and rotted, insect-infested
barkless tree trunk.
25
From across the puddled dirt road, our eye is caught by a wildhaired rustic-looking old lady in the distance seemingly running
away from us, holding a large fishing net solely composed of wood
and twine. She runs behind densely growing pines that tower above
the watery swamp where she was apparently fishing, as we notice
countless white birds perched in and swirling around the trees.
Behind us, on the other side of the burned house, to its left, we find
that the sun is near setting. We stare beyond a field dotted with
power lines and rolls of hay as the light fades quickly, exiting with a
tiny glint of purple and peach glowing beneath small, round wispy
clouds departing far into distant plains, all beneath the first and lone
star of night.
After a momentary shift to black, we are presented with an area lit
similarly to where we just were, but it is now morning, and peach
and purple shine with blood oranges and pinks upon a collapsed
shed. Its rusted roof bends to expose junk from broken lamps to
moldy disintegrating magazines, and its sides of rotting wooden
planks are lined with year-old fallen branches.
We follow an oil- and garbage-filled creek behind the shed until it
empties into a pond beside an ugly mess of an abandoned
construction site that looks like a long-forgotten disaster area. What
was once just starting to be built has become nearly unrecognizably
rusted, molded, or also fallen, and wooden planks, machinery, and
rods are strewn about as if a tornado had rampaged through the area.
The pond leaks into a swampy backyard nearby. Beyond some trees
behind a near-dilapidated once white-painted small home, small
streams form down a mossy hill, flowing over small amphibious
creatures from newts and lizards to small alligators. We peer under
the moss into a recently-dug hole to see other creatures, from large
pink larvae with claw-like legs, to long caterpillars hairless but for
26
30
Grisworld
A child beseeches his mother, "What if I died today?"
To the sonorous but non-melodic howl of some low indigenous flute
accompanied by an electrical drone, I can still see, slowly turning
toward me, a tall man well-dressed in mostly whitefrom a suit to
fedora and glovesbut with half of a sewn-together bloody leather
mask covering half of a grotesquely malformed, burnt, lacerated,
and rotting face exposing muscle and bone. I can now more fully
see his oddly neutral expression, but less clearly, as my sight
becomes gradually flooded with translucent semi-iridescent
seemingly electrical flashing spots that heavily obscure my vision of
both him and, now overlapping him, an enormous orange sun
overcoming an expansive horizon of countless rows of grapes
covering an area that resembles an African savannah.
A man with bloodshot eyes rushes to a bathroom mirror and angrily
shouts to himself, "Where is the blood!?" His anger dissipates as
the words leave his mouth, and he slowly begins to walk away.
A few rounded haystacks lay upon a grassy knoll surrounded by an
old stone wall mostly covered in thorny plants of red berries and
red-tinted small and round leaves. In the distance sway tall grass,
bushy trees, and some dead and bare trees.
"My friend Jeff stays over every weekend and sleeps in my room.
Over the past few months, I've noticed that he will predictably get
up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and stay in there
for about a half hour. He isn't using the bathroom, though, but just
standing stilly and silently in there, and with the lights off. I asked
his family about it and they were astonished. They told me he never
does anything like this in their home where he lives. They said he
hardly ever gets up in the middle of the night and has no history of
31
At the distant end of a field at the very end of dusk, the girl again
finds her tall hooded dark figure. He stands motionlessly as before,
until he begins to rushedly charge toward her.
Heading south, passing through a desert ghost town as the sun is just
rising, the young man notices to his right several worn horse
carcasses propped up on wooden poles. Beyond this area lie chains
of fields extending far from and along both sides of the road.
Scattered among these fields hang propped-up scarecrows that are
very possibly dead burnt human bodies, hats covering charred and
disfigured faces. After a few more minutes of driving, the young
man begins to notice people approaching the sides of the road from
all directions, wearing the skulls of goats and antelopes, and
carrying large bones as clubs.
The old hotel worker checks the blood-filled swimming pool after
another month to find most of it drying or dried.
A man dreams of hearing from the hall outside his room a crazedsounding screaming woman clacking the floor with the sounds of
bones for her feet. The man dreaming looks into the hall still
hearing this but seeing nothing in either direction, before being
awoken by banging on the outside of his window, a mostly
decomposed woman pleading to be let in, as if being chased.
Beautiful apparent female models of different races, heights, shapes,
and hair color all lie dead in cages within their own rectangular tube
filled with water, of hundreds of tubes of all different heights spread
throughout an enormous warehouse. One apparently living woman
awakes with a strong jerk, her eyes fire blue but quickly fading. She
screams violently as her eyes continue to fade, only to hear a loudly
echoing female-sounding robotic voice projected from a large
speaker within one of the cages: "Two seconds of your life remain."
34
porcelain eye mask only for it to be dropped and broken just as any
remaining light is lost.
From the top floor of an unoccupied mall late at night, a woman
leaves her crying child strapped into his stroller near the mall's
indoor balcony, as she bends head-first over the glass and metal
railing to fall six floors into a fountain soon bubbling with parts of
her brain and a deepening red.
36
Closing Images
Though I can only see pitch blackness, I hear rushing winds outside
my window on a small airplane, mixed with the pattering of summer
rain on old pavement, mixed with the conversational though
unintelligible voices of those besides me on this plane. I hear the
crackling of the plane's old speakers and, over the intercom, a man's
low raspy voice.
"Dark skies ahead, dark skies ahead."
*
Out of this blackness I begin to notice a middle-aged woman beside
me weeping and slowly sauntering through a misty summer
afternoon light rain on a country road. I turn to my left and begin to
leave her side as I float beside her, then behind her, then high over
her. I notice now that the landscape below me is mostly flat, and
that the woman is walking to the right of what is either a wide river
or a long lake. I look up toward the sky to see an intensely orange
sun whose color is affecting none of the grey-blue sky around it. I
continue to focus on the sun over the weeping woman whose cry I
can longer hear. I do begin to hear some mellifluously melodious
dramatic weeping of some woman, though, a cry uttered as if a
performance. The voice seems to be coming from the sun, and,
across this distance, it echoes as if over a vast ocean inexplicably
carrying and amplifying its sound. I hear now two women similarly
singingly weeping, and then three more, and then I begin to hear
men's voices with sweeping crescendos and diminuendos in volume
and intensity but with fluidity and sweetness. The number of voices
increases, and exponentially, until I can no longer identify how
many voices are added at once, though I can identify that each voice
is unique and performed with its own nuance and intensity; this is
not merely a few recordings multiplied. The adding of voices seems
to coincide with the adding of clouds that begin to slowly then
quickly rush past the sun and multiply enough to gradually block
37
out its light, from orange to dark orange, to dark grey with some
orange glow, until there is only blackness once again. At this point,
which has only been less than a minute, the weeping is deafening
and ringing in choruses of echoes not only of the original sound of
each voice, but of echoes of echoes and for each of the likely
thousands of voices. I hear a singular pound of a gigantic and
intensely deep and deeply-resonating drum, and this silences all of
the voices, though fading echoes still remain.
*
As the echoes finally dissipate after about another minute, I hear the
nearby giggles and snickering of two children, but only faintly
compared with an organ's loud drone that also nearly covers the
faded vocalizations of a rehearsing choir several yards beyond the
sound of papers and curtains seemingly rustled by the organ's strong
vibrations. I now sense that I am crawling in a lightless and
moderately narrow rounded tunnel behind a cathedral organ
following two girls as they whisper and rejoice in escaping an
elementary-school-aged children's youth group meeting across the
hall from this Gothic, echoing sanctuary. I hear the activity in the
sanctuary less and less as we continue to crawl forward. After
moments of near complete darkness, I gradually begin to make out a
bluish outline to the crumbling walls as an open room is neared, just
a few more dozen yards of crawling ahead. This light and the girls'
laughter grow exponentially until they are finally able to hop into a
stance in the room now clearly just a sudden widening and
heightening of a tunnel that only continues monotonously ahead.
What light there is seeps through a small hole seemingly drilled
through the ceiling, lighting our steps less and less past the hole and
until there is access to neither light nor sound from outside of the
tunnel. The girls continue to whisper and giggle, but less and less as
we go on. Eventually there comes a corner to turn, where the girls'
whispering and giggling halts completely with two panicked gasps
before shocked silence. About a minute's worth of walking down
the tunnel as it continues uncurled ahead, there stands the vague but
certain outline of a motionlessly posed man wearing a long beard,
38
long hair, and a trailing robe. I hear their hysterically terrified and
helpless screams as complete darkness returns once again.
*
Their screams become more distant and overwhelmed by the sounds
of rushing cars on a secondary highway in some tree-filled suburb
dotted with chain restaurants and different stores selling things as
different as bicycles, gravel, and cell phones. I only see the area
above this highway fully after some length of slow transitioning
from blackness; but it is still a dark night. I float parallel above the
road yet slowly descend onto its eastward side as a car catches up
with me and I land in its passenger seat. The driver is a wellgroomed, proper business man in a supple moderately dark-grey suit
with a neatly-ironed white shirt and iridescent-blue tie. He is
driving carefully but his mind is clearly distant and drained.
As we round a bend, out of the corner of my eye I catch the large
outline of an "alien"-shaped balloon figure about a half a mile in the
distance, neon green, probably forty feet tall, swaying in the gentle
wind, its fingers dangling in all directions and slowly spinning as
they wave passersby. The driver next to me reacts to this outline
with a look of surprise, but he quickly fades back into a glazed and
drained posture of eyes and body as he probably realizes as I do that
this must be some prop at a car dealership celebrating a sale. As we
pass the "alien", I can see in the rearview mirror that it has swiveled
as if by a sturdy wire tied between it and the car. I turn around and
observe that any wind has seemingly died down as now neither the
alien nor its fingers continue to sway randomly. The alien's fingers
seem to come to stillness not gradually, however, but as if moved by
the creature that the balloon portrays. The driver notices none of
these motions, however.
A few miles ahead, as trees become more numerous and variegated
and as the road's winds more closely match the curves of the natural
landscape, to the left, a potentially newly-constructedwellcemented and unweatheredstone wall seems randomly placed. As
39
I quizzically stare, I notice that the wall extends for some length and
that, further down, people are lined up sitting on this wall that would
be a rather high fall. They are lined up all the way into the distance,
maybe numbering even a hundred. As the car nears these people, it
can be seen that they are each staring fixedly in front of them,
motionless both in body and in eyes. Each person also appears at
least nearly identicalin both posture and even physical
appearanceand they each look very much like the driver, who
seems to acknowledge this resemblance in a look of surprise
strikingly more emotive than his prior reaction to the balloon. As I
squint further in this night now unlit by lamps of stores and
restaurants, I see that each of these people is also dressed in the
makeup of a frowning clown, with only dark red and chalk-white
paint and red curly wigs. Otherwise, they look exactly like the
driver. He decidedly speeds up, rushing past these clowns who do
not change position even in his passing them. I turn around,
however, and notice that the last one we have passed by is slowly
turning his head. Though it is dark, it appears that, unlike the other
clowns, this one has no eyes, just empty sockets.
The driver has not slowed his car, even as the road becomes windier,
hillier, and more narrow. It seems that we are no longer on a
secondary highway. Yet after some patches of naturally-grown trees
and unlandscaped roadsides, we reach a seemingly highly populated
residential area. With a look of some relief, the driver dramatically
lessens his speed and begins breathing more slowly, though more
audibly, and his face once again loses its animation, almost settling
back into an appearance of dissociationbut for barely perceptible
small twitches pulling at the corners of his eyes and mouth.
The houses all are newly-built and identical, as if large exactly
square plastic dollhouses simply placed on newly leveled woods.
They extend far beyond the edges of the road, however, into subdevelopments that wind back into woods currently-unleveled yet
marked with orange signs displaying numeric codes underneath the
40
I drift toward the dirt road and notice that it is dotted with branches
seemingly fallen after some storm or storms possibly months
passedweedy grasses have grown to lean over some of them. I
stay fixed at the road's edge where I can see on its other side a small
field with gardens and crops over which the sun is slowly rising.
The sky is tinted green toward the horizon with slight strokes of
neon pink. Most of the sky is still dark, but it is quickly lightening.
As I stare into the sun, it illuminates the ground several feet beneath
me where I now notice, slowly flowing from the direction of the
ravine, a thick and glistening stream of dark red paint collecting in
the center of the road. About a quarter mile away in the direction
which I am faced, toward the field green with cabbages, corn, and
grasses of different heights, I see a car approaching, driven
cautiously and slowly. It is a maroon boxy compact car possibly
twenty years old driven by a thin young man either in his early
twenties or late teens. While he approaches, I turn my head toward
the small white ranch-style somewhat dilapidated house to my right
which I did not attend to before, lying on the edge of the field of
crops and gardens but only a few yards from the road. Toward the
right edge of the house's small yardthat is filled with rusted tires,
wheels, and parts of various automobile machinery, I notice a
large bear-like animal turned toward an old rusted and low barbedwire fence overgrown by thickets that are creeping up from the edge
of a small brook twisting out from a forest behind the field.
I turn back to the young man driving the car and can now see that he
is looking only a few feet in front of him as he drives to avoid fallen
branches of different sizes every few dozen yards. Out of the corner
of my right eye I see what must be the large animal slowly moving
away from the fence and moving between all the old equipment
filling the house's yard. As I turn back toward the house, it becomes
clear that this is not an animal but a large yet only moderately tall
man dressed in a bear suit and a leather pig mask with sewn-on
tusks and ram horns. And I can now see that he is holding a yetunlit red candle that he is waving as if to catch the attention of the
43
young driver whom he may have been waiting for. As I hear the
splash of the young man's tires through the thick red paint slowly
flowing from the forest behind me, I turn and see him staring at the
man with a candle in confusion and fear and no longer steering
along the center of the road. Veering into the edge of the forest, he
only notices the need to sharply steer back onto the road a moment
before he crunches his front bumper into a tree. At the sound of the
slight crunch, the man in the yard drops his candle and picks up an
axe hidden amongst all the other metal covering the yard. Noticing
the man's axe, the young driver rushes to back onto the road again,
but his wheels spin in the dirt of the road and forest that has mixed
with the paint carried on his wheels from a few yards back. In this
amount of time, the man in the fur suit has been able to make his
first explosive swing at the young man's window while the young
man unbuckles, grabs the backs of the two front seats to lunge
himself into the rear of the car interior, and thrusts his body as low
to the floor as he can between maps, bottles of soda, papers, and
notebooks. But the man with the axe simply lifts the handle of the
unlocked door, hurls himself into the car interior, and begins
chopping at the young man's body. With each collision of axe and
body, instead of cries or crunches, I hear bursts of electric buzzing
that become louder with each chop and in between a drone baseline
buzz increasing in volume with each intermittent burst. Slowly all
sounds around me are swallowed by the electric buzzing, though the
scene of the young man's car is still at hand and continuously further
illuminated by the rising sun with brighter yellows that melt through
the dissipating pinks and greens.
*
This scene slowly fades out as another scene slowly fades in, a view
of a small room lined with stones and cement for its walls, ceiling,
and floor, with the electric buzzing continuing from the last scene.
Lit only by the outside sun filtered through two small burrows in the
back walleach burrow covered with six vertically-positioned iron
bars, half the space in this dusty room is occupied by two six-foot
tall and wide eyeballs exactly reminiscent of the young driver's
44
beyond this, a church is still standing, yet with a front door broken
in half and fallen off the hinges.
*
I pass through the doorway into this small alabaster church, and I
see cages bordering either side of the sanctuary walls that are lined
with dark blue, green, and red stained-glass windows decorated with
asymmetrical shapes. The cages are filled with female and male
children and adults screaming and crying, writhing in pain of torture
from the whips, clubs, claws, and snarls of animated human
skeletons, half-decomposed bodies, and one-horned creatures
having red scaly skin and the contorted faces of demons. My
perspective moves toward the center of the white-painted woodenfloor aisle cloaked with a long red, silky carpet. As I look up further
in front of me, I see a gilded ornate altar draped with cloth of the
same material as the red carpet on which rests a worn but gilded and
ornate bible. Beyond the altar is a black velvet curtain roped to the
ceiling, hiding the rest of the sanctuary. In front of this curtain, I see
a large and heavily muscular red-scaled two-horned man with the
face of a demon snarling and grinning while slowly lifting into view
from below his waist a crying infant wrapped in a long and narrow
white cloth. The demon lifts the infant higher to the point where it
is above its head, the demon's enormous, bulging, and tapered red
arms extended as far as possible. As the wild ceremonial music has
crescendoed to a point of torturously deafening and violent ferocity,
he lets out a much louder snarl coinciding with the last pounding of
the drum now loud enough not only to silence choirs of weeping but
also the sun. I see and hear nothing except the echoes of the
demon's last snarl. Amidst these echoes that continuously fade as
they seem to ripple in all directions around me, I hear a small boy
whisper.
"There was more bad in the world than good."
46
Unreplaced Moments
Rushing through the woods at an accelerating pace, knowing the sun
will soon set but knowing you may be lost, your mouth dries as your
stomach weakens and nearly all your muscles shake. But, you see a
lighted opening in the distance while your hopes soar and you
gently chastise yourself for doubting your navigating abilities.
Upon clearing enough branches and brushy limbs out of your way,
your lips begin to tremble and your eyes lose focus as you don't yet
believe what you are seeing: tall, yellow grass surrounded on all
sides by tall thick pines. Your mouth redries, your stomach
resickens, and your muscles reshake as you are nearly overwhelmed
with dizziness. The pungent smell of decaying weeds and grass and
untamed wildness overcomes you, but you suddenly hold stiller than
you thought you could at the sound of a low growl coming from the
woods to the right. An upright grizzly bear sniffing the air walks
closely past you as you forcefully cover your face, his frothing
mouth stained and dripping with blood. As he disappears into the
dark woods ahead of you to your left, you slowly turn at a pace that
exponentially quickens with your heart, breathing, tears, and
trembling. After about a mile of panicked running, you come to a
rocky semi-clearing where you find two bear cubs and a large adult
torn and mangled, their innards and blood spread throughout the
open area.
In the heavy rain I am in a different forest, trying to keep from
slipping on the increasingly muddying path down an increasingly
steep incline. I can see less and less in front of me and slip several
times before I confront the reality that I need to wait this out. But I
am cold and coughing and I have hurt myself from scrapes and falls.
I crouch in a convenient hut-like opening under a large fir and I rock
myself to steady my mind and rushing pulse. I turn slightly at a
small sound I think nothing of until I scrape my face on large antlers
positioned directly next to me. I rush to back up, but this large elk
47
of the girls grabs his lantern while another takes the blankets from
their bed to throw over the older woman. The lantern is broken over
the woman's head as she is lit on fire. Losing her paralysis, she runs
into the guard as they are both slowly consumed in flames to the
accompaniment of echoing deranged howls.
*
Into some darkened bedroom, a middle-aged woman enters to kiss
and cryingly whisper to an unresponsive elderly man. Turning her
head toward the ceiling, she takes a nearby pillow and smothers the
man, all while he remains unresponsive.
*
We see a woman laughingly conversing with a very large and
muscular socially-confident and -adept gay man, through smoke
from across the main room at a heavily-patronized old-fashioned
upscale urban bar.
Her face several years older, she is walking through shallow, narrow
concrete hallways with polished walls appearing to be composed of
separate large stone blocks. After several corners, the hallway shifts
to become more spacious and of white plaster. Thick brown
windows appear on either side at this point, appearing at even
intervals aside similarly windowed metallic doors. The woman
stops at the eleventh door on the right side of the hallway. She
enters the open door only after a length of stilly deliberating in silent
calm. The room is well-lit, even from just the pure white sky past
the room's large window.
She only approaches a short distance past the entry before being
joltingly struck at his skeletal and bruised appearance. She begins
to quiver slightly, her eyes momentarily still, but unfocused. Her
face then quickly softens and contorts, her eyes swelling. She
slowly approaches all the while, appearing in basic cognitive
composure, and enough to attempt restraining her body's tumult. He
was expecting her and smiles only as much as he can, with his eyes,
and with obvious great effort. She kneels by him as they say
50
nothing. She touches his hair and face with gentleness, still shaking
slightly. She only daintily lays her right hand on the edge of his bed
to keep minimal balance of her posture, strugglingly maintaining her
bent position with her legs and back. The man's faint shifting of
facial positioning begins to stop only after several minutes, as he
seems to let himself fall into a sleep. As the time progresses further
and further past his waking, the woman appears more and more still,
but unfocused.
She is startled slightly by the knock of a doctor who came from the
room at the start of the white hall, where there are monitors of the
machines connected to the tubes attached to the man's body. As the
woman quickly regains her composure while focusing her eyes
toward the doctor, she also begins to intensely stiffen listening to the
doctor's few even-toned speeches, her eyes slowly drifting into a
fixed limp positioning. The doctor and woman stay in their current
postures for the rest of the last minutes of Fred's last hour. Michelle
is stayed in her contorted, exact position, the doctor only generally
still.
*
I have traveled days and come only here,
to this cave filled with ice.
Yet at least it overlooks some grassy field
where some berries may grow.
But it is far
and I am weary.
So as I leave the cave
and approach a hill of snow,
I let myself sink,
and as I suffocate,
I dream of beauty,
that life is worthwhile.
Despite the destruction of modern civilization,
an emerging power of a tribal people
51
52
Curious Images
53
Unnatural Images
To the electronically manipulated and amplified sounds of water
sloshing up and down in a bottle of water, we awake from a dream
but can still see the fading, flickering image of a man in the desert
running up a distant hill of sand, his four-foot raggedy black top hat
flopping a bit as he moves jerkingly, rigidly in his tight oldfashioned black suit.
Gradually, the sound of the water fades while overlapping with the
gradually loudening tune of a harp somehow perfectly matching the
sounds of the water in time and timbre. The water becomes the
subtle sloshing of a toilet beneath us as we see through the crack in
our stall a middle-aged woman playing a large harp beyond this
1930's-fashioned bathroom's window. She is wearing a faded grey
and pink nightgown that gently blows with the wind of the currently
greyed sky.
As we stand upright on the large black and white tiled floor to
emerge from our black-painted stall, we notice about a dozen living
and dead moths of bluish to greenish pastels positioned along the
intricately carved moderately darkly stained walls, on one of the
relatively ornate sinks, and on one of the urinals opposite the
propped-open door where we exit, but not before a moth that flies
over our heads in front of us.
We notice directly ahead an ornately carved widely spiraling
staircase coated with bright red carpeting. While the moth proceeds
in that direction, we are startled by the energetic humming of a late
adolescent boy hiding under a large leather jacket while lying on a
bench to our left. He stretches his arm out slowly before peering out
smilingly, seemingly ready to get up. Something seems to cause
him to slow his singing, energy, and movements rather suddenly,
though, as he recoils into his jacket and initial silence.
54
us further inland and hurl us through the misty sky until we fall
through the opened sunroof of a noodle-free car driving through
windy and wooded roads. Soon after we settle in, at a sharp bend in
the road in an area thickly wooded enough to block out most of the
sun, we notice a black, shiny, stick-like yet flexible monkey-ish and
deer-ish creature quickly squiggle and shift across the road. The
driver doesn't seem to notice and we continue safely around the
bend to face a more sparsely treed area around the corner.
Ahead to our left, we see seven black buffalo running through a
marshy field filled with purple flowers. While typifying the basic
movements of running, they advance as if in slow motion; the car is
moving much faster than they.
The driver pulls off to the right to get a closer look. Even though
we are nearly jogging to follow him across the gravel road, we do
not cover enough distance to reach the buffalo, as, by the time we
reach the middle of the field, they have disappeared into the dark
woods off to the right, even at their slow pace. We peer into the
woods, but it is too dark and thick to proceed.
Our driver instead heads for the more penetrable woods of curly
pine treeswith thin foliage mostly around their topsdirectly
behind the field, further away from the road. We follow close
behind him while also darting the soggiest pockets of the marshy
purple field. Upon reaching the edge of the woods, however, we
notice that there is even less dry ground to walk on in there. Around
tree trunks and all sorts of grasses and cabbage-like plants, several
sometimes deep streams and vernal pools flow to a lake just beyond
these small woods. A bit to our left, though, we see and decide to
follow a cleared path built on top of the water.
Upon reaching the lake, for some reason, we decide to swim
through it. We choose to land at the closest shore of the other side's
grassy expansive area. After a bit of trying and waiting to dry, we
57
notice a bit in the distance to our right a small area where the ground
is filled with bananas, seeming like a desert oasis. We also see a
thin black cat wearing a clear glass jewel-dotted yellow cloth collar
winding aimlessly through these bananas that line the ground in
piles, fallen from bushes and trees above.
Much further in the distance, we begin to hear a man screaming,
running from our right to our left. He kicks up dust in a straight line
while flailing his arms and legs as if shooing invisible flying
creatures. We notice, as he comes within earshot, that he is
screaming, "Get away from me! Get away from me!" Although, it
is clear that he has neither seen us nor the cat, the only life evident
within the miles we can see in all directions.
All the contours and colors within our vision suddenly shift into
random, angular shapes of iridescent blues, reds, and greens. As
these rearrange and somehow swirl, we notice in between moments
an outline to a low hilly area where its horizon is filled with mist
before a light blue strip of a subtle sunset. We hear the heavy
breathy sound of a wide-rimmed and thick bamboo flute pouring
through all the air around us. We again wake up on the toilet of our
original bathroom where, just outside, our nightgowned lady friend
is playing a thick bass shakuhachi to accompany the setting sun.
58
Curious Exchanges
I. Barbara
Barbara [1:48 AM]: HI
Barbara [1:48 AM]: you dead?
Schaffner32 [1:48 AM]: ...possibly
Barbara [1:48 AM]: you have finals? of course you do. I'm writing
a 10-15 page paper right now
Schaffner32 [1:48 AM]: nope no finals at my school :D
Barbara [1:48 AM]: you're joking
Barbara [1:49 AM]: when do you get home? or will you be going to
sturbridge?
Schaffner32 [1:50 AM]: may 7th and will help family move for a
couple weeks
Barbara [1:50 AM]: wow you get home really early
Barbara [1:50 AM]: right after my BIRTHDAY
Barbara [1:51 AM]: can you send me something goofy for my
birthday, like a homemade card or something?
Barbara [1:51 AM]: that would make me laugh a ton I think
Schaffner32 [1:52 AM]: the movers will do big stuff in later June
when I'll be gone for a while
Barbara [1:52 AM]: my b'day may 5. remember we had my
'surprise party' at lido's. haha so fun
Barbara [1:52 AM]: ah yes
Schaffner32 [1:52 AM]: hehe
Schaffner32 [1:52 AM]: hehe... hehe.
Barbara [1:52 AM]: lol I really lol-ed, but you didn't
Barbara [1:52 AM]: prob not
Barbara [1:52 AM]: you have lots o work?
Schaffner32 [1:53 AM]: it's dwindling but yes
Schaffner32 [1:53 AM]: last day of classes today
Barbara [1:54 AM]: wow!
Barbara [1:54 AM]: that's so great
59
Schaffner32: Good.
Barbara: I don't
Barbara: don't wish you were dead
Barbara: althoguh I'm sure heaven's fun and great
Schaffner32: Ok. You should.
Barbara: no
Barbara: did you enjoy extra hour sleep?
Schaffner32: I slept much. I slept 24 hours from Fri to Sat because
I didn't sleep a few days this week, but made up for during week but
then didn't from Thu to Fri.
**
II. Mel
Schaffner32: hillo
Schaffner32: how is your head?
Mel: its ok-thank you-and yours?
Schaffner32: fine....Do you remember coming into my room last
night?
Mel: yes- im sorry- idont drink much and i had something to drink
Schaffner32: that's ok. how was your day?
Mel: odd
Schaffner32: I woke up a little while ago. I have sleep problems.
why odd?
Mel: i had those in hs-i slept like 14 hours a week for monthsummmm- well i dont know about charles and i
Mel: he is a nice boy
Mel: but
Mel: i need a nice man
Mel: haha
Mel: no
Mel: i kid
Mel: i think wed make good friends
Schaffner32: good friends or more?
Mel: i dont know- i had a boyfriend for a year-thats all ive ever
had- i dont know much about dating or relationships
64
Mel: !!!
Schaffner32: Are you Russian?
Mel: nope
Schaffner32: Is that Russian? yes?
Mel: do i look like a spy!?!!?- its german then spanish
Schaffner32: wow. Good job.
Mel: hehehehe
Mel: when i type hehe
Mel: i mean it in an evil cackle way
Mel: like a dirty old man
Schaffner32: I love dirty old men.
Mel: you dont get that on computer lingo
Mel: ME TOO
Schaffner32: Great!
Mel: thats why im catholic
Schaffner32: I'm so jealous.....
Mel: hehehehe- too bad im not a boy though.sigh
Schaffner32: You can be. You know you can....
Mel: its so true
Mel: i have this funny song
Schaffner32: It's ok.
Schaffner32: Sing.
Mel: called my vagina
Mel: about a boy
Mel: who is made a girl
Mel: and my fav line is
Mel: now i show all my friends my new designer cut!
Mel: heheheheh haha
Schaffner32: That's precious.
Schaffner32: awww.
Mel: hehe-do you enjoy those kinds of songs?
Schaffner32: I just threw up.
Schaffner32: I like throwing up, though.
Mel: are you ok!?!!!?!?!
Mel: im concerned
66
Schaffner32: Ok.
Mel: you can feed my roommate- she is SO DEMANDING!
Mel: you have to pet her and wash her too
Mel: take her for walks
Schaffner32: Is she ugly?
Schaffner32: I hope not.
Mel: nope
Mel: she has a little whip though
Mel: she bought it
Schaffner32: Good. Then, I'll have sex with her then eat her. I
don't like whips.
Mel: for her dominatrix costume
Schaffner32: Who's D. Omina Trix?
Mel: CVS- ill bring you the goods soon
Schaffner32: You betta, baba.
Mel is away at 7:04 PM
*
movie tonight me tinks is bueno-me come get you-i need to buy
crickets-possibly chopping?-jenga and the like-nanana
love always
spawn of evil
*
Poop is schedule for me and have to clean attic and finish school
applications and such, so I think it would be better if we went to
movie at school. Vacation did go by and it stopped soon or and will
you see. Um I am here and now and then and you and me.
Maybe we can see Big Fish first weekend (next weekend) and we
can ride the bus and maybe die. You say? How good?
Breath,
Anen?
**
III. Sheep and Nervous Vomiting
68
hate you just like hte sheep I frolicked with yesterday but I loved
them but not their poop (feces) all over the ground
*
Did they really frolick? You should show me pictures of them doing
that. (But not pooping)
*
Barbara [10:24 AM]: just threw up
Barbara [10:24 AM]: momentous morning
Schaffner32 [10:24 AM]: good/why/describe
Barbara [10:24 AM]: dunno
Barbara [10:25 AM]: might be b/c nervous
Barbara [10:25 AM]: cause had diarrhea too
Barbara [10:25 AM]: (nervous about Jake)
Barbara [10:25 AM]: but. i've never thrown up from nervousness,
so maybe not\
Barbara [10:25 AM]: gonna go sleep now. bibeastie
Schaffner32 [10:25 AM]: Did you save it? You could leave it by
his door to show him.
Barbara [10:25 AM]: LOL!!!!
Barbara [10:25 AM]: thanks for making laugh
Schaffner32 [10:25 AM]: so that he knows you care about him.
Barbara [10:25 AM]: that is so sick
Barbara [10:25 AM]: LOL!!!
Barbara [10:26 AM]: LOL!!!
Barbara [10:26 AM]: I love it. bye
Schaffner32 [10:26 AM]: I mean in a bag. Ok, bi
Barbara [10:26 AM]: just realized had sound on and K trying to
sleep bye
Barbara [10:26 AM]: LOL ew bye
Barbara [10:26 AM]: lol very funny though
Barbara [10:26 AM]: the note could say;
Barbara [10:26 AM]: "just a little something to let you know I care"
Barbara [10:26 AM]: LOL!
Schaffner32 [10:26 AM]: I didn't think it was a bad idea really.
69
Schaffner32: exacutelly.
Schaffner32: ricko iglesias. hhaa it's something else
Barbara: enrique
Schaffner32: enrico, I think. I wanted to mix Ricki Martin and him
in half. I
like how that sentence doesn't make sense and I sort of
planned it after I realized it after hearing it in my head.
Schaffner32: right, enrique
Schaffner32: I typed enrico before you typed enrique . ha--ha.
Barbara: LOL
Barbara: you didn't really laugh did you? lia
Schaffner32: (didn't really laugh--I didn't)
Barbara: liar lair pants on fire
Barbara: of course you didn't
Schaffner32: I started typing that I didn't before you accused me,
actually.
Schaffner32: :0
Barbara: you hardly ever do smileyus
Schaffner32: I'm not really smiling either.
Barbara: lol course not
Barbara: relaly lol
Schaffner32: I only laugh when someone dies.
Barbara: !! lol
Schaffner32: I actually laughed as I typed that, though...
Barbara: LOL good'
Barbara: laughing too
Schaffner32: oops clicked out. what'd you just say?
Barbara: just 'laughing too'
Schaffner32: can you send a copy of the whole im in an email thus
far?
Barbara: yeah
Barbara: why
Barbara: for movie?
Schaffner32: yes
Schaffner32: FOR REAL
71
and around and over and in and about in Tues or Weds I suppose.
Barbara [3:26 PM]: bus?
Barbara [3:27 PM]: I know beast
Schaffner32 [3:27 PM]: No... I have too much stuff. I think my
parents are picking me up.
Barbara [3:28 PM]: good
Schaffner32 [3:28 PM]: U?
Barbara [3:28 PM]: tues, flying
Barbara [3:28 PM]: 1 hour 10 min flight
Schaffner32 [3:29 PM]: shut up! no way! shut uuuuahuahp!
(accompanied by stupid smile(s) and laughs...)
Barbara [3:29 PM]: LOL!!!!!!
Barbara [3:29 PM]: SHUT UP!!
Barbara [4:20 PM]: bib
Barbara [4:20 PM]: have to study a lot now
Barbara [4:20 PM]: bi
Barbara [4:20 PM]: beast
Barbara [4:21 PM]: by tli soon!! SOON
*
Mel [3:15 PM]: hello demon.
Schaffner32 [3:15 PM]: I know. I wrote before if you were home,
bitch, but I suppose you were offline.
Schaffner32 [3:18 PM]: You yes at home in house or elsewhere
that is near or is or was or is in the area of which is in or of and or
your is home or house child?
Mel [3:18 PM]: yesyes
Schaffner32 [3:19 PM]: good.
Mel [3:19 PM]: tis a snowing like crazzzzzzzzy
Schaffner32 [3:19 PM]: Here it is but doesn't appear to be coming
down hard, just a lot.
Mel [3:20 PM]: mmmhm
Mel [3:20 PM]: mmmm
Mel [3:20 PM]: hmmmm
Mel [3:20 PM]: so
Mel [3:21 PM]: what is up at the syracuse universitaaaaaay
75
Schaffner32 [5:40 PM]: I want to but did so I did want to but not
really, but if it was that I did not yet see it, I'd want to even though I
didn't really before I saw it.
Mel [5:42 PM]: so
Schaffner32 [5:42 PM]: (It's almost death o'clock. Where are your
children?) So you want to go hiking in Vietnam or see a movie or
have children or shop or eat something and die?
Mel [5:42 PM]: weshall see it but not for the first time but close to
the second- not quite yes?
Schaffner32 [5:42 PM]: See what?
Mel [5:43 PM]: that thing about those people....
Schaffner32 [5:43 PM]: Kindergarten? Angels? ABC?
Mel [5:44 PM]: what weould you like to view devil?
Mel [5:45 PM]: think on this
Mel [5:45 PM]: i call you soon
Mel [5:45 PM]: this weekender
Mel [5:45 PM]: yesyes?
Mel [5:45 PM]: ok
Mel [5:46 PM]: byebye
Schaffner32 [5:46 PM]: I ok. Bye. Ok? Uob.
Schaffner32 [5:46 PM]: Bi
**
V. Mel and the Movies, Spring Semester 2004
Mel [1:36 AM]: i fucking love you
Mel [1:36 AM]: you fuck
Schaffner32 [1:36 AM]: I fucking eat your fuck
Mel [1:36 AM]: doubly.
Schaffner32 [1:38 AM]: I was just going to send something rather
disturbing... I decided not to unless you want to read it..
Mel [1:39 AM]: what type of disturbing?
Schaffner32 [1:39 AM]: dead baby joke disturbing
Mel [1:40 AM]: send it
Schaffner32 [1:40 AM]: "If you ever have a baby, you know I'll eat
it before you can ever fuck it!"
79
Schaffner32 [3:56 PM]: I don't believe him... I'm going to his room
right now.
Mel [3:57 PM]: dont hurt him
Schaffner32 [3:57 PM]: never mind... ask him if he's used it to go
to the carousel before. if he says no, only *then* I'll hurt him, don't
worry.
Mel [3:58 PM]: yea he hast
Schaffner32 [3:58 PM]: is that supposed to be "has" or "hasn't" you
silly little no-fingered handicap!
Mel is away at 3:59 PM
Mel [3:59 PM]: has
Schaffner32 [3:59 PM]: fine. He better believe himself or else he'll
be not again and again and thus unconqueshed.
Mel [4:00 PM]: kkk
[...]
Schaffner32 [4:08 PM]: I ain't a stupid blowhole, Mary.
Mel [4:08 PM]: yes you are
Mel [4:08 PM]: your my fav blowhole
Schaffner32 [4:08 PM]: thank you.
Mel [4:14 PM]: meet me downstairs
Mel [4:14 PM]: we are going to buy crickets
Mel [4:14 PM]: nownow
Schaffner32 [4:15 PM]: what?
Mel [4:16 PM]: we need to take a taxi
Mel [4:16 PM]: to get crickets
Mel [4:16 PM]: for my gecko
Mel [4:16 PM]: nownow
Mel [4:16 PM]: NOW
Mel [4:16 PM]: does your phone work?
Schaffner32 [4:16 PM]: yes... call and explain now.
Mel [4:16 PM]: nono
Mel [4:16 PM]: can you call sutaxi and tell them to come to bb
Mel [4:17 PM]: we need to be driven to 3150 eerie blvd.
Mel [4:17 PM]: to petco
Mel [4:17 PM]: im paying- i just want some company
87
**
VI. Randomness
Yanks42423 [11:28 PM]: u there fuckha
Auto response from Schaffner32 [11:28 PM]: "...some argue that
marriage is for procreation, but if so, a fertility test as well as a
blood test would be required. "
Yanks42423 [11:38 PM]: gotta ask you something when you get up
or get back or wherever the fuck ya are
Yanks42423 [11:39 PM]: good bye porter
Schaffner32 [1:39 AM]: yes?
Auto response from Yanks42423 [1:39 AM]: As Ahnold would say
"I'll be bach"
Yanks42423 [1:40 AM]: were you the one that busted the suite?
Schaffner32 [1:40 AM]: nope
Schaffner32 [1:40 AM]: how'd you hear
Schaffner32 [1:40 AM]: it was Trevor
Yanks42423 [1:40 AM]: my roommate was in there
Yanks42423 [1:40 AM]: WHAT?
Schaffner32 [1:40 AM]: Trevor said I should before so that's why I
suspect it was him
Schaffner32 [1:40 AM]: I don't think it's right to "rat" people out
Yanks42423 [1:41 AM]: exactly
Schaffner32 [1:41 AM]: they all probably assume it was me though
cuz I always them to turn their loud obnoxious bass down
Yanks42423 [1:41 AM]: i wasnt here my roommate told me
Schaffner32 [1:42 AM]: why would Trevor do it though when he's
been in there on similar occasions
Schaffner32 [1:42 AM]: what'd he say "Tim ratted us out"?
Yanks42423 [1:42 AM]: no, but he said that you complained
Yanks42423 [1:42 AM]: he didnt accuse you
Yanks42423 [1:44 AM]: its funny you mentioned that trevor was
acting weird earlier
Schaffner32 [1:44 AM]: is he maybe... dead?
Schaffner32 [1:45 AM]: sometimes bodies still flinch after they
90
have died
Yanks42423 [1:46 AM]: i dont know but he has something against
diego and adam, because they said he cheated in the basketball pool
Schaffner32 [1:46 AM]: childish childish... did he win that thing?
how much did he get?
Yanks42423 [1:49 AM]: thats the thing he got disqualified so tyler
and i split the money because we tied for second
Yanks42423 [1:49 AM]: and he claimed he didnt cheat
Yanks42423 [1:50 AM]: but adam diego didnt believe him and now
there is thing between them so their is motive for this action
Schaffner32 [1:51 AM]: he'll probably deny it and say it was me...
he probably would've rather me do it so he wouldn't get the wrap but
then when I said no he must've
Schaffner32 [1:57 AM]: why are you dead?
Yanks42423 [1:59 AM]: because you are a fucking sewer dwelling
piece of shit scumbag motha-fuckha
Schaffner32 [1:59 AM]: like yo mamma
Schaffner32 [2:00 AM]: ooh snap!
Yanks42423 [2:00 AM]: crackle and pop
Schaffner32 [2:01 AM]: mmhhHHHHHMMmmmm
Ya n k s 4 2 4 2 3
[2:04
AM]:
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhuh
Schaffner32 [2:05 AM]: so what's your favorite cat?
Yanks42423 [2:06 AM]: i hate cats
Yanks42423 [2:06 AM]: im an africanized bee person myself they
make the best pets
Yanks42423 [2:06 AM]: for sure
Schaffner32 [2:07 AM]: so everything from Africa is bad you say?
Yanks42423 [2:08 AM]: i didnt say that i said africanized bees
make the best pets wat are you talking about you fucking cunt
Schaffner32 [2:08 AM]: you're an awful sexist villain from Detroit
Yanks42423 [2:11 AM]: yes of course
Schaffner32 [2:12 AM]: don't state the obvious so often, it makes
you appear brudish!
Schaffner32 [2:14 AM]: and also dull or creatious!
91
shaggy1231232001: ok
shaggy1231232001: i was not making fun of your name
Tim: ready? the full name is dahki-pipu lafti lafti genitalianiss
shaggy1231232001: ok
shaggy1231232001: cool
Tim: most ppl just call me pipu genitalia though
Tim: can you imagine elementary school where I got called pipi and
pupu? you try living with it... what were my parents thinking...
shaggy1231232001: are you serious
Tim: there you go again! I'm crying now! I'm just crying
ahhhhh!!!!!!!!
Tim: I hear the voices all over again...
shaggy1231232001: sorry
Tim: mocking children..
shaggy1231232001: i am not trying to make fun of you
shaggy1231232001: really
Tim: peepee! poopoo!
shaggy1231232001: i just think it is an unusual name is all
Tim: I'm just going to eat myself! Ahh! There I go! there goes a
chunk of flesh! look what you've made me do!!!!!
Tim: well, it's not unusual!
shaggy1231232001:
Tim: don't worry... I have a flesh-eating problem; it's not usually
with me, though; it's usually with people I start getting close to. and
then it happens... it's a reported condition so I have an excuse
shaggy1231232001: ok now you are just acting weird
Tim: weird??? are you making fun of me again!!!
shaggy1231232001: sleep deprievity creeping in
Tim: hehehe
Tim: actually... my name is Tim
shaggy1231232001: that is what i thought
shaggy1231232001: nice story though
Tim: I know; thank you
shaggy1231232001: hehe
*
93
thescottydoo: hey
timdb85: hey what's up?
thescottydoo: nothing much, yourself?
timdb85: I'm eating a penguin, you?
timdb85: :-)
thescottydoo: the poor penguin!
timdb85: and he was cute too :-(
*
timdb85: do you have any grandchildren?
LaVieBoheme1221: personally... no
timdb85: hehe
timdb85: you could have a one-year-old grand child by now
timdb85: when you were twelve... and then when your daughter
was 9
timdb85: it's very possible
LaVieBoheme1221: true
LaVieBoheme1221: but... not really
LaVieBoheme1221: you have any grand kids?
timdb85: of course, I have seven!
timdb85: no.
timdb85: would like one, though.
*
mirililly [3:58 PM]: hey timmy!
Schaffner32 [3:59 PM]: helloooooooo! How is Charlie in the
bathed morning sun?
mirililly [3:59 PM]: simply marvelous! and thyself?
Schaffner32 [4:00 PM]: Only what is not of thine elinguished
masterpiece.
Schaffner32 [4:00 PM]: How is band if you art thou in?
mirililly [4:01 PM]: oh i am
mirililly [4:01 PM]: its still great :)
mirililly [4:01 PM]: hows college treating you?
mirililly [4:01 PM]: i havent seen you in ages! i miss you
Schaffner32 [4:03 PM]: I'm not real, don't worry. College is angry
with me, but it gave me good ratings, yet it's too strict a bit with
94
Diana: hmmm
Schaffner32: pretending I'm drumming bongos which are really the
computer table now...
Diana: haha
Schaffner32: you should be too
Diana: i wish a dining hall or something was open
Diana: it stinks when you want to eat and you can't
Schaffner32: where have you eaten? just eating walls/carpeting,
etc.?
Diana: yeah
Diana: the usual
Diana: sometimes i eat chapstick
Schaffner32: you're such an animal.
Schaffner32: do you really?
Diana: yeah
Schaffner32: no you don't
Diana: and notebooks
Schaffner32: nutuh giiahrl
Diana: how should i respond to that
Schaffner32: I said nut-uh "girl" with a ghetto accent
Diana: what does "nut-uh" mean
Schaffner32: say it out loud and you'll know
Schaffner32: don't pronounce the t very much
Schaffner32: it's more nuh(t)-uh.
Diana: oh
Diana: maybe i'll try it
Schaffner32: I'm going to have to log off and then on again.
Diana: ok
Schaffner32: all betta
Diana: good i'm glad
Diana: r u in your room now
Schaffner32: no... I had to refresh aol here to see pics someone sent
me in an email
Schaffner32: it was yo mamma
Diana: i don't have a mom
97
killing spree
Mel [8:48 PM]: hehe
Mel [8:48 PM]: indeed
Schaffner32 [8:53 PM]: but you have plans any at all?
Mel [8:54 PM]: to screw your mom
Mel [8:54 PM]: thats all
Schaffner32 [8:54 PM]: none besides, like any events you wanted
to go to?
Mel [8:54 PM]: hmmm
Mel [8:54 PM]: i dont know
Mel [8:54 PM]: ill check
Mel [8:55 PM]: there are some comedians coming soon
Schaffner32 [8:55 PM]: hmmie
Schaffner32 [8:56 PM]: it's not like we have to have anything
structured to do
Schaffner32 [8:56 PM]: how is your school year different this than
last?
Mel [8:56 PM]: we can always go places and do things like mug
small children....
Mel [8:56 PM]: my classes are so much better
Mel [8:57 PM]: its insane how much better they are
Schaffner32 [8:57 PM]: better in what way
Mel [8:57 PM]: now that im actually in illustration
Schaffner32 [8:57 PM]: oh cool
Schaffner32 [8:58 PM]: what kind of illustration is your favorite?
Schaffner32 [8:58 PM]: I have no idea what I mean by that
question but imagine you could answer it.
Mel [8:58 PM]: oh i like drawing-some people paint-i like
charicatures and want to draw political cartoons
Mel [8:59 PM]: that would rock my world
Schaffner32 [8:59 PM]: ooh; do you draw Bush at all? (I don't
mean vagina)
Mel [9:00 PM]: hahaha
Mel [9:00 PM]: AHAHA
Mel [9:00 PM]: um
104
Barbara: hi
Barbara: what does that mean
timdb85: horry nalinacklance
timdb85: mormormor
timdb85: call me you?
Barbara: I'm gonna go to bed soon
Barbara: me call you tomorrow maybe?
timdb85: kkk
Barbara: ok
timdb85: bibi
*
Barbara: tom!
timdb85: aweofiawhf
Barbara: hows banana republic?
timdb85: good
timdb85: of course
timdb85: are you dead?
Barbara: almost
Barbara: it was a rough day
Barbara: with very little sleep
Barbara: just took a test
Barbara: but now I'm done nad happy
Barbara: and my fellow mysticism student, her name is Enali
Barbara: Enaili
Barbara: she is a PhD student actually
Barbara: anyway she owns a chocolate shop
Barbara: and she gave me a choc eg
timdb85: so it's worth it to stay up :-)
Barbara: filled iwth chocolates
Barbara: like, truffles ands tuff
Barbara: lol
timdb85: hehe
timdb85: I love truffles sort of :-)
Barbara: I Know
Barbara: I LLOLLLLOVE them
106
timdb85: I try
Matt: like a sexy little orphan
timdb85: ooh
timdb85: love orphans
M a t t r e c e i v e d C : \ D o c u m e n t s a n d S e t t i n g s \ Ti m o t h y
Ballan.TIMOTHY-0DUXTZC\My Documents\Pictures and Videos
\Sexuality-Related\Pictures of Me\2005_02_20 (About
160)\DSC00479.JPG.
timdb85: it turns me on that someone has experienced loss
timdb85 wants to send file C:\Documents and Settings\Timothy
Ballan.TIMOTHY-0DUXTZC\My Documents\Pictures and Videos
\Sexuality-Related\Pictures of Me\2005_02_20 (About
160)\DSC00470.JPG.
M a t t r e c e i v e d C : \ D o c u m e n t s a n d S e t t i n g s \ Ti m o t h y
Ballan.TIMOTHY-0DUXTZC\My Documents\Pictures and Videos
\Sexuality-Related\Pictures of Me\2005_02_20 (About
160)\DSC00470.JPG.
Matt: thats kinda weird in a sexy way
Matt: LOL
Matt: or not that sexy
Matt: but weird
timdb85: yes
timdb85: and it also untrue
timdb85: but I like to pretend it is so I can be special
*
timdb85: my grandmother made a funny noise just now... it was
either her stomach or a big and weird fart
Matt: hahahahah ew
Matt: r u in bed with her?
timdb85: a little bit
Matt: sweet
timdb85: I wish you would kill me when I turned 60
Matt: hmmm not 60- like 70
timdb85: ok
timdb85: I might not remember and be scared when you try to kill
108
me, though
Matt: ok
Matt: ill just suprise you
Matt: like from behind
timdb85: ok, it's a plan
Matt: Ok
Matt: well Im off to make some tea and slowly die
Matt: night
timdb85: haha
timdb85: sounds wonderful :-)
Matt: I know
*
6:52 PM
Matt: do it
to me
now
Tim: mama
scared ta
check email in a min
Matt: ok
6:55 PM
Matt: I'm losing my mind
7:00 PM
Tim: porquois?
pourquois?
Matt: not actually
Tim: I don't know French but I had a dream I did
what not?
Matt: thought for a econd I was
Tim: an econd
like a second only longer
Matt: like 2 seconds?
or inbet 1 and 2?
Tim: 7 and 43
inbet I guess is a word--I'm also dead inside
109
Matt: oh no
Tim: all the way dead
why you think you lost mind for about 23 seconds?
Matt: si
*
timdb85: how's (the) movie?
Matt: hot
Matt: hot guy is in it
timdb85: hoo?
Matt: jerking off
Matt: no idea his name
Matt: eddie
timdb85: you make me want to drown in your cum in the largest vat
impossible to swim out of where even if I'm dropped off at the
bottom and have hours of oxygen in a tank it would still run out as I
try to rise out of it and however much I hate it I'll love the idea as I
die slowly
Matt: hahahaahahahahaha
timdb85: it's all true
Matt: im sick to my damn tummmmmmmy
timdb85: really?
Matt: little
timdb85: I want your tummy in a muffin
timdb85: real bad
Matt: I want to runaway real bad
Matt: im bored with my life
timdb85: where would you run to?
Matt: Texas
Matt: for the love of a cock tease
timdb85: awww
Matt: lol
timdb85: (I quote lyrics of a song)
Matt: ur a good singer
timdb85: oh thanks
timdb85: I'm listening to it
110
Mel: hahahaha
timdb85: I just made that up
timdb85: what are you doing tonight? Have you seen Garden State?
you should
timdb85: go see it tonight
Mel: i saw it
Mel: i love it
timdb85: good
Mel: i also love wicker park
timdb85: hmm... should I see it?
Mel: you should maybe see it
timdb85: I guess.
Mel: do you think whats his ass is cute
Mel: hes in it
timdb85: I know his ass... I don't particularly like him
Mel: josh hartnet
timdb85: yes
Mel: i dont normally like him
Mel: but his character is so cute
timdb85: awww; I love seeing cute things bleed
Mel: HAHAHA
timdb85: it's something Kaira would think I think
timdb85: she loves when people bleed
Mel: i love that girl and i dont even know her
Mel: if someone needed killing
Mel: id get her
timdb85: me too
timdb85: I let a creep take naked pictures of me
timdb85: don't know why
timdb85: was being "too nice"
Mel: uhoh
timdb85: he said they'll be in a photo show and will be black and
white but he'll probably masturbate to them
timdb85: I wasn't thinking
Mel: uhoh
114
Diana
if as someone's Facebook status update, s/he put something like "I
masturbated today"
Diana
hahahah
i wonder what types of reactions that would get
Diana
all her friends would defriend her and she'd be assassinated!
like it's def not pc for Facebook
Diana
but really masturbating is not something that should be kept a secret
Diana
I want to go to VT for the night
I slept all day--it's not as usual recently for me to that, but I did. I
felt depressed so I didn't want to get up
I know--we're a strangely puritan country sometimes
are you still depressed?
Diana
what
Diana
whats wrong?
Diana
I don't know if I am really
but if I am it's just chemicals, but also it might be influenced from
joblessness, lovelessness, and nearby-friend-lessnesss
waaaaaaaaah
aww im your friend... im not exactly nearby, but you can pretend i
116
am
Diana
yeye
*hehe
yes, I know; that's why I said "nearby"
actually dave will be moving back to mass soon
Diana
but relatively speaking in terms of the galaxy you are nearby
I hate Dave
jk
[...]
ive been talking to him more lately, he sounds really good
Diana
i like your skin, and your clever look.
i mean he just sounds diffeerent than he used to
Diana
that's what someone just emailed me
different?
like asian now?
[...]
hi
you can call me jj
you always say hi when you're nervous
Diana
117
its okay
Diana
i just wanted to make sure that's the email address you use
Diana
look at it when you have time
Diana
who u talkin to on the fone????
Diana
barbbbbbara
oh
Diana
tell her i say hi
Diana
Diana hi
barbara say hi back
is this an experiment?
Diana
is her voice going to come from out of nowhere?
Diana
nono
how are you feeling?
Diana
are you feeling better than when i talked to you the last time?
Diana
10:25 PM
yes
sorry I'm done w phone now
119
the beginning
oh what prescription did they give you?
Diana
I just wanted to start the paper off in a just-so way
I don't remember
some syrup
lactolose?
sonja?
im here
Diana
sorry
Diana
that's the name of it?
Diana
Lactolose?
Diana
I shouldn't talk since I twas on the phone being ignoring-ish
yes something like that
you must have been having pretty bad constipation
Diana
i feel like doctors are reluctant to give out medicine for bowl
functions
Diana
I've had it since I visited you in NYC coincidentally
oh noOoooo!
Diana
that's really sad
Diana
121
im nervous
Diana
thank you for sending the pdf by the way
I'm keeping it for ever in a folder with my article
suck him off
hahaha
Diana
that would be inappropriate
Diana
spose so
im going alone
Diana
that's what I do whenever I get nervous though
i guess thats why im so nervious
Diana
I suck someone off to try to impress them
then I ususally get arrested
I'd go with you if I lived next door to you
how was boston, btw?
okay
Diana
i wasnt there for very long
Diana
i ended up leaving at 2, which worked out because i could do
laundry and stuff when i got back to NY
Diana
123
nice
neeeayyss!
was the laundry bloody?
with goat's blood
nope
Diana
but it smelled
Diana
awesome
you should sell it on ebay labeled "unwashed and disgusting"
you'll get loads of creepers begging to give you all their money
then shoot them
oh wow... did you hear about the BU medical student?
Diana
Craig's List killer?
Diana
yeah, he's my friend
he's not a killer
he's a good christian woman and he likes apricots in his macaroni
but he ate my mind
and my tortillini
ooooo
Diana
i can tell you're still not over that
Diana
11:01 PM
omg
Diana
124
125
Foreign Images
In a lowly-lit room with large square black and white porcelain tiles,
a man is playing a piano of the same carving and wood as the
elaborately etched dark wood ceiling and walls. We see this from
different angles that only take from one to another after periods of at
least ten seconds. Coming to a close focus on the pianist's eyes,
though, we see them slowly turn red and, once completely red,
slowly melt. He doesn't seem to care, though.
Our perspective now zooms into his completely dark eye sockets,
and until there is no light seen, and while the sound of his playing is
fading. As the music fades out over about ten seconds, though,
another type of music gradually appears: the introduction to a song
that grows in volume as the characters who will apparently sing it
slowly materialize from the darkness behind them. They are
rumpled blob-shaped fluorescently animated characters who look
very serious, neither their mannerisms nor mouths aligning with the
attitude or rhythm and words of the music:
"We are the dancing fruities,
We are the dancing fruities,
We are the dancing fruities and we love to say your name.
The dancing fruities,
We are the dancing fruities,
The dancing fruities and we love to say your name."
They come to closely face us one at a time and loudly scream,
"What's your name?! What's your name?! Is it Bob Joe Lotz
Croatia Tellekeneketiny?! Telleslementerarinifee? Bob? Mary!
LOVE!!!! ...Love!!! ...love!! ...love! ...love..."
They slowly re-fade into soundlessness and darkness while
transforming into falling droplets of water. But, still reflecting a
126
tiny amount of light, we can just barely see that they meet and
combine to form a very large translucent black slug that soon lands
on the top of a closed baby grand piano, sliding onto then off the
keys, then falling again for about ten seconds. The slug ultimately
reaches some surface that is as shining, translucent, and black as
itself, but the slug is soon absorbed into the substance, as the area
around is darkened as if by a thick ink, this ink spreading out to
become a large ocean.
We are slowly submerged beneath this ocean, but only a few feet
beneath the crests of leisurely turning low waves. Our perspective
stays fixed at this level and on the water around us until, after about
a minute, a dull orange and yellow fish coated with spiraling wiry
tentacles approaches and swallows us. We feel and hear it jump out
of the water but, even after several seconds, remain in the air,
apparently flying. Little by little, we can see through its body until
it disappears. We see the night sky around us, clouds, stars, and also
a naked fat and rumply elderly woman somewhat reminiscent of a
Shar Pei dog, sitting uncomfortably on a cloud, smiling shyly.
We come over and sit next to her, but she looks bashful and only
offers us infrequent sideways glances without moving her head.
Even as burning meteorites start falling all around, she looks neither
scared nor concerned, even when a small one hits her, creating a
large gash along the top of her head. The gash only grows, though,
as a flame ignites out of it, beginning to consume the woman who
continues to smile but shyly. The cloud supporting her and us
begins moving as if a vehicle and, after it descends for nearly half a
minute, it leads us into a cave within the rocky ledge of a hill.
After the cloud and continuously burning woman leave us, there is
nothing to light this dank cave but the open sky around several
corners. We only hear and faintly see drips and splashes for minutes
until the blackness lightens to morph between blueish-seafoam
green and other colors that sparkle iridescently with pinks, dark
127
sudden cliff that drops off into extensive rocky terrain. We begin to
descend, however, upon spotting a rockless field in the distance,
where we land, at the nearby edge of a murky bog.
Next to a large pile of various mostly notably curly twigs, a softly
smiling shriveled and small elderly womandressed in witch-like
black with strikingly black but warm eyesis instructing two burly
developmentally-disabled men in building her a house of these curly
twigs. After only several seconds, time somehow lapses so that we
see the men finish building the house and then leave. We now
follow the witch-like old woman as she enters her new hut to sit on
a stool made of twigs and slowly but deliberately eat her hands. She
bleeds little, though, and smiles all the while. Once the woman
finishes eating her hands, she begins to hum peacefully and, using
her now-stump arms, open one of her new cabinets. She removes a
pumpkin from this cabinet, carries it through her still-open front
door, and sets it in her new mailbox. Once the woman returns inside
and closes her brittle door, though, the pumpkin falls out of the back
of the mailbox.
We focus on this pumpkin as time fast-forwards until it rots away.
We are then forced through the dirt beneath it for several seconds
until we come to the opening of an underground cavern as extensive
and spacious as several linked enormous warehouses. We are
directed through the cavern, through a city sewer, up onto a
telephone wire above in the remnants of this long-abandoned city,
and into an apartment window of a pumpkin-shaped man facing us
but with a torso and legs that are backwards from his head and arms.
Wielding a newly minted machete, he excitedly yodels and skips,
running down the decrepit cement steps of his building out into the
ruins of the city itself, knocking heads off of only townsfolk who
look condescendingly toward him. When done, we watch him catch
his breath, calm down, and then look very sad, looking downward,
seeming to fall limp.
129
We begin to fall and fall and fall until we break through and become
trapped in the skin of a large timpani in some completely darkened
dusty school closet. We hear oddly deranged brooding string music
all around but can see nothing, until we notice that all the
instruments in this vast closet are being hurled into each other and
all around us. Soon we appear to be crushed to the point of death.
131
Unlikely Encounters
Early Morning
An innocent-looking deer approaches a gate where a cutely
quivering squirrel is sitting. As the deer inches closer and closer,
the squirrel quivers with increasing intensity, appearing frozen with
shock. It soon becomes more and more apparent that the deer
intends to eat the squirrel.
*
Waking up to their loud beeping alarm, one says, "It sounds just like
a harpand beautiful endless fields of daisies stretching across all I
know or could ever hope to know..."
*
Just warming up their morning shower as their mother breaks in
through door with an axe:
"What are you doing!?"
"I thought you were dead! You've been in there for hours, I couldn't
find the key to the door, and I didn't want to waste time waiting for a
locksmith."
"Umm... I've been in here for maybe two min"
"Ohh... Sorry."
The mother leaves leisurely as the son stares in shock.
*
To her father: "I want a baby named SueI don't care if it's a boy
and I'll just keep it here in my apartmentit can sleep on the
couch."
Her father replies with a delay: "Oh dear. I think I've forgotten
132
something..."
"Dad, you have Alzheimer's! How cliche is that?!"
*
You call up a friend who, when they say "hello", you respond to
sternly, as if irritated, with a forceful and seething "What?!".
At the end of the ensuing actually normal conversation, the friend
laughs while sweetly commenting, "I would never kill you". You
both laugh warmly as if she said, "I'm glad we're friends".
*
To: continuingeducation@wls.edu
Subject: Withdrawal
Hi. I e-mailed the following to the wrong address a couple days
ago:
I would like to be withdrawn from PH 100 EL. My name is
Timothy BallanI do not have a student ID because I am not a
matriculatd student yet.
Thank you,
Timothy Ballan
PSI know I don't know you, but did you happen to see the movie
"Lady in the Water" yet?
Breakfast
White mother to white son:
muffin?"
short time but without looking at one another or making any sound,
one turns to the other and coldly states, "I wish you were dead."
En Route to School
One watches as a fat lady runs down the middle of a road rubbing
honey all over her bodyunder her clothes and on her exposed
skin, screaming "I'm a bee! I'm a bee!"
Elsewhere, someone notices a woman with her baby on the street
and asks, "Can I please have your baby?"
After a pause and with a disgusted and quizzical expression, "No!"
"Fine."
Another person, to a random little girl waiting for the bus: "There
are things worse than death, you know..."
*
In clearly early fall, as I am driving through narrow winding forest
roads, I see a duck fly down into a pond to my left.
"A duck? What the hell? I fucking hate ducks!", as I step on the gas
to shoot my car into the pond. As the car is sinking, I step up on the
roof, angrily flailing my arms to try to catch the duck as it flies
away before I fall off into the water. As I'm reaching the shore, I
say "I FUCKING HATE DUCKS!"
*
While driving on a busy street, a warm-looking, smiling female
driver graciously and very unexpectedly lets me go in front of her. I
drive very slowly and deliberately in front of her while I roll down
my window and give her the middle finger.
*
A woman who doesn't look particularly friendly boards a bus to sit
across from me. I say semi-enthusiastically, "Hi Sam!" as she
134
manner referring to aspects of her attire besides her anklet, all while
remaining in a seemingly dazed state.
*
"How should I treat this girl who's been so mean to me?"
"Kiss her on her head and pet her side and act as if she is a goddess
of comfort to whom you are returning comfort slowly and
lovinglyangelically as if to a baby deer sent from heaven."
*
In response to a blind teacher approaching the front of his
classroom, one says, "I'm sick of this blind guy; the joke was old the
second dayhe can't see, we get it..."
*
"Does anyone have any questions before I hand out the test?"
"Yes", quietly but definitely.
"Okaygreat! Here's your test."
Class
A professor brags, "Millions of fractions of people have already
bought my book!"
"How many people is that?"
"...One."
*
An older together- and respectable-looking male teacher in "proper"
posture and uniform stands silently writing at the blackboard of a
small nineteenth-century-styled classroom with a high ceiling and
intricate ornamental carving throughout. All the students look quiet
and sleepy. Through a tall old-fashioned window next to the board,
we see an overcast morning sky with traveling mist near the ground.
The teacher abruptly stops writing though continuing to face the
136
Another person adds, "I wish she did. I wish she would."
*
An old man sitting at a Thanksgiving dinner with many of his
relatives picks his butt relatively inconspicuously, but his wife
points toward him furiously and screams, "CRAP!"
Soon after, a young child burps violently and long enough to splatter
blood all over his surrounding family.
*
In a nasally Long-Island-ish accent, a woman comments to another,
"Oh Delila! You must have been putting that new gel in your hair!
You're beak is coming in quite well...", sing-songy toward the end.
The speaker is a hideously bulbous older woman nearly covered in
course hairs stemming out of moles and multiple moderate to large
apparent tumors all over her body. She has cracked and broken
skin, varicose veins, and greasy white-grey hair that is balding in the
middle. As she speaks, Delilaa lady dressed up in a bird suit,
apparently a white mallard duck but with a wide cartoon-like
beaklooks flattered to the point of speechlessness, only cheekily
turning her head downward while looking sideways and batting her
long eyelash extensions.
*
A middle-aged somewhat hefty man is sitting backwards on a toilet
that is positioned almost parallel with the bathroom door. Someone
opens the unlocked door as the man nearly screams, "I'm on the
toilet" very pointedly and moderately angrily. The other quietly
apologizes while gently closing the door.
The Sickly's Mid-day
Nurses come to move an immobile thousand-plus-pound woman
from her bed onto a kind of wheeled platform through a doorway
recently widened by several feet.
138
Then, whenever the other tries to repeat herself, the first woman
interrupts her by saying "What?" and continues this as the other
patiently restarts over and over.
Nearby, a thin, wide-eyed, skittish-looking man in his thirties
beseeches a young child alone on another bench, "Child, what day is
it? Is it Friday?"
Innocently, "I think so."
"Actually I think it's SaturdayI think that's today... Child! Do
you know if Dolores is yet living in her temple cast of iron
trudglings?!"
"I think so."
*
An older lady attending to her garden on a leafy and flowery
winding suburban route is disturbed by the sound and slight breeze
of a six-year-old girl slowly passing by on a small training-wheeled
bike, a pink helmet on her head and pink pompoms hanging from
the white bike's handlebars. As the girl passes, the older lady
notices a rotting dove at the edge of the woods across the road. A
slight sadness at this quickly becomes intense rage, as the lady
throws her shovel and gloves down into the mulch beneath her,
stomps away from her weed-ridden and overgrown yard filled with
trash and refuse, and begins running after the girl who, by now, is
well beyond hearing range of the lady. The lady starts screaming
and waving maniacally, "You killed my bird! You killed my bird!"
until she happens to trip over a seemingly unused spray paint can in
the gutter of the street, next to a sewer opening. Struck with a
thought, though still in her slippers and night gown, the lady decides
to immediately trek with this spray paint can two miles in a
direction perpendicular to the girl's path; she crosses several bridges
over nearby highways and highway ramps but only decides to spray
paint on the edge of the fourth bridge she comes to. In scratchy,
142
Behind a hotel, at a point where a muddy swamp meets a wellmanicured lawn, a family finds this place fit to lay down beach
towels, build muddy sand castles, and play in the water, even while
it is starting to thunder and rain.
*
At an intersection of trails in the woods, just off one of the trails, a
huge manatee-ish grey bunny, furless, wrinkly, slimy-ish, and
clammy-looking, tall as the trees and very wide, bends but doesn't
break trees as it moves like a slug through them. A little girl says ,
"Look Mommya doggy!" Ignoring her daughter, preoccupied
with packing up lunch materials from the picnic they just had,
bending over and with her back toward the bunny, she neither
notices it nor its quiet, wind-like sounds of movement, even though
it is very near her. She is soon slid over, crushed by the bunny that
is blinded by wrinkles over its eyes. She screams and flails, but it is
too late.
*
A schizophrenic pre-pubescent boy dials a car dealership, though he
is self-conscious about his high voice enough to apparently
generally fear phone calls. With a heavily frightened but also
pitifully sad sound in his voice, he starts, "There's a goat here and
she keeps unplugging the charger to my cell phone."
Taken aback but carefully and hesitantly, the car salesman on the
other end responds, "Sorry ma'am, we can't help you with that...".
Sounding incredibly, achingly depressed, the voice shakingly
responds, "...Okay", and then hangs up. Without seeing the caller,
you'd assume the voice belonged to a feeble old woman.
*
Responding to an e-mail filled with small-talk from my assigned
"peer advisor" at college:
"I'm Tim, your peer advisee. Do you only get one? If so, it might
upset you to know that I'm a bird. I hope you don't mind.
144
Love,
Thomas"
*
As I meet people on my dorm floor, I start a conversation with one
by exclaiming in a very serious tone, "Wow... Isn't it amazing that
every single one of our lives has now intersected?!"
*
Someone directs me to "Smell this lotion", so I put some on my
hand and smell it. Looking enamored with it, then energized to
receive more of a high from it, I grab the bottle and vigorously
pump much more on my hands and stuff as much as I can up my
nostrils.
*
"You're such a cutie-pie!"
"I'm not a pieI'm a human being!"
En Route to the Mall
One calls 411 and asks, "What year is it?"
*
"I'm going to the store now."
"So am I."
"You are?"
"Oh, waitno; I thought I was you for a second."
*
As you pass through a fast food drive-through, you and your friend
notice a young female worker go into a storage shed belonging to
the restaurant. "Open the door; let's lock her in there, okay? Come
on, let's go."
*
145
woman is blocking sight of the other cashier and their register as the
woman bends down to inspect candy on a low shelf.
Another nearby says, "I wish I were really fat."
Their friend responds, "You're joking, right?"
"No... I just think it would be nice..."
*
One goes around to random people at a mall food court and
sincerely and calmly but intensely frustratedly explains how "I need
to finish a project for my doctor". The person measures people's
heads, body parts, and belongings from random points, including
from mid-air, while insisting that people "please hold still to
cooperate".
In the corner of another mall food court, one is seen pulling out her
hair and eating it, pleasedly, but then throwing up afterward.
Dinner
"Get up Tim! It's time for dinner."
From his bed, "I'm pooOOooping!!"
*
With seriousness, someone pours soda all over a table as if a glass
were there.
*
At his college's cafeteria, a young man throws his food and dishes
across the wide and high-ceilinged room. He proceeds to do this
with the food and dishes of those near him as well. He bangs
together their trays and dances around the room, hitting people with
the trays and taking their chairs to throw. When the first person
decides to comment, saying, "Ow..." as they are hit with a chair, the
man realizes what he's done and says, "I'm sorry ...I'm sick."
147
*
With insistent concern, you comment to your waitress: "Miss... I
believe there's a hippo in my salad."
*
An older lady appears appropriately dressed and poised for her place
in a small low-lit four-star restaurant as she sits alone sipping soup
at a small table and on a small chair that her immensely plump
seated rear only partially touches. She begins to continuously
loudly flatulate, and to a degree where the fat on her bottom can be
seen to slightly ripple. Although her face becomes increasingly red,
she only continues to sip her soup while seemingly greatly trying to
both appear oblivious to and innocent of the noise and now putrid
smell she is producing. Others retain their dignified composure but
leave one by one until she is alone.
*
A man blows bubbles of gum during a restaurant dinner with his
friends and continues to even after one of them gets a call that the
rest of their family was murdered.
*
While serious and calm in the midst of a formal banquet, I turn to
the table nearest me, asking, "Has anyone seen my baton?"
"No, we haven't. Sorry."
"Oh! There! I think I see it!"
"Where? What?"
I slowly kneel down to a canister of ice on a banquet table near me
to sensually but modestly lick it. I beseech those around me,
"Please. Join me." I touch and look at them in eerie ways as I
similarly smile on and off and in the basic direction of people's faces
or in no specific direction. Sincerely pleadingly, I grab people by
their hands, arms, or ears and force them to follow me onto banquet
tables. I tip over tables, spread food all over the room, and smear
148
food over the faces and clothes of those who have remained seated.
No one reacts violently, only surprisedly.
Post-Dinner
Monica's roommate, Darla, has a disability where she does whatever
she notices someone else doing, even if it forces them to stop. She
usually doesn't realize that she's doing something odd and usually
feels that the other person is doing something wrong. But, she
means no harm and can't help it
Their first night at school, getting into the shower after a few
minutes of preparing, Monica asks, "Darla? Do you need the
bathroom?"
"Nope."
"You sure?"
"Yep. I'm readingyou made me want to look at your book when
you picked it up before."
"Okay... I should be out in 20 minutes."
...
"Get out of the shower!"
"But, I'm... All right."
Frustratedly but with a tinge of vindication, Darla responds, "Thank
you!"
*
In the study area of a library, students are sitting at a table reading
and writing, one girl reading while eating a peach. The boy across
149
from the girl stares glaringly once he notices that she is eating.
Detecting his stare right away, the girl lets out a small gasp. With
stern disapproval and contempt, he says, "There's no smoking in the
library", continuing to stare until the girl responds innocently and
respectfully. She says, "Oh", while slowly placing the peach to her
side on the table. Once he seems confident that he's done his job,
the boy turns back to his work. The girl returns to her studying
without touching the peach but soon leaves to study on a snowcovered bench outside.
*
A group of friends is watching the news. As it mentions in passing
the acronym "FBI", one of the friends responds wryly with "FBI my
ass!" A long confused silence ensues.
Elsewhere, a very melodramatic, strange television program ends
with a supposedly frightening, startling revelation from a vampire:
"You didn't suspect that I might be a visitor from another time, did
you?" The audience retains blank expressions.
Somewhere else, a man watches another day of a cable channel
dedicated supremely to comedy, but offers not one smile nor hint of
interest in the programming.
*
After dialing a friend, you repeat, "Please don't pick up, please don't
pick up, please don't pick up", and this chant spills over into the first
few seconds after the friend picks up.
"What? Did you just say, 'Please don't pick up'?"
"No, no, no... I was just talking to my cat."
"...You don't have a cat."
"I was talking to my neighbor's cat."
*
150
"Mm-hmm."
A nearby old lady sitting by herself keeps saying, "Why do the
ducks keep flying in my head? Please, someone tell meanyone!
Please? Doesn't anyone know?"
A nearby bulky, short-legged man comes to a table where the older
Indian couple who own the restaurant is seated, scooping ice cream
into several dishes from two relatively small containers.
"Heycan we get some of that?!"
"...We're saving it for a birthday party in a few min"
"Oh, that's okay! C'mon!", as he takes the ice cream and invites his
family to take some.
A nearby table of kids first throws food and bread at some old ladies
before chasing them out of the restaurant as if they were birds.
Everyone in the restaurant laughs.
A nearby group of young adult men laughingly ask the waitress to
come right away as one of them prepares to vomit, doing so on a
plate in front of the shocked waitress. They all smear it on her as
she laughs nervously but soon starts to cry. After she leaves, one of
them whispers to the others, "Let's crawl under the table of those
girls over there and kill them, and then kill the waitress on our way
out!" The others respond with, "Yeah!", "Yeah!", and "Awesome!"
A heater precariously hanging above a table falls and burns a man
alive. Their young waitress comes over and is very apologetic to
the family. She tries to put out the fire but is afraid. No one,
including the family, seems to care.
153
154
Positive Images
155
of the undulating tubes in the sky. She watched with tears clouding
the violet rosed fiery blues as swelled the music of planets and
pines, whistling grass, violins and deep stringed instruments from
the heavens and grounds, as the purpled mouths up above ended
their motion with grace. And she closed her eyes and smiled.
*
In her death, the tubes of the sky broke into the world she had seen
but not understood in her daytime meanderings through the village's
shallow lake. Against the clashing howls of rushing city traffic on a
wet and snowy morning, a robust but reviled male child was born to
a poor woman who lived in fields by day and empty buildings by
night, unexpecting what she soon would leave to the city infant safe
haven.
159
that he was emotionally upset after seeing the girl, and this remained
a mystery until later events would explain his apparent internal strife
over this. His tribe knew something was odd, but these are creatures
faithful to their own, loving, forgiving, and unassuming.
So, he returned to the spot where he saw the little brunette girl
playing with rocks on a dusty trail, returning day after day until he
finally found her again. He did not appear to her immediately, but
allowed a sparkling pink dust to surround her and warm her skin.
He spoke into her mind, saying, "Don't be afraid, little one. I am
good." The girl was not afraid and maybe wouldn't have even been
if she spotted him without this introduction.
I can't say what occurred that day, but I know the girl did not return
to her home that night, which is how her father knew something was
going wrong. But this girl was not hurt and she was not unwilling
to stay the night with the sasquatch; the rest of this tribe was
hesitant to accept her, but they accepted whatever this male
sasquatchwho was the head of this tribefelt. These creatures
did find something special in this little girl, however. And, they
soon became enamored with her enough to allow her to sleep with
them in their expansive nest undergroundsomething I've never
heard happen between sasquatch and human.
Anyway, the little girl finally returned to her father's early the next
morning, creeping up the stairs and into her bed. She hadn't realized
how late it was, and I suppose, had the sasquatch tribe not become
so enamored with her, they would have been more cautious and
insist she return home so as not to risk their unwanted exposure.
Yet, as the budding love between the sasquatch tribe and the girl
became established, so did extreme trust on the part of the
sasquatchpossibly at least somewhat blind trust. This extreme
trust centered on a belief that this little girl was not only trustworthy
and innocent, but adult enough to follow through on her
trustworthiness and innocence. I tell you, if this girl were more
161
mature, she would have known the things they assumed she knew.
She was just a girl, and she was the best girl she could be at her age.
But, a while after this girl returned to her bed, she was surprised not
to hear her father get up for his routine early morning hunt. She
went to look for him and found no sign of him. She ran and ran and
screamed for her father, nearly understanding for a moment what
she may have done. But, her father soon returnedthough with
some of his friends, in his tractor, guns in hand. They had not gone
on a hunt, only a hunt for his darling girl, whom he loved more than
he thought any other ever could. They embraced and cried and
lovingly scolded one anotheras this innocent girl was as afraid in
finding an empty house as was her father.
Around this time, many little girls had been disappearing in the
mountains and no one knew why. Personally, I feel it was some
stranger in town doing away with them. I know that's hard to take,
but it seems too much like a coincidence that they'd all wander off
within a few months of each other, or that some strange animals got
them all without a trace. And, the sasquatch certainly would never
be to blame for this.
In tearful celebration of finding his daughter, the girl, her father, and
all his hunting buddies had a large meal out in the town a few miles
down from their mountain. At one point during the dinner, the
father suddenly remembered some man he once heard in this bar
whom he previously dismissed as crazytalking about some
creature called "sasquatch" and how they are probably why all the
girls are going, since the girls all disappear from the woods where
the creatures are reported to live. When he remembered this, it must
have hit close to home, since all the girls' disappearances happened
in the same woods where his daughter was playing before he
thought she had been taken. Naturally as a father, protective of his
daughter, his fright, concern, and love prompted a desire to further
shield his daughter from potential harm.
162
Apart from his daughter's knowledge, her father and his buddies
were planning a full-fledged hunt for any sasquatch around they
could find. They planned this hunt for the day his daughter was
supposed to have started her fist day of school. However, when this
day came, the girl wasn't in school; she was in the woods with what
she, at this point, had come to think of as her second family.
The sasquatch were showing her magic that they performed with
rocks and their minds, such as their ability to send sparkling dustlike substances through the air to get people's attention, and their
ability to send their voices into others' minds. They don't have vocal
chords, by the waythey communicate through telepathy, and they
could also read the girl's intended speech this way.
From the distance, to all of their disbelief, they heard the sound of
gunshots and falling trees. They were all used to falling trees as
space was being cleared for new houses for the people wanting to
move from the city down the mountain, but these sounds were
different. These tree fallings were due to military jeeps, that the
father's buddies had brought up, mowing over trees in their way that
were small enough to be toppled over. This was such pitiful
disrespect of this wonderful country out here.
Anyways, what happened next is a tragedy. A massacre. The
sasquatch were too surprised to hide themselves in time from the
gunshots that killed so many of them. And then, as the little girl was
being safely cradled and carried by her running sasquatch father, her
human father could not see his daughter, until it was too late. Both
the sasquatch father and little girl were killed with a single bullet.
There was a funeral for the girl, and many, many funerals within the
remnants of the sasquatch tribe. The girl's father and his friends
were profoundly distraught by the girl's death, completely gave up
hunting, and each began to slowly descend into a deep, chronic
163
sadness. For the members of the sasquatch tribe who lived, their
lingering pain would be unfathomable to humans. Sasquatch are
each connected to their tribe, their family, in ways deeper than are
humans.
The father was eventually killed in a foreign war that he volunteered
to fight in, and, one by one, his hunting buddies died through
similarly risky and even suicidal behavior. The rest of the sasquatch
tribe died in ways nearly mirroring the deaths of each of the hunters
that killed their familyincluding the little girlthat day. It's as if
these were parallel realms of love, neither necessarily more perfect
than the other, just different.
But, I have heard that the story does not end like this. This story
only really tells of a potential series of events foreseen by the wise
sasquatch, later revealed to the story's little girl when she was
viewed as certainly trustworthy. And yet, even if I said I was this
girl, you wouldn't be convinced, would you?
164
Positive Images
Garen's nightly ritual reached the dead of winter, adding to so many
other winters, wandering through the bare clawing barks and twigs
and solemn pines. The floor of this forest glistened with overfrosted snow, brightened by the even whiter moon. This night was
especially cold, as was the strut of Garen's step and his tired eyes
looking upon the same path for yet another night.
Through the prickery thorns triumphantly posed even in their midwinter death, he saw anew a grove he had seen so many times but
never approached. This was the time for a changea time for
approaching this thicket beyond the thickets at hand, maybe to find
a place offering some break from a hardened and solemn path.
A subtle mist appeared in his eyes and a tiny smile, some new vigor,
as if this might be the exploration of the century. He brushed
through the prickers that mostly broke easily, but not without
pricking his hands and outermost sweater. Just past this miniature
maze of thorns lay a surprising frozen stream and then, beyond that,
a grove so dark yet welcoming in newness and some sort of
enchanted beckoning.
A flame as if a shooting meteor on fire, running past the corner of
his right eye, and once again he was youthful, though an old man,
chasing out of instinct some sort of candle with wings. And now he
is running and brushing aside the feathery arms of thickly growing
pines and can make out more and more but only barely some sort of
white night gown and a candle. But it is so fast and he is out of
breath.
But suddenly there is this open field. How could I have not seen
this before? This is almost some sort of ancient amphitheater with
its center a small ring of pines encircled by acres of rolling and
165
dedicated and loving work. The cottage adorned with the woman's
floral paintings are illuminated with a warm orange glow from
candles and an old wood-stove. My perspective then widens so that
I see her husband reading the day's newspaper at a small but sturdy
round honey-colored wooden kitchen table. She comes over to
deliver him his tea after she had already served herself and with
some sipsher maroon lipstick marks the turquoise gleam of the
mug already on the table as opposed to his olive and avocado
smaller and thinner mug. As she sits, he quickly gathers and places
his newspaper downwhich he was only moments ago deeply
entranced by, brightened with a smile at the knowledge that they
can now discuss their daysand the newspaper. I suppose this man
was away for a good part of the afternoon, out to some country
stores with friends. I know they are one of the happiest couples I've
ever been able to observe.
My perspective retracts through the window (with a moment of blur
from aged glass and some rugged thin bars of almost papery wood)
and suddenly whizzes upward once again into the atmospherebut
not yet into space. I almost feel a headache and queasiness from
this sudden jolt, and I am somewhat disoriented. But I soon see
clearly enough to note that I am already slowly descending upon the
whole North American continent, and I discern that I am centering
in on north central Arizona, upon some place very remote in the
Painted Desert, rumpled hills rippling around a tent set up between
sparse cacti and small flowers. There is no snow, but I know it is a
cold night. I don't know how much time went by as my perspective
only gradually focused in on this scene.
I see a mother with dainty yet glowing thick dark hair come out of a
tent slowly and as if she is beginning a dance in a unique ballet of
sorts. Ias shecatch this beginning of a meteor shower of white
gleaming hot dots and shooting lines of cracked and cut diamond
and glittering powder. Her face brightens with the lighted spirits
that comes with knowing she has such a gift to give to her son who
168
170
has a store of water, though, in jugs she makes from clay dug deep
in the ground. Though she eats only berries, nuts, and occasionally
mushrooms, there are so many flavors on this island that she never
gets tired of them. The cat never tires of the mice, insects, and fish
she finds either, nor the guinea hens she sometimes catches from the
trees and amidst the short flowery bushes beneath them. And, the
cat most certainly never tires of the many types of swampweed she
very much likesthough the older lady does not like them at all!
While the grey fluffy cat bathes her own self, the older lady bathes
in the little pond at the top of the hill. It is shallow and very clean;
no branches, pine needles, nor leaves fall into it because there are no
trees this high up! The water is so clear that it sparkles with the
colors of the smooth pebbles that cover its bottom rather than any
sand or mudcolors from red, to brown, to black, to yellow, to
purple, to blue, to white. This pond is so clear because it is
generated by a clean spring that flows from underneath the hill to its
top, down the stream in back of the lady's hut, and into the swamp
which it fills in entirety.
For fun, the lady writes poems, plays, and even music that she plays
on flutes she makes from long branches and short twigs. She is
inspired by all around her that gives her sustenance, peace, and
constant enjoyment. Even at night, she is inspired by the view from
her window that faces the bottom of the hill, where, beyond clear
skies, the woman can see planets and stars more brightly than she
ever could when she lived in the city. She and her fluffy grey cat
are o.k. here, and, in fact, very happy.
172
173