A Story in My Pocket.

The prize strung ahead of the nose,

when you catch the undertow,

and then quite suddenly,

wood is whittling,

reality is spinning,

the line between is thinning,

and all you can really perceive,

through your constant scrutiny,

is the cause of this heavy feeling ;

through the flaws of space and time,

you vaguely make out this form of mine,

balanced on scales made of porcelain,

ankles broken,

eyes wide open,

you shouldered my weight a while,

you ordered the return of my smile,

splinted my legs and marched me away,

you slipped a story into my pocket,

and it started and ended with truth.

 

 

Un-Pleasantries.

I could not have known; how could I have known?
that I’d be buried alive and fallen steadfastly asleep,
the oxygen was low, dwindling…
the dirt had filled most of my mouth and both nostrils completely,
this happened within what I then approximated to have been:
about a half an hour,
in spite of my conscious efforts to avoid such un-pleasantries;
but, there I was…
underground, and worse yet,
late for the third scheduled appointment with Death;
and once again,
I will not be able to keep the appointment…
he will NOT be pleased.

The “Unsecret” Dialogue Chronicles – Part 3

A NOTE ON THE VOICES OF “S” AND “J”:
• “S” SOUNDS LIKE AN ADORABLE SOUTH AFRICAN (WITH TOURRET’S)
• “J” SOUNDS LIKE A HIGH-STRUNG VALLEY GIRL (WITH TOURRET’S)

Liquid noisily splashing against plastic sheeting in background.
J: So, uhhhh….were ya gonna tell me about the toaster or…..?
S: J…would you please stop stepping there! You’re making a mess – LOOK!!!
J: Sorry, oh oops…my foot was stuck to some Jello-y stuff that’s stuck down…oh shit…oops…
S: J! Stop fucking around and help me with the mirror real quick – hurry!… or else the dude you didn’t see yet becomes a problem for us!
J: Okay, okay…
slips and slides her way over to the counter and climbs up next to S, who is tearing off a sheet to cover the vanity mirror with
J: Bear! The toaster!
S: Right right…the toaster…

the two struggle briefly to reach all the way to the ceiling, as they are only ten feet tall – combined.

J: This is about your Gods damned burgle, isn’t it?
S: Huh? Oh….that….huh?
J: Don’t play dumb with me!
S: You do realize your own circumstantial lack of leverage here, don’t you?
J: THE TOASTER!!!
S: Huh?….

*The final sheet of plastic has been lain; and the two tiny creatures sit down on the vanity counter-top with surprisingly heavy ‘thuds’, one grinning widely and the other exhaling a sigh of frustration *

S: That toaster was well worth the money I spent on it, though – for the record…

J is totally distracted by a shimmer in a puddle of dark blood

J: Why?…how much did you pay for it?

CLICK HERE for Part 4!