In the dining cart of the slow-moving train, I eat the meal set before me at the “Best of the Best” conference. It’s a white-china-linen-napkin-breaded-lemon-chicken affair. I’m seated with three other people I’ve never met before—all of them “Best of the Best” conference participants. We’ve submitted resumes and won the chance to be here.
“Why is this train moving so slowly?” I ask the woman seated across from me.
That night I shed an exoskeleton of fear. It happened as a sweet pulsation overlooking the river. My body crackled with suspense as, like an exhausted sprinter, I was overlapped by a clear and gracious winner. There was no creaking or moaning as it wrenched itself free. It left quietly and with all its dignity.
I’d been gifted an excuse, a chance to reclaim my wilderness and that’s the end of my story.
Houses whispered as she walked past.
“Choose me.” “Choose me.” “Choose me,” they enticed.
The origins and depth of her longings for strange homes confused Lois, but she wanted to be inside each and every one of them. We all have our lusts.
Really, I did feel bad about neglecting the alien, but I was terribly busy at work that week. I’m a delivery driver and Christmas is our busiest time of the year. And the company cancel your Christmas bonus if you clock-in late more than once in a month.
So, I’d just stepped out the front door that morning and there s/he (gender indeterminate) was: standing beside the bird feeder – a six foot high Giant Crab, waving her/his front claws rhythmically like giant windscreen wipers.
Apart from hunger, I have zip in common with Chizzy, but he’s ex-army and knows how to handle himself. It was my idea to pair. Chizzy’s a quiet one, keeps a low proaf. Literals: we’re elb-to-elb in cold grit and he’s silent as a panther. Got the same lean, muscular phys’ too. Mabes he’s stashed some weights some place and works out, sly-style. We have time apart daily so we don’t do each other’s heads in – not so long we morb-out though. There’s zip to be gained from that.
It’s Audrey on patrol tonight, pacing back-forth on the other side of the fence. She’s ‘resplendent in Halloween green’ through Chizzy’s mil’-grade binoculars.
Photographer: Look to the left. Okay, good. Now to the right. Fine. Now look straight at the camera. Hum … Not so good. Your profiles are best. You look more noble.
God: It’s my nose, I think. It’s more regal in profile.
Photographer: Yeah, I think you’re right.
God: I’m always right.
From inside the dim recesses of his bedroom, the yellow light of the laptop screen soaking his skin in a sickly glow, he purchased the parts.
They arrived sporadically over a raw-bone winter. Limb by limb. Feature by feature. Ordered via the Dark Web. His hands itched as each delivery piled on his doorstep. Stomach quivered as he sliced open the boxes with the jag of a serrated kitchen knife.
Her skin was crystalline, stomach slim, hips like blown glass. Blueprints pertaining to a pristinely crafted perfection. The only blemish: crimson lips that came as adornments. He’d selected nude on the website. Allowances could be made. A first-time hiccup. The parts had taken a month to arrive and her assembly, carried out in the icy bowels of the basement, was well underway.
“Do you have a moment?” The old man asked me.
“Well, a few,” I responded. “I have to return this book by 5 o’clock today. They charge an exorbitant late fee.”
“One spare moment is enough. I just want you to help me mull over something that’s been consuming my thoughts.”
“Of course, but I don’t believe there is an afterlife.”
“Ha! Silly boy! I was only going to ask you if you were happy.”
My phone pings, an electronic ring, clear and sharp. Morning, afternoon, and in the still of night.
Ping, a father’s text lecture. What good is your writing doing? Show me proof. Would you consider law? You can make good money. Fatherly translation: Being a lawyer gives me status with my friends whose sons and daughters are not just lawyers, but doctors and physicists.
Idle Ink 