This is a long story, but I won’t post until Sunday or Monday – so take your time to read and to answer the question. Have a great weekend!
My question is: What do you think: 1. what is it for the place? (or where is it) and 2. what does it mean – ‘you are the next’? next ‘who’? Kent’s role in this place? Use the imagination.
I woke up in my house. On the top of the black smelly tights and 20 bucks. I had the feeling that Julia is gone. Who’s going to take care about my laundry?
I has been with a lot of women – students, office clerks, makeup-store beauties, academic badasses, voodoo chicks, musicians and other pyjama butts. The irony – I do not remember their names. Ever. As well as their faces. So whoever it was – she was gone.
There was a deep ache in my chest: cravings for coffee and a cig. I went downstairs, to the kitchen, ‘threw’ the smile to the mirror and said:
‘The world is filled with awesome, loving chicks, and I’m fully capable of, and freaking excited to find me a good one. Ha!’
And then I’ve heard it: the knock on the door.
The knock on the door.
‘I didn’t want to disturb you,’ – saying the girl.
‘Are you…Julia? Go ahead, make yourself at home,’ – I’m sitting and playing with the spoon. Do I look stupid? Fuck, no. I am powerful and in control of my house.
‘Are you a human?’ – she is asking. And finally I can see the difference between us. My heart is sinking.
‘A human? Of course not, – I’m responding slowly, following each her move. The girl is climbing up the stairs, her face is filled with a childlike excitement. I can hear the doors opens, the floorboards creaks. I think she is talking to herself. Do I worry? No shit, I need someone to do the laundry.
Suddenly she is behind of me:
– You look very…familiar. Have we met before?
I’m staring at her:
– I don’t think so, but I’m living here. The house belongs to me.
– Technically, nothing belongs to you in the place called Larm, – she is laughing.
No, I don’t like her. I can do my fuckin’ laundry by myself. At least my previous girls were polite. No-psychos, thanks. Plus older, yes, much older. This is what I’m thinking about before answering:
– I’m from the place called Ozone, – forgive me, my reader, I’m trying to use the fantasy, but without coffee it sucks.
– Where is it? Never heard about Ozone.
– Why do you afraid of humans? – I made myself comfortable, preparing to listen.
– I wouldn’t say ‘afraid’, just never seen them.
– Hm. So how do you know they are dangerous?
– Con told us. He is in charge.
– Have he met some? Humans?
The girl is laughing again.
She tells me her name is Ocean and she is from the place called Larm. I know, it sounds mad, but I’m thrilled to be with an awesome young hot chick who makes me giddy with happiness. Whatever. Maybe I’m just glad to get out of my Friday-routine. ‘Larm’ sounds like a cool place to spend weekends.
– Are you a girl? – my heart hopes she is, but my brain says ‘screw you.’
– A girl? What is it?
And here I go, singing her the song, and dancing. By ‘dancing’ I mean taking a very small steps to the left and to the right:
I met her on Grafton street right outside of the bar,
She shared a cigarette with me while her brother played the guitar,
She asked me what does it mean the Gaelic ink on your arm?
Said it was one of my friend’s songs do you want to drink on?
I just wanna danceeeee, I just wannaaaaa daaaanceeee!
– This is the song and the dance. My sister loved it. Ed Sheeran? Never heard? – I’m facing her surprised eyes.
-Ed Sheeran? Is he in charge on Ozone?
-Yeah! Right! – putting as much power into my voice as I can.
We went down the street. I’ve noticed that all the houses shrouded in a strange light-blue net. The larms looked just like us, but they were neither men neither women. I’ve found out also that they doesn’t need the food as often as we do, they are usually eating one of their own once or twice a year. Or those they’d catch from another communities or places. I guess that’s why they were so happy to see me. I was the next meal.
Ocean. Would she eat me? I think she would. There was no a dime of compassion in those big foxy eyes. And her teeth…Shit, shit, shit! The teeth of the larm are the one-lined white narrow bone. THIS IS THE PLACE where I’m going to end up my life.
– I’ll call you Patience, okay? – she’s touching my hand.
– No, no, no… Call me a Tiger. Grrrrrrrr
Suddenly she is jumping up in the air and moving with an incredible speed. Like a dragonfly.
– How did you do that? I saw you have grabbed something. But there’s nothing… – I’m pointing to the empty space.
– Do not think about nothing. Just take it, – she is showing me the maneuvre.
I’m staying in front of the nothing. Apparently for too long. I guess I look totally insane by trying to focus on ‘Nothing’. What is the colour and the shape of nothings in this area?
– Take HOW? – this is my irritated voice, mixed with a good attitude of the morning without coffee. And without sex.
– It is not some big mystery, but I don’t have an answer.
Why didn’t I run in that moment? I should have run. Idiot.
Instead I’m looking around, trying to catch the colorless fog with my hands. It is hopeless.
- on the other side of nothing is your freedom to fly
– You know that I can see inside of your mind, Tiger. More or less.
– So what do you see, Ocean?
Welcome to Kent’s mind, girl: I’m bending a fat gorgeous sister of Julia (if she ever had a sister) in a hardcore way and I’m letting go of allllll of my negative feelings. Self-confident Tiger is focusing only on the most important task right now. And, hey, go deeper in my mind, Ocean…
Larm-girl lowered her head and said:
– I’m not sure. Seems you are overexcited about the bodies that aren’t there.
– I bet you’d like to help…
– Help them or you?
– Oh, ok, forget it. You don’t have to answer that, Ocean. I’m not a bad guy, it’s just I never been able to keep my mouth shut.
We continue our weird walk: she’s flying on that ‘nothing’-board, while I’m moving my heavy legs by myself. This place makes me crazy. Anything I know – she already knows. What if she can spread my thoughts within a whole Larm so everybody will know everything about me before meeting (or eating?!) me.
– So how long have you lived here? I’m surprised you are still alive, Tiger. Those who can not mirror the reality – should die.
– I can. I know a lot about mirrors, – I’m throwing the lie at her.
Con looks exactly like me. It is clear – the dude is a human.
– Come in, Kent! Close the door, Ocean! – he is waiting, and when there’s no sight of Larms around us, he’s hugging me, – thanks God, you are here!
– Do you know me? What I’m doing here? What is it for the place?
– You are the next. The Next Con!
And then – he died.
Next post – Sunday or Monday (psycho-logical tale ‘Escape’)
© Ray Not (pen name for Victoria Ohlsson), http://www.raynotbradbury.com 2016-2018
Living in Sweden. Awesome. Happy. Ayurvedic food. Healthy lifestyle. Dogs. Literature. Painting. Meditation/Yoga. I love my life.
"It does not matter how long you are spending on the earth, how much money you have gathered or how much attention you have received. It is the amount of positive vibration you have radiated in life that matters" A. Ray