on some level
we want to be guilty
to have someone chasing us
telling us over and over
that all our fuckups
mattered
that in the vast ledger
of life, a thick black book
there was a notation made
beside our names
“this one right here;
he was trouble.”
Read the previous chapter “Eat”
Wafts of burnt flesh spill from the tent, several hours of work and the screams have now become less fervent. Black sky becomes gray and the men patrol for hours through the yelps and yells that dominate the still woods. Outside the tent Jacob waits, keeps guard and tries not to focus on the noise or the smell.
Three more men have disappeared on their patrols. Five so far in the first night, not counting injuries from their first encounter. They are still out there, with dispositions that may not change in the daylight.
A tent flap pulls back and Mr. Rex steps out to stand beside Jacob. There’s a moment of silence as the tall man adjusts his gloves.
“Did you get what you needed?”
The tall man smirks, “it really is amazing how useful a car battery can be.” Continue Reading »
Chapter 4: Flare Up, Rain Down
The first thing he notices is the darkness. The second thing is how the cot he is on sags, like cots do: mere fabric suspended between two metal bars. It would actually be comfortable if his entire body didn’t ache and throb. Next he hears the patter of rain against canvas. Canvas of the tent he’s in. Under the steady beat, voices of men calling occasionally outside. He is cold, and damp, and he guesses at least a large part of his current discomfort can be blamed on the cool sogginess. The last thing he notices is that he’s alone.
His boots, borrowed from the helicopter, sit a few feet from the cot. A portable heater blasts in the corner, and the loud hum of a generator punches into his consciousness. He rubs his head and discovers dried mud bred into the back of his scalp. Continue Reading »
The dirt of the mountain gave way to mud as the rain picked up, and the mud now gives way to rubber threads of tires. The rain is steady, not quite a wall but noticeable enough to trail down over your brow and invade your vision. Cool, not a tropical rain, some men have begun to shake as the party lumbers on more or less as a whole.
“Sir!” a scout toward the front yells. Jacob can’t remember the scout’s name, not that it matters.
The mob slows, ready to make a brief camp, regroup with the others, and receive assignments. Jacob pushes through them toward the front, a grassy clearing is ahead. It pokes through the occasional evergreen and the row of Jeeps pointing the way. Mud sticks to his boots and he slides briefly as he stops along the perimeter of the meadow.
A black Bell helicopter stands rain soaked in the clearing, doors agape and contents spilling onto the limp stalks of wet grass. Continue Reading »
This forest is cool, dark in the way only secluded areas can be dark while the sun still shines through branches and pine needles. The area looks like any empty track of trees rocks and dirt, except the silent helicopter that stands still in the meadow beside the tall pines. Tall grass reaches to the bottom of the cockpit door, masking the skids beneath it. A gentle breeze pushes the blades, propeller and plant life wave slowly.
“Why can’t we just helicopter all the way?” Tiffany asks with whine in her tone.
“It wouldn’t work,” Loy says simply, “besides, we’d run out of gas before we got there, and we’d have to walk back out anyway. What difference is a few more steps?”
“A few more steps is like, the difference between walking up the block and walking down the street. Trekking through the wild, to and then from some lost ancient city is not a few more steps. It’s a lot of freakin’ walking that’s what it is.” Continue Reading »
Alexander, our older brother,
set out for a great adventure.
He tore our images out of his pictures,
he scratched our names out of all his letters.
Our mother should have,
just named you Laika!
#
Edward’s cell phone is ringing, which annoys him for a couple of reasons. First off, he works in a museum, and in the quiet surrounding the ring is amplified. Secondly, he’s just not a cell phone kind of guy. Face to face conversations, in person, with little chance of growing a brain tumor. And thirdly, because whenever he hears from Tiffany she wants something from him. He considers her a fairly good friend, but no one he’d trust his life to.
“Yes?” He answers.
“Hey, I’m here. You are at work, right? I have something you’re going to want to see.”
“Tiffany I’m here, at work, because I’m working. Can’t it wait?”
“Nope. You can’t wait. Trust me, just take 15 or something.”
Edward steps back from his display and looks up at the “Myths and Folklore” sign hung above the glass panel, “I’ll meet you in the cafeteria.” Continue Reading »
The city of gold does not shimmer in the daylight. It does not shine, beckoning explorers and treasure hunters. Ages of wilderness have claimed the once reflective yellow towers, brinks, and doors, concealing them beneath expansive families of foliage.
The sun does not show the way. In the moonlight however, many have stumbled upon the forgotten city. Forgotten and fabled by the all the world, except those who still claim it their home. They too come to life by the light of the moon. Darkness keeps them. Many have been unfortunate to stumble upon them as well.
As with all great treasures you cannot separate danger from reward. Discovery from trial. This is why the city shines faintly, and why it has remained so concealed. This is why few are fit for the journey. This is why few speak outside mythic tones and guffawed fables, about the city of El Dorado. Continue Reading »
LIGHTS UP
on an apartment kitchen. The morning after Thanksgiving. Steven is seated at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. Jess, his roommate, enters.
JESS
Goooooood morning!
STEVE
Mornin’.
JESS
How’d you sleep?
STEVE
With all that turkey your mom stuffed in me it’s a miracle I’m awake now.
JESS
Your family never did big Thanksgivings?
STEVE
You’ve met my mother, haven’t you?
JESS
Hmm, true.
STEVE
We’d watch the Macy’s parade, sure, but mom’s idea of home cooking was Chinese takeout from the cheap place down the street with a stiff glass of bourbon. Continue Reading »
There really isn’t anything to write about.
It’s all been done.
The Simpson’s have already covered it.
The Existential Significance of Homer, I believe has been covered.
Google: The Simpson’s and Philosophy. Amazon will have it for less than $10.
I wonder if they offer free shipping…
Debit or credit, ship to home or ship to store, these are the options in November so make a decision because there’s no going back, unless you have a gift receipt, and even then, I’m not so sure!
Who else is exhausted?
With a month left before the big day, I imagine there is still a lot of shipping and shopping left to do. The key is, save your strength because the holidays are just the beginning of winter. Especially in Colorado, where it snows into June.
Plenty of warmth, and lots of layers.
Who else wants an e-reader?
And I’m not even sure why!
I just know I want one.
It must be that #&%!ing Nook boutique inside my Barnes and Noble!
Their flashy white tables and awesome flat screen with on-screen attractive female has subliminally assured me my life is nothing without their touch-screen, read-to-me with moving-pictures technology, WiFi capable, digital array of text and color, all the rage, gotta have it now, my life is surely nothing without this device, wicked-awesome, I don’t care if it’s first gen, I just want one, e-readers.
Who else is with me?!
For $249, I can buy happiness. At least I think that’s how it works… I could have my numbers wrong… I should probably nail that one down…I’m sure there’s some tax involved.
Who knows?
It could be worth it.
I wonder if The Simpson’s has this one covered…
Better Google it.
And YouTube it.
On the e-reader I don’t have. Sigh.
