Damning Words Made of Rust, Never to be Seen

The words are rust on a platter and obscured among a million other bytes of data. The platter is firmly screwed into a hard drive and the hard drive sits in a box under Beth’s bed. If the platters still moves, if it still reads, if Beth has the foresight to own the proper adapter, she might find a .rtf. It’s a bomb on a four gigabyte hard drive and it’s poised to destroy us if it’s found.

It was a different time when Windows 98 was king and no one I knew had a password on their machine. I would sneak in and write silly things, stories mostly. That’s where these words started then about a hundred backspaces later I was writing a confession. It was in bold red 14 point Papyrus and looked tacky as all hell. For five hundred words, I write of ass and tits and all those other things I told myself this thirteen year old girl had. It’s pretty much graffiti but that’s not why the hard drive scares me.

Somewhere in there my thoughts warp as if affected by sudden heat. I start to write about your chapped and awful lips and I can’t think of anything more I’d want to kiss. Then I think of those diamonds that were in your teeth and I realize that those were braces that I was staring at. I had seen one of the great horrors of dental plans and came out more enamored. Being a man of stupid convictions, I saved, closed the window and walked away.

Every time I’m in her room, I look at that box of components past underneath her bed and I think, if she just gave me 5 minutes I could get rid of that old hard drive and she’d never know. Of course, she’s given me 10 and 20 before, so I wonder how much of my stupid convictions I still have left. She never will plug that ATA hard drive in again. Maybe, that makes me sad.

Mary you still warp me.

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A Man of Light and Hell Just the Same

We were lost in motion and completely bereft of thought except perhaps the place underneath consciousness where your motors respond to the visual stimuli of a fire and you’re running. We ran so hard that I was surprised I could still see the fire when I stopped. I know it was a dry season, I know it was a lit cigarette but regardless of how it was born, I know it was alive. I saw a man, a white place in the orange glow with arms and legs. His hand moved as if conducting a symphony. I watched that man eat my house and everything I owned and I swore revenge. I was eight.

I still look for him in warm hearths, campfires and among red hot charcoal briquettes. If I ever see him, I’ll put a blanket over him and stomp on him until he can no longer breathe. Then in the smoke, I’ll cry, I’ll laugh and my 5 year old son will probably think me quite strange. My wife has already accepted me as strange and will probably just say “Yep, you sure killed it.” My inner child will want to joyously scream “YES!” but I’ll try to hold him back.

Side Effects: May Cause Melting In Others

Marsha was dripping like dough. Little pieces were just falling off her once perfect body in disgusting blobs on the kitchen floor. Daniel could only pick up the little bits as they fell off. Sure he had a cold and was pretty out of it but that was no reason for him to allow Marsha’s flesh to be discarded. Marsha was annoyed as she was trying to cook dinner and could not figure out what that over the counter drug fiend was doing. Who was right, who was wrong? Really, it doesn’t matter because soon afterwards Daniel had to puke, but it was only dry heaves.

Marsha could just pick up her own damn blobs after that.

Preseason Football, Post Apocalypse

The hate is naked and the motorcycles are revving up for the big game. We first get a glimpse at a wide receiver with an uzi on one of those wayfaring machines with the side saddles built into the bike itself. Soon we see a quarterback, a man gnarled and misshapen by the game he loves. This man played football before the fall of the United States of America and kept on even after the merge with motocross and unconventional warfare. We cheer for he is our champion.

It’s really actually quite hard to follow. In fact in the domed venues they have to turn off the lights and use night vision to keep score. Luckily we no longer have a dome here. It was destroyed in the last skirmish with the French/New Mexican alliance. Between them and the Manitoban Empire, I’m not sure we in the Midwest and Yankee Confederacy will survive. How I’ll miss the stars and sevens if it is replaced by a flag consisting of a maple leaf with vampire fangs. I sit back and try to enjoy the game.

The first quarter opens with the traditional lobbing of rocks at the visiting team. No one is injured, despite the fact that I could had sworn I hit a wide receiver dead center. In fact throughout the first quarter, only two people are injured and one of them is a referee and hardly consider a person except by the leanest of standards. Still, we make lip service to wishing them well despite the fact that we wish them pain and death.

The second quarter starts and the quarterback have their customary sword fight. The home team wins by decapitation and the ball is kicked to them by the pneumatic cannon. There are five murders in total in the second quarter and the crowd is as pleased as it has ever been. We always feel better after first blood is spilled, it relieves tension immensely. Halftime rolls around and the parade the dissidents down the arena’s stairs before the execution. They actually learned their choreography really well. We appreciate those who are about to die’s entertainment value but as a mass we are hungry and do not wish to miss the second half of the game.

As always the hork is excellent but the long pork and nachos is what most of the crowd gets. I come back to my seat just in time to see our brand new running back explode by the hands of a rocket propelled grenade. It’s such a tragedy because we traded five good goats to get him. Actually, the powers that be traded the goats, my family was actually rather keen on keeping our only supply of milk. Still, it’s sad because it’s now very unlikely to win the game. The third quarter ends and we’re cheering as an offensive tackle from the visiting team has just tripped a land mine.

The fourth quarter is a real barn burner and I say this as a person who’s witnessed a few in my day. Hell, I can almost hear the horses panicking. The ball switches hands about twenty times. Each side comes close to a touchdown but neither can make it in with both wheels or two feet. Then our quarterback drives the whole of our field and is thrown from his Harley into the goal post, ball in hand. Any other man would be dead but Roethlisberger just holds the ball aloft proving that he still has it. We bless his dense head and begin the celebratory looting.

6-0, it was the highest scoring game in years. I wonder who among us will be drafted for the next game. I hope it’s me, I really don’t want to live anymore.

Winona’s Mammoth Womanhood

It’s not the size of a woman, it’s the depths of the woman where Michael measures her. It may have been an adverse effect of the peyote but he was pretty sure that Winona had a whole cave system down there. He has in fact been exploring it’s nooks and crannies for hours. There is something about the ancient wonders of these caves that fascinates Michael and it just kept drawing him back further and further into Winona’s womanhood.

Winona for her part is actually pretty calm on the matter but then again she’s had painkillers which help immensely when dating Michael . As he feverishly humps a stalagmite, she finds herself watching his naked ass and she begins to time her breaths to it’s thrusting rhythm. It really is kind of strange to see a man dressed in only a pair of hiking boots and a miner’s helmet make passionate love to a former ocean. Strange, but not enticing.

Above them in rural Kentucky, there is a porn store smack dab in the middle of nowhere. It lacks variety but makes up for it by being the only game in the county. Still, sometimes Fred (the owner) wonders if there is better smut out there, new smut, pioneering smut. As he ponders this, a man is trying desperately to have intercourse with  a cave system but no one is filming him do so. Thus this act will be lost to history just because Fred never thought to look for pornos in a cave.

Luckily, there will be others with more foresight in the future

Above All, Remember That Nancy Is A Bitch

“Do you remember Nancy?”

“I don’t like Nancy.”

“That’s okay, but do you remember her.”

“Yeah, I remember her.”

“Where did you meet her.”

“I met her in the mall.”

“Like in the food court?”

“No, like a large grass field. How do you not know this?”

“You have to know this.”

“And you don’t?”

“What did she do?”

“She slapped me, because I was staring at her cleavage. I wasn’t.”

“What time was it?”

“She never apologized.”

“But what time was it?”

“Why are we doing this?”

“We need to remember this, because if we forget this they can fill the time in with new memories. You can’t let them take your memories. You have to fight it.”

“I don’t want to fight.”

“But you want to be you, right?”

“I do like me.”

“If you let them take today, they’ll take tomorrow too. Then after they’ve taken enough days, they’ll start telling you all about your new past. Then you are whatever they want you to be. What time did you meet Nancy?”

“I don’t know.”

“You looked down at your watch. I know you’re tired, they haven’t let you sleep but you have to look down and read what’s in front of you.”

“It was noon.”

“When did they reacquire you.”

“About 15 minutes later.”

“Now we have somewhere to stand.”

“What if I’m wrong?”

“Then you at least chose your past.”

“What if they cho..”

“Who is your mother?”

“Samantha Slate.”

“Who is your father?”

“Jared Slate.”

“Who is Nancy?”

“A bitch.”

“Open your eyes and keep all of what you can. Never ever let on to this.”

Inside The Box, The Sky Is Blue

Dawn came to the shore and although he could see the horizon expanding over the ocean Doug knew that he was inside the box. For five hours he had stared at the slowly widening cosmos ingesting every bit his eyes would allow. It was clear that being inside the box looking out would not do. Sadly, there was no button on the console of his ship labeled “fix crash landing”. Still, maybe in ten years he’d be back up there, if all things went right.

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