and random weeds started to grow around them into the thin layer or dirt and sand
I must've passed by it thousands, tens of thousands of times
paid it no mind
until it was no longer there
Now where the hell was it?
Did the authorities finally decide to tow it?
And if so did they know that truck was somebody's home?
I never learned his name
but I heard he moved in there after the war. State gave him enough money to buy a small apartment or something, but he chose that old truck
some people are bums by choice
Walking by I'd see him in arid summer days sitting behind the wheel windows rolled down a stumpy cigarette between his lips a small chapbook in his hand
Never got to see the title but I do recall the image on the cover 't was a burning tree with one shadowy, just vaguely human silhouette hanging from it
He probably wasn't the kind of man you'd want to have in your circles and perhaps his image dirtied the overall aura of the neighborhood
I don't know Don't care
All I do know now is that I'll never get the chance to walk up to his truck and ask him what he's reading and show him that I too have chapbooks of my own now
"The hell happened this time?" we asked but we knew it had to be another street brawl
He was known around town for those
for always starting shit and then losing horribly
There's no honor in winning he used to say. If you win it just shows you picked on someone weaker than you
Wise words of a drunk man
"So who was it this time?" we asked
and he said, "Some fucker from the bar."
"No shit. And why though?"
"I heard him talking. Said that his wife ran away from home and left him with the kid. Some four year old. So I asked, where the kid at then, an' he looks at me with the side eye and says the kid's at home. An' I asked how the hell he leaves a four year old alone at night like that, and then he tells me to mind my own business. He probably locked the kid in the basement so he could come out and drink and get shitfaced. I know motherfuckers who do that. I used to be one of 'em. So... I hated myself through him and him through me. And there was but one quarter of a step from there to a fight. We held it outside an' I got my ass kicked. Meaning I chose my opponent wisely. I always do."
"The guy left his kid locked in the basement so he could come to the bar and drink?" we asked
He seemed to think deeply about it. Wiped some blood from his face in the meanwhile "Yeah!" he finally burst. "The asshole! Hey, I know, let's drop by his place and give him a lesson. Let's make the night better for that poor kid."
"Right," we said. "An' where would that be? Where's he live?"
"Oh fuck. I should've asked him before swinging at him, no?"
"You should've done many things, old man. But for now, why don't you go home?"
He shrugged. "Ain't got any. I mean, not anymore I don't."
We put together some money and sent him to the nearest bar. Enough to get him through the night
The next day there was news of a homeless man dying in the streets
We're still trying to figure out if it was him or not
I'm afraid he was a bit too good at picking opponents
he was one of those writers whose bio said something like 'It is not my choice. The muse possesses me like a demoness and I write because not to do so would mean to have my soul tortured by a thousand bites and scratches of her fiery fangs and gelid claws. The only way to delay her devouring my soul is to put the next word down. And I strive to do just that. My destiny is therefore set in stone. I am a writer.'
he was also an amateur photographer and filmmaker Currently exploring the niche of torture porn
He was 34 and still lived with his parents who apparently didn't understand his artistic side and were constantly trying to crush his dreams into oblivion with ridiculous, outworldly demands like 'When will you get a real job and move out?'
He pitied them Pitied the blindness of their souls the deafness to real art and the artistic nature that oozed from his very being
It was like they had Jesus Christ in the flesh in their house but would not understand or care to acknowledge it
Poor souls
Anyway his latest project got him in a bit of trouble with the law
Something to do with a seventeen-year-old staring in one of his experimental movies
and now he knew he had it all figured out Just like the Messiah, he had to die, had to suffer to no end so that the blind herds could come to know his truth and understand his art
He denied his parents when they tried to hire him a lawyer
They had the poor girl lie on the cold tile floor and then they all pissed on her and you could hear them tell her to open her mouth wide and stick her tongue out It was one of the poorest videos on the site but the women watching it recognized the girl She went to the same high school as them back in the day
So trashy porn is what she turned to
Not exceptionally unusual, but one of the kids running in the park before them was her child Just eight or nine
"You know," said one of them. "Like it or not it's just a matter of time until our sons catch wind of this and then..."
"Oh my..."
"Goodness!"
"The sins of the parents are visited upon the children. It's not fair. Imagine the life her poor kid's gonna have."
"Yeah, our own kids might very well be the bullies, we'll never know. Like I said, it's a matter of time..."
"Well, goodness, what can we do about it?"
"Flag the video?"
"You know it won't work..."
"Oh, I got an idea. What if... you know, what if we all uploaded sexy vids of us. Um, not necessarily as trashy as this one but just pornographic enough. The boys won't be able to gang up and bully one if all their mothers did it... Right? C'mon, let's do it for that poor kid. Think about his future..."
or being laughed at for spending her days alone in her small cottage facing the dark corner of the room and talking to her dead daughter
encouraging her to eat up and grow up and complimenting her on the good looks she’d gained
“Oh, I bet the boys are all dropping dead in your wake, hehe. Look at those legs. So slim and long and deadly. You’re a beauty among beauties, my dear. Here, have another one. Eat up to grow up. You’re gonna have hundreds of strong, beautiful children, hehe.”
The neighbors and the world could keep calling her crazy, she knew she was just very happy
She grabbed another grasshopper from a jar and ripped its hind legs and placed it on the spider’s web
“Here’s another one, dear. Eat up and grow up, hehe.”
at 08:22 he awakens and pushes away the tarp he uses as blanket
he’s already dressed up and wears shoes
looks around at the blackening dampness of the walls
stretches a bit
takes off his coat and the blouse and the shirt and the tank-top
grabs a tissue wets it with rubbing alcohol and uses it to wash his armpits. He knows it’s good for killing the bad smelling bacteria
He knows much about how the world works for he’d been to school and even one year of collage in his youth
When his armpits dry he dresses up and gets out and checks under the big flower pots that stand before the entry to the building
He is wise to keep his savings there Otherwise the others would’ve smelled it on him and would’ve robbed him a long time ago He counts the money and feels satisfied with the sum
At 09:30 he eats a warm meal at the local soup kitchen and turns down four bums who ask to borrow money
At 10:10 he walks up to the big casino and enters
Now his imagination kicks in
Behind the entry he is greeted with luxury, he walks on the red carpet and sees the bright lights and the game attendants who greet him like a king
He is the king in his vision and he had returned to his castle
He smiles and walks around leisurely
A man needs to have but a clear vision of a bright future to live a happy present
He finds a seat in front of a slot machine
puts the money into the bill acceptor and starts playing
He is one of the happiest customers the casino ever had
in nights like this he would just drink in the dark and smoke and lie on his side and hallucinate about a snake vomiting vibrating colors on a white wall
Maybe the snake had eaten paint
But it was a small snake no bigger than a worm and the amount of dancing colors it vomited all over was astounding
Enough to paint the whole house
But the colors would never stay on the things they fell upon The colors would bounce around and dance and vibrate mingle with each other and part and mix again
and the small snake would vomit some more and it would make a sound like babies crying
All he wanted in times like these was to crawl over to the poor snake and comfort it in some way pat its head, place it in his armpit to get warm, feed it something, rub its belly up and down and around
But the little snake wouldn't come his way
Not even after he split the inside of his forearm from wrist to elbow to invite it into his flesh
"Fine then," he said. "Stand there and vomit until you die. We'll still be together one day whether you like it or not…"
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and the few survivors who couldn’t fight were lined up along with the civilians and shot or killed in ways to entertain the soldiers And dogs were trained to tear them to shreds and the ground became black with their soaked blood and over the next few days a carpet of butterflies gathered on top of it
“It’s beautiful,” he said
She didn’t pay attention. Was too busy removing golden teeth from a severed head she held in her lap. “Dammit, whoever made these implants did too good a job. I’ve to take ‘em with gums, alright. Look, my knife keeps slipping.”
“Stab his eyes please,” he said
“What? Why?”
“Because he’s looking at us. I can’t stand it.”
“Jeez, you’re such a pussy.” She quickly stabbed the blade into the head’s eyes one after the other. “Better?”
“Whatever,” he said. “Just hurry up and pull those teeth.”
“I’m trying. If I had better tools though…”
He was silent for a long time and then he cleared his throat and said, “Hey, so… now that this shitty war is over… like, what are you gonna do with your life?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Get myself a few gold teeth as extra spoils and go back home. My mom wants me to marry this fat guy from the neighboring village. I probably will then I’ll shit him out a few kids and… well, grow old and die, I guess.”
“What? Is that it? That’s all?”
She looked at him with a grin. “Hey, don’t worry, you’re still getting some. Just wait until tonight, okay?”
“Dammit, that’s not what the heck I meant. I meant… you know, there’s gotta be more to life than just… just getting married, making kids, and dying.”
“Really? Well, what are you gonna do then?”
“I’m… gonna write. About it all. The war and… everything.”
“Write? Like, a book? A story?”
“Yeah. It’s been my dream since before the war started. Now I’ve the experience to write about.”
“Bullshit experience,” she said. “Who in the fuck d’you think will wanna read that? What’s the story gonna say? How you killed the enemy? Poisoned their wells? Raped their women and enslaved their children? Stuck twigs down the dick holes of prisoners and broke them inside for fun?”
“Hey, I never did any of that.”
“But you were there when the others did it. And did nothing to stop them. It counts as--”
“Fuck! Okay, you’re right. Writing a book about this would be a terrible idea. Thanks.”
“Shit, look, I got one. This is solid gold. Two more to go.”
He sighed. “Listen…”
“Yeah?”
“About that marriage of yours…”
“Yeah? What about it?”
“Well, let’s just say… I mean, you know…”
“Fuckin’ spit it out already!”
“Don’t marry that fat guy from the neighboring village! Fuck, I said it.”
“Oh? And marry you instead?”
“Well…”
“Y’know, the fat guy from the neighboring village is the son of a fairly rich butcher. Family business. And you… Your father’s the drunk who hung himself to avoid paying back his debts. You see the conflict here, I hope.”
“So all you care about is money?”
“Why wouldn’t I care about money? I want to live good, thank you very much. This is the real world, not some romantic story. Wake up. I gotta make the rational decision.”
“I thought we had… something.”
“Yeah, we fucked a few times cuz’ there was nothing better to do. And we’ll fuck again tonight, sure. But that don’t mean we’re lovers now. Look, you’re a nice guy. I’m sure you’ll find love back at home. You don’t need a bitch like me. I mean, if you think I’m not gonna screw other guys behind my husband’s back, you’re seriously trippin, boy. So think about it, that could’ve been you. Would you want that?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Good. Well then, let’s get these teeth and go have some ale. It’s on me.”
She stood and with her hand soiled with blood she reached out and pinched his cheek and stretched it to force a smile on his face. “C’mon, cheer up, damn you! We still have a life ahead of us. Let’s fuckin’ live it.”
“Yeah… let’s.”
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Daydreaming as a profession 