Path: not-for-mail
From: frank_fowlkes@yahoo.com
Newsgroups: alt.stories.urban-harvest
Subject: green, yellow, orange, purple, red, blue, and black
Date: Wed, 28 Jul 2004 02:41:27 -0700
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The snow was falling around him, and some black trees creaked slowly
in the wind. He lifted his hands away from the snow. The black
mountain crept into his thoughts again. *
*
when you start to feel tired rub *
crushed ice over your arms, face, * *
* neck, chest
* *
"Harder to stay awake now," he thought.
bend your left arm, tap right
phalanges against your elbow
He started to rub the snow up and down his arms and up to his neck.
hold your breath, count to
seventy seven
"And so easy to let go; so easy not to care; so easy not to think
anymore."
anything! just don't fall
asleep before the seventy
seventh hour
-
Followed the bum from the interstate; watched him from a distance; and
waited until he slept before crawling closer. The bridge rumbled, and
the air smelt like piss. Knelt down and stared at him, there, ashes
and trash, sleeping, dreaming. Wondered about his thoughts right
before he drifted off to sleep. He might not wake up tomorrow; might
wake up to a pain radiating out from the center of his chest, down his
arms, down his legs, no light, eyes closing around a black sky.
Nearer, watched his breathe sprinkle the air with snow flakes. Brushed
his cheek with the back of my hand; stepped back, crouched below the
horizon, and remained still. The bum was motionless, silent, but I
knew he was awake, skin and eyes, ears and nose, a mind not knowing
which way the wind was blowing. Wanted to climb, my black silhouette
rushing forward, and soon, my cold hands around his throat, drowning
him in his own spit. He soon fell back to sleep, not ever knowing the
reason why he woke up to a quiet black sky. She would always do the
same, even if it was to only stir, after a strange noise, after a
draft of wind, only that she sometimes remained awake a little longer,
imaginary shadows crossing a black framed window, and felt her heart
race. Myself, sometimes I would wake up in the middle of night, and,
strange, my mind empty, frantic almost, no place, no purpose, no name,
and after, my name is, I'm right here, I'm doing this tomorrow, fall
back to sleep just the same. Stay awake past the seventy seventh hour;
what if you went to sleep and you never woke up, she teased once you
know, and tell me then, your last thoughts right before you fall to
sleep. I crept closer, didn't care if she, the bum, or if anyone heard
me, soon, real soon, after the seventy seventh hour. Left the bum
there, fucker's gonna wake up to another day, new purposes, new
places, new names; left the cunt a long time ago, or maybe she left
me, doesn't matter anymore, she has her prayers I have mine, a prayer
after the seventy seventh hour.
Don't fucking drive a car, idiot; walk, take the bus!
1: water purifier, 2: instant live eggs, 3: growth food; guaranteed to
live two years
Normal nights, not any thoughts, stop prayers long time ago, only wake
up to another morning, an intermission, plenty food and plenty of
women, then, eventually, curtains closing, opening, mangas colored
red, the cream rising to the top, crap sinking.
Possible state of mind after the 77th hour: fucking really tired; just
need to close my eyes for a second; wonder what 38402 93845 02038 938
9 84 9 is up to. State of body: p 100, bp 150/90, r 25, t 36.0
Possible states of the body and mind after love: some bodily fluids
over a white sheet, maybe some moaning if she really loves you; or
someone in a trashcan, let someone build on a lie, someday a house of
cards finally crashing down.
Stone hammers
Blue toaster waved at little Red saucer.
"Hi!"
Little Red saucer started to cry.
"Super glue has put me together again."
Blue toaster nodded.
"A day smashed and put together again later."
Copper tea pot appeared.
"Day and night; morning, noon, afternoon, evening, and night; twenty
four hours?"
Little red saucer stopped crying.
"some pieces missing, missing parts filled in with super glue."
Copper tea pot left so did blue toaster.
"Bye."
Little Red saucer started to spin, around and around.
Stuff to do during the day so as to stay awake passed the 77th hour:
walk around, from one end of the city to the other; walk down some
railroad tracks, walk back; read; watch TV; work, no fun; pan handle
for loose change; protest something; anything, just don't rest, lay
down, drive, of course, or close eyes.
Stuff to do during the night: write, from memory, from the past day,
And put this thought in your pretty little head dear, maybe after you
close your eyes, sometime after the 77th hour, the whole world will
disappear, or maybe you'll never wake up again, or something weird
like that.
_