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He bled out and became a body before the ambulance arrived.
"Were his last moments vivid," I mused, "Or a gauzey, incoherent haze?"
"His final sensation was the taste of blood," Autumn replied, her face perpendicular to mine. A red strobe set her eyelashes aflame.
His pockets were empty. Next morning's tabloids wondered who he was.
"What will satisfy them," I said over grapefruit, behind a paper. "A name? A place of residence? His medical history? What, after all, is identity?"
Autumn said, "A disease."
"'Witnesses report the hit-and-run victim was using his cell phone at the time of impact,'" I read aloud.
"It belongs to me now," Autumn said. Her grandfather had been blacklisted.
She clicked through its address book, a dull, systolic sound.
"I'll call only those names that contain diphthongs," she decided.
"What about consonant pairs?" I smacked my lips for effect.
"Hello?" she said. "No, this is Autumn. Donald was hit by a cube van. He's dead."
She clapped the phone shut.
"Who was that? Douglas? Bree? Troy?"
"Is my voice very deep?" Autumn asked.
"Poor Donald," I said.
"Poor everyone," she replied.
Date Written: June 16, 2005Comments:
Average Vote: 3.33333
06/20/2005 Will Disney: I was a little worried by the opening graf but was glad to see the short maintains that tone successfully. I don't quite understand exactly what is happening here, but I agree with the sentiment.
06/20/2005 Jon Matza: A little inscrutable but I enjoyed the faux-artsy, experimental film vibe. THANK YOU, AUTHOR.
06/20/2005 Mr. Pony: I really appreciate you digging this thing out to help fill out the queue, Author. Way to take one for the team.
06/20/2005 Mr. Pony (4): I'm just kidding; I liked this.
06/20/2005 TheBuyer: I like the it belongs to me now line.
06/20/2005 qualcomm (3.5): it's all right. i appreciate the pretentious don delillo tone. but "at the end of the day," it's just not that funny.
06/20/2005 anonymous: Great. I'm really happy you liked that line, you useless seal-basher. Matza, why are you such a cheap, bloviating kike? Pony, I wouldn't serve your bloody urine to my dog. Disney: muppet, much?
06/20/2005 anonymous: Qualcomm, stop pretending you know what the fuck you're talking about. It's boring.
06/20/2005 qualcomm: ah, you're just ripping off my comment from 6/21/2004 10:33:19 AM
06/20/2005 Mr. Pony: I'll have you know, "Author", that your dog loves to drink my urine. Or at least, she doesn't mind it.
06/20/2005 anonymous: Stop treating everything like your horde of jew gold, jew.
06/20/2005 qualcomm: hoard, ass hole.
06/20/2005 Shane Mahoney (0.5): I fear for Man. I stare at the vast black gulf separating Man from his
Rezources and tremble. I worry that He is too far away for me to reach Him.
I shout and plead but my cries echo in the gloom of modernity, uselessly
redound off the plastic walls of post-modern man’s desiccated mind. I read
this material, this “short," and am reminded of the truly dark nature that
lies behind the very technology with which I reach out to you today. Like
the rare and precious rictus cran,
Man’s technology posses great beauty and danger in the same exotic package.
I read it and fear that Man proper, Hominis Rezourecis, is becoming as
extinct as the mighty Gaur of the East Asian plains.
This short, in short, is a symptom, as much as a pile of taluses is a
symptom of a weakening cliff face, as much as the paucity of cod roe is a
sign of an over-harvested Cod population and the increased likelihood of
depleted cod colonies and the concomitant loss of a unique form of aquatic
cod culture, a symptom of Man fallen, not from grace but something much more
beautiful, much more essential – fallen from rezources. Yes, this literature
is a symptom, a symptom of the weakness of flesh rent from its natural
ecology, of a creature poached from his natural habitat.
06/20/2005 Shane Mahoney: Man is diseased. It is an ephemeral affliction, one that none of his
healthcare-industrial complexes chemical concoctions can cure. No dazzling
pastel-dyed pill can heal this wound. Man suffers from a psychic gash, and
it runs deep. Only a cleansing bath in the natural rezources, husbanded in
the great tradition of the North American Management model, can begin to
clot the suppurated flesh. Only a wheelbarrow full of hearty peat moss
stuffed stuffed into the spiritual wound can be utilized to stanch this
Ecclesiastes writes "Look at the work of God, for who can rectify that which
he has damaged?” I am not here to evangelize. I speak to you not as a
profit, nor as a priest, but as a fellow man. One of you. Ecclesiastes
answer lies not in the Heavens, not in another dimension, but in the green
grasslands, the marshes and rolling hills of North America. You don’t have
to go far. Salvation is nearby.
Harken! The French horns are sounding. Harken brothers for the bleating of the
pig-eel will lead you back to the ancient lodge (it's in a grotto). Harken sisters, for the
song of the manatee, the mysterious seacow, will lead you back to the
healing waters. Back to where you belong.
06/20/2005 Klause Muppet (5): Didn't read his comment, but this is to make up for Mahoney's vote.
06/20/2005 Jon Matza: Re: 'cran', 'harken': are you trying to conserve vowel rezources, Mr. Mahoney? [Matza chuckles smugly, lights Gauloise blonde]
06/20/2005 TheBuyer (5):
06/20/2005 The Finch: It bears repeating that the rictus crane does not exist, nor has it ever existed.
06/20/2005 W. Mark Felt: My apologies. I intended to comment with my real identity. Old habits die hard, and all of that. Again, my apologies.
06/20/2005 Mr. Pony: Good work, everybody!
06/20/2005 scoop (4.5): my short is awesome!
06/20/2005 TheBuyer: too bad yor such a kweer.
06/21/2005 qualcomm: disney, why's my vote still counting toward this short's average?
06/21/2005 qualcomm: ah, that's better. guess it took a minute to fuck in
06/21/2005 TheBuyer: fu qualcomm.
06/21/2005 qualcomm: why so few real comments/votes? i mean, i'm giving you a short, and it's really just incredibly rude, you know that? do you like thinking less of people? is that it? that's funny, doing something mean? hey, don't run away. don't run away. you're a jerk, you know that? you're really a jerk.
06/22/2005 TheBuyer: I've been thinking about it...you really work hard to make people feel good.
06/21/2007 Lungclops (1): The Finch, I haven't forgotten you! You cannot hide from me! Take this one star, and shove it up your butt!
06/21/2007 The Finch: Good morning, Lungclops. I see you are a fan of the Rictus Crane.