A Misrepresentation of Mouth to Mouth Resuscitation

-He was ecstatic about his new hair dryer.

-That seems odd.

-Why?

-Just never heard of a man being overly excited about a hair dryer.

-He has some thing about his hair.

-Still seems odd.

-Then why don’t you ask him, jeez. I thought it was interesting. Guess not.

-Odd can be interesting. This just doesn’t happen to be.

-What do you want from me?

-Never said I wanted anything. You came here. Started some pretty lame gossip. Now we are just sitting. Staring at whatever the hell is going on over there.

-How old is that guy?

-Has to be well over forty.

-She can’t be over twenty.

-Maybe they share a love Butterfingers.

-The candy bar?

-Sure.

-They are making out like there is no tomorrow.

-For him…maybe not. Time is definitely not on his side.

-Poor girl.

-She is living her life. Give her credit for dreaming.

-Dreaming of what? Taking care of a geriatric when she’s only forty. Many a year ahead. Full life to live and she has to change diapers on a grown man.

-You never know. He could grow to be a strong boy. Takes care of himself till the day he dies. I’m sure she’ll keep his body working, you know, sexually.

-Yeah, I got that. Now I’m picturing it. Thanks a lot.

-I think he just cupped her boob.

-I am leaving.

-Why?

-Don’t need to see young on old sexual perversities.

-It’s natural.

-What’s going on there is not natural.

-You are only saying that because it is going on right in front of you. If they were in a bedroom closed off from prying eyes you wouldn’t think twice about it.

-Exactly. That’s why I’m leaving. I don’t want to see it. Hell, I don’t want to see two beautiful people kissing and groping. Much less someone who could be my father sticking his tongue in and all over some girl my age. You can stay and get your kicks but, I’m out.

-Don’t leave. Let’s just move. There’s a bench over there far away from this.

-Fine.

-See, only the clear night sky to fill your eyes.

-Thanks.

-For?

-Moving. That was noble of you.

-It’s not like I wanted to stare at them.

-Just say welcome.

-Welcome.

-When I was little I would stare at the sky and wonder who changed all the little lights. I asked my dad if I could do that when I grew up.

-That’s silly.

-I was like five or six. You have big dreams at that age, no matter how silly.

-I wanted to be a chef. I would make all types of food with clay and putty and pretend I was on a cooking show.

-See. Now how do you feel about that?

-You couldn’t pay me. Too much work.

-Look at that…

-The old guy left.

-What?

-The old guy. He left but the girl is still there.

-What’s she doing?

-Just sitting there. It’s weird.

-How could it get any weirder.

-She’s not moving.

-You have to recover sometimes.

-It’s not like that. Like a death stillness.

-How would you know?

-You just know.

-Oh, you do huh? Go check.

-No thanks.

-Why not?

-Say Gramps did kill her. He could be lurking in the shadows waiting for someone to investigate.

-If he were going to do anything to us he’d do it. It’s dark as shit and nobody else is around.

-It’s the principle of the matter. If he is a killer he has his ritual. They all do.

-You’ve seen too many movies.

-Movies have nothing to do with it. I’m just using my brain.

-There’s a first time for everything.

-You’re so smart you go check. She’s dead. I’m sure. Hasn’t moved this entire time.

-Fine. You see anything creeping behind me just, you know, warn me.

-What do you see?

-You are right. She’s dead. Looks strange.

-What do you mean strange?

-She looks dry.

-Explain.

-She’s all wrinkly. Mummy like.

-What was that guy doing? Maybe sucked the life out of her.

-That can’t happen.

-Why not?

-This is real life.

-So.

-It’s like something out of those shitty books you read.

-Stephen King is not shitty.

-Keep telling yourself that. I heard if you repeat it over and over it will come true one day.

-Screw you.

-Eww…

-What?

-Her nose just fell off. It’s all dusty.

-He sucked the life out of her. I think I’m going to shit myself.

-That’d be a perfect addition to this night.

-I think we should go.

-What’s wrong?

-Swear I just saw something.

-Where?

-Behind you. To the left of you. Kind of all around you.

-What should I do?

-I think we’re fu…

 

 

 

 

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Out Phrom Under the Sanktitty of Fourgottin Wurds (Part 1)

1

October 2, 2004 was the day it happened. I was eating a sausage, a pickle, two types of cheese; swiss and…crap what was it….

(Gouda)

“Don’t even do that, don’t you make an appearance yet. I have to build up the suspense, get the audience worked up for you.”

(Everyone has a me so you are trying to be mysterious about something that the audience already knows about. That’s poor storytelling. Besides you were about to tell everyone about me…screw it…I’m his soul. I can talk. So, there. Ruined your surprise. But wait, they already knew this because their soul can talk. Book over.)

“You’re an asshole.”

(Probably.)

“Actually. Just let me tell my story the way I want to tell my story. Not everyone’s story is the same. Yes, they have annoying voices inside them, but, we’re kind of special.”

(The night rang out in a thunder clap that could’ve awoken the Gods. Luis sat with his thumb in his rear as he did every night waiting like a crow in a corn field for just the right moment to strike at life and make it meaningful. The light emitting from the computer screen turned his pale face a mirage of pleasant colors making it the one time in his life that you would not be disgusted in giving it a glance…)

“Harty har…lets make fun of me why don’t you.”

(Better beginning than you had.)

“Screw this…I’m starting over and without you butting in. Now…start chapter two.”

(That’s not how this works.)

“Don’t make me…

2

The night rang out in a thunder clap that could’ve awoken the Gods.

(Really?)

“What?”

(Stooping to plagiarism?)

“You never published that.”

(Try again. I swear, if you do it right I won’t butt in.)

“Promise?”

(Would I lie?)

“Yes.”

(Well I’m not this time.)

“Fine.”

3

I remember being a child and my mother trying to explain to me what a soul is. I was confused, thought she was a little crazy and tried to figure out why the woman that gave birth to me was playing this kooky trick on me. I remember asking:

“Mom you love me right?”

“Of course I love you.”

“Then why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not lying my darling Luis.”

“You just told me someone lives inside me and I don’t feel anyone living inside me so you have to be lying cause you are not telling the truth but you told me that not telling the truth is called lying so were you lying then as well?”

“Sweetie, it’s not like that.”

“That’s what you said.”

And it went on like this for a really long time. I have to thank my mother sometime for being so patient with my six year old self. I would’ve choked him/me/whatever. She just sat there with that heavenly smile. Knowing one day I would have all my answers. I got them. Fifteen years later.

October 2, 2004 I was eating lunch with a girl I had been seeing pretty regularly. Just eating, talking, looking at each other in that goofy way young love does.

“…the girl gets raped by a tree,” she says.

“That kind of thing happens when you summon demons.”

“Don’t you find it grotesque? I mean who comes up with that kind of shit anyway?”

“It’s a horror movie. Grotesque is its nature. What do expect from a movie titled “The Evil Dead”? Gummy bears rising from graves and smothering you in rubbery, sticky hugs?”

“I expect stupid people running around getting killed. Not raped by trees.”

“You think that’s bad, how about “Steel Magnolias”? Julia Roberts dies. Leaves her children motherless. The guy from “Picket Fences” has to raise his children all alone. On a daily basis he has to explain to them that their mother is never coming back. That they are stuck with him and his burly mustache. Fast forward a few years. Dad’s a drunk, lost his job. Can’t recover from the loss of his one true love. His bratty children run amuck screwing the slutty forty year old neighbor who lures teen boys with her fake boobs and nude sunbathing. All have served jail time and can’t get a decent job for their criminal records. They become homeless maybe addicted to whatever drug they can get their hands on by offering sexual favors to those willing. They die horrible deaths from drugs, disease, whatever. Now you tell me what’s more grotesque…one tree rape or years of human suffering all because Julia Roberts couldn’t get her insulin right or something like that.”

“You are ridiculous.”

“You are not the first to say that.”

“But you’re cute so, you take the good with the bad.”

I sat back in my chair and smiled. She smiled back.

(She’s cute.)

“Are you alright?” she asks referring to my instantaneous freak out from hearing a voice in my head.

(Dude, chill. You’re freaking her out.)

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“There is someone talking to me. Said you were cute.”

(You just blew this. Great job. That’s not a look of confusion on her face. That’s horror. I think she’s going to run.)

“I didn’t hear that. Everything okay over there?”

At that moment she gave me the same look I was probably giving her. I looked around the food court of the mall we were sitting in. Confusion everywhere. A woman screamed and dropped her new purchases not thinking twice about them. This was the day our souls came to life. The day no one’s life would ever be the same.