My uncle had one of those see-through corded phones. It was a skeleton. It was in the basement where my parents used to put me, not so much out of punishment I believe but more so out of vague control. It couldn’t have been a major holiday, I don’t remember my sister being there. Just stopping by perhaps.
I don’t remember much, but I remember little things. It’s weird seeing pictures from 1995 and seeing how clear the air was and what it was like to be outside. Jean-short, full bearded, off white, faded. Dirty. Everything was old and dirty. Everything was wood paneled and the lights were dim.
So I’m sitting there, just fucking marveling at this see-through phone. I think it would glow up too whenever it got a call. I always wanted everything to be seen like that. You always see things work, but you never see exactly what makes it work.
The couch was all sagged and I’m just sitting there playing Sonic the Hedgehog on the Sega Genesis, playing the first two acts of Green Hill Zone over and over (I never really cared for the boss) until it was so perennial that the only thing that could keep me entertained was this fucking see-through phone. It was green or yellow.
Oh, and they had this bird, too. He was yellow. I never quite got his name, but I’m sure he doesn’t even remember me. It breathed in antiques and just poked around at the foot of the steps, so if you weren’t ready you might get scared a little bit when it tilted its head towards you and squawked.
You know, I never understood why people owned birds. Dogs can bark and bark but at least they’re polite people. Cawk. Cawk. Cawk. All day, nothing but. It’s like when you’re sleeping and the alarm goes off and you’re so groggy it takes you a while to stop it.
Except now you have no arms. I think that’s what hell is like. A little birdie told me some story about how hell is like when you’re surrounded by divine food but you’re arms are too long or short to eat it. Or the forks are too small. Some shit like that.
Cawk. Cawk. Cawk. All day this thing. The weird thing is someone would come down eventually and pull this tarp over him, and he would shut up completely, and they would give me this wink, and I smiled with them, like we both accomplished something, or I could at least learn to breathe again with that noise gone.
You know, I never really liked that bird. Still don’t in fact, but maybe that’s the point. Maybe people need constant reminders of how futile their lives are, and that’s that deafening sound. Or maybe they never hear that bird and he’s the only one that speaks any truth.
Then they take his cry away, even though they’re already negligent. Odds in his favor after all. My 70-year old uncle, he could build you a shed from scratch but still have the same conversations with enough wine around.
I always wanted to take that tarp off the cage, only thing is, I was afraid I would eventually become the monster under my own bed.
Hello everyone! Hope you all are doing well! So since I’m probably going to be taking a break from writing here to focus on schoolwork as well as other personal matters I thought I would share with you a short story I wrote late last year. If you’re in for a read, please take a look and I would love some feedback! Any and all is welcome! It was the first short story I ever wrote, so please be kind. A sendspace link to the PDF is here. I’m going to keep this link as a page on my site for anyone who would like to revisit it. Here’s the first paragraph for all you teases out there:
The parking lot was so cracked I was surprised I could even walk in a straight line. My feet felt like cinderblocks as I took the longest walk of my life. The smoke that emits from the back of the restaurant gave an eerie cemetery-like feel to this whole charade. It was almost pitch black, most of the street lights were either turned off or busted. Fortunately for me, or unfortunately, I looked up to see Brian and Xavier, two of my co-worker friends, standing under one of those busted lights. They were covered in heavy shadows, so I could barely see them, but they didn’t make it an issue as Xavier talked animatedly over Brian’s shoulder. So right now I was in a town I didn’t even know, hanging with two people I barely knew, just getting back from confessing to a girl I had only been with a couple of times. I couldn’t even call this a dream, because in a dream I could at least recognize people or places.
Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!