Once again, at exactly 10:43, the trout wriggle their way from the black holes of the polka dot wallpaper, and I’m still not in love.
Maggie screams.
The fish whiz from one side of the room to the other, slapping me with their wet tails, knocking over not a few of my antique lamps onto the pillow mounds I set up on the carpet.
One fish slaps me especially hard in the face, and I catch him. I’m not surprised to find that it’s Shard, my least favorite trout of all time.
“What’s wrong with her?” I say, squeezing him.
“There’s nothing wrong,” Shard says. “This isn’t about wrong. Didn’t we already talk about this? A million times?”
“She has a doctorate, Shard. Don’t you, Maggie.”
A very pale Maggie nods in silence.
“Does that mean nothing to you?” I say to the fish.
“Not really,” Shard says. “I mean, that’s quite an accomplishment, but it doesn’t make any difference to us.”
“I should just paint over your holes and be done with this nonsense.”
“You can’t get rid of us that easily.”
“I’ll use lead-based paint.”
“I know I said I believed you,” Maggie says, very quiet. “But I didn’t. I thought you were crazy.”
“And you still wanted to be with me?” I say.
“Yeah.”
I don’t tell her how stupid that sounds.
“Why do you think they always come at 10:43?” Maggie says.
“Ask him,” I say, holding out the trout.
“Well?” Maggie says.
“It’s sort of a big secret,” Shard says. “It’s connected with the meaning of the Universe. If I told you, there would be dire consequences. Do you still want to know?”
She nods.
Shard wiggles free of my grip, and whispers the secret in her ear. Then her flesh erupts from her soul, blinding me with blood, and I wipe my eyes clean in time to see her light funnel into one of the black polka dots.
“Why would she do that?” I say.
“You’re never going to love anybody until you start trying to understand them,” Shard says.
I grumble, and don’t tell him how stupid that sounds.
Maybe next time I’ll try a lawyer.
___
© 2008 Jeremy C. Shipp
Jeremy C. Shipp is an author whose written creations inhabit various magazines, anthologies, and drawers. These include over 40 publications, the likes of Cemetery Dance, ChiZine, and The Bizarro Starter Kit (blue). While preparing for the forthcoming collapse of civilization, Jeremy enjoys living in Southern California in a moderately haunted Victorian farmhouse with his wife, Lisa, and their legion of yard gnomes. Heʼs currently working on many stories and novels and is losing his hair, though not because of the ghosts. Sheep and Wolves is his first published collection, and his debut novel is called Vacation. He also wrote a short film called Egg. Feel free to visit his online home at www.jeremycshipp.com
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Tags: Jeremy C. Shipp, surreal
December 27th, 2008 at 9:01 pm
Sounds like this one ranks up there with some of the odd dreams I’ve been having lately. I really enjoyed this!
December 28th, 2008 at 12:46 am
Nice work as always Jeremy.
January 1st, 2009 at 3:33 pm
Jeremy,
I didn’t realize that trout hold the key to the meaning of the Universe, but there’s a lot of stuff I don’t know. I haven’t been trout fishing in a while, but I will definitely look at them differently now. LOL Keep up the good works my friend, I always enjoy your work.
Barbara
January 2nd, 2009 at 6:23 am
JCS, i always enjoy your work. i need to email you some of my dreams. i’m still working on my story. i’ll Myspace/Facebook it to you when i’m done. beware the yards gnomes and long live the sporks. Justin.
May 17th, 2009 at 5:41 pm
This is why I don’t go fishing.
Nice story.
May 17th, 2009 at 6:21 pm
I enjoyed this story. I was laughing so hard at the lead-based paint threat that it peaked my husband’s curiousity as well. He will be reading the story shortly. Great work.
MG
May 17th, 2009 at 7:16 pm
From the first time I came across your work, I’ve been hooked man. This is another great one from you. Very well written and twisted, just the way I like em!
Thomas
May 20th, 2009 at 12:53 am
Thanks for all the fish.
May 21st, 2009 at 3:03 pm
This was extra fun for me. I am a law enforcement dispatcher and at least in OUR ten-code (there are many variants), 10-43 is “information.” So if a trout knew the secret of the universe, that is definitely the hour at which he would divulge it.
May 27th, 2009 at 12:01 am
[...] trout [...]
June 28th, 2009 at 8:10 am
This story is sooooo good….
October 16th, 2009 at 6:02 am
Bizzare!
I like it and I don’t know why …
October 16th, 2009 at 6:20 am
I think at 10:43 I will stay away from wallpaper. Nice, Jeremy!
October 16th, 2009 at 6:21 am
I love it Jeremy! I’m a trout fisherwoman, so now every time I go fishing I’ll think of this story.
Great job!
October 16th, 2009 at 6:30 am
Well what could I possibly say to that except : Cheese on toads.
Entertaining read (there’s just something about fish…)
October 16th, 2009 at 7:51 am
Very entertaining! Well done.
“I think fish is nice, but then I think that rain is wet, so who am I to judge? ” Douglas Adams
October 16th, 2009 at 12:20 pm
Fishy…and fun. I’m changing my mind about the polka dots I had picked out for the bedroom.
October 21st, 2009 at 9:18 pm
Wow, that was all twistedy. But it makes my chatting with dead rodeo clowns through my cell phone much more acceptable.
Bravo!
December 29th, 2009 at 2:35 pm
This is phenomenal.
It obeys the two rules I have for great short horror.
1. Make it as feckud up as humanly possible.
2. Explain as little as you can without leaving your audience entirely lost and confused.