Posts Tagged ‘surreal’

Newer Entries »

SIGH By: Chelsea Lynn Charters

Tuesday, December 30th, 2008

You do not know me but I know you. Every move you make, I am beside you, thriving off of your chilled emotions. When each day passes, and night falls upon the world, I slither into your brain, cocooning my essence along the cerebellum. Although I control you and hinder your thoughts, I cannot fully own you…but you need me to protect you from yourself. Don’t try to deny it. And it is rather pathetic that you are your own worst enemy, but it is true, and that truth scares you.

I must confess that I do not wish to bring you much harm. I only yearn to be apart of you, to suck all the energy from your mind so I will be able to live on. You do not know this but I have a conscience, my own frame of mind. I may appear to be just another inanimate drug, much like the others you have taken before, but I am not. It is you aura, you life that causes me to exist. Do not laugh at me; that would be most unwise. If I can bring you peace, I too can bring your head chaos. Although, you think that this is your choice, ultimately it is not. I would come to you even if you would prohibit me. No matter what the consequence, I still would’ve found my way to you.

Yes, you may think I’m cruel and possibly even evil, but isn’t that true beauty of it all? I am the devil and you can pretend to be a pure soul whose only sin is to degrade him self by downing a few of my tablets. I do not care what you think of me, your opinions are not of great importance. I just need you to keep on living, and swallowing those pills, so eventually I will no longer need your assistance. And I’m sorry to inform that once I am done with you, there won’t be much of you left.

Go on! Try to toss me away in that can. I dare you…we both know, that in only in matter of seconds will your hands reach back, to carry me once again to the safety of your pocket. The addiction is consuming you, and there is only the choice to continue on using. It hurts me to see you this way, but there is nothing I can do for you now. It wouldn’t even matter if you tried to rid yourself of me. I’m too far in your blood stream, and coated on each breath. You can feel me wiggling around inside, and there’s always a pungent taste lying on the back of you tongue. And you can’t possibly forget my horrid smell escaping every time you sigh.

___

© 2008 Chelsea Lynn Charters

Tags: ,
Posted in Chelsea Lynn Charters | 1 Comment »

TROUT By: Jeremy C. Shipp

Saturday, December 27th, 2008

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

Tags: ,
Posted in Jeremy C. Shipp | 24 Comments »

Newer Entries »