12

There was a zombie in the front garden. Life with Ruth looks like it is coming to an end. I dont think I can stay here and Ruth wont leave. She walked out and fired a shot in the air. She later told me it was to scare the creature off. I wish I could get through to her but I dont think I can she is living in her own world and she is going to get me killed. As soon as the zombies the gun shot drew are gone then so am I. I knew this was coming but its hard to leave someone who has been nothing but kind to me, still its time to get back to what I do best, taking care of myself. I knew this was too good to be true.
Journal entry twelve.‭ ‬Don‭’‬t go crazy.

11

Life with Ruth.....‭ ‬Its‭ ‬interesting.‭ ‬Great to finally have some one answer back when I say something.‭ ‬Someone to laugh at my jokes or tell me when they suck.‭ ‬But I am beginning to remember why I wanted to stay on my own.‭ ‬Ruth has her set ways and I‭’‬m currently living in her house so I guess I can’t complain but‭ ‬it‭’‬s getting a bit annoying.‭ ‬It‭’‬s not like I can just go out of the house for a walk or head to the cinema its‭ ‬24/7‭ ‬living with someone I‭ ‬didn‭’‬t even know a few days ago.‭ ‬I think‭ ‬it‭’‬s going to take some getting used to but I guess I have plenty of time to get used to it. Its a 2 story house and Ruth has given me the spare bedroom to use so I spend a lot of time there if I need space and Ruth seem to know not to disturb me. Ruth and her husband were big into reading so its nice to finally be able to read something that does not have a picture of a kardashian on the front cover .

Journal entry eleven.‭ ‬Don‭’‬t go crazy.

10

Ruth and I have been getting to know each other better.‭ ‬She has been surviving on something she calls preserves but they taste like Jam to me.‭ ‬She and her husband had one daughter but she moved away a few years back and she only calls Ruth every few weeks.‭ ‬I have asked Ruth if she wants to move further into the mountains but she insists that she wants to say and wait for her husband.‭ ‬The problem is the house is very exposed and there are a lot of zombies in this area.‭ ‬I just‭ ‬don‭’‬t seem to be able to get through to her.‭ ‬It‭’‬s like she is still living in the past where her daughter is about to call and her husband is going to walk in the door at any minute.‭ ‬With‭ ‬takeout food and they will sit down and watch a movie before dinner. I like Ruth but sooner or later I need to decide between Ruth and saftey.
Journal entry ten.‭ ‬Don‭’‬t go crazy.

9

I found another survivor.‭ ‬Her name is Ruth she was‭ ‬holed up in a house I broke into.‭ ‬She nearly shot‭ ‬me before I knew she was there.‭ ‬I came in‭ ‬through the window and was going through the kitchen drawers when she walked in.‭ ‬As I remember it I raised my hands and told her not to shoot but she says I screamed like a little girl so she knew I‭ ‬wasn‭’‬t a zombie.‭ ‬What ever happened I‭’‬m glad I met her.‭ ‬Ruth is a woman in her fifties and herself and her husband lived in this house for the past‭ ‬30‭ ‬years.‭ ‬He went out to look for some food a few days ago and‭ ‬didn‭’‬t come back.‭ ‬She thinks he was just delayed‭ ‬somewhere and will be back soon.‭ ‬I‭ ‬don‭’‬t have the heart to tell‭ ‬her he‭ ‬won‭’‬t be coming back.‭ She is treating me like a kid but its kind of nice having someone taking care of me

Journal entry nine.‭ ‬Don‭’‬t go crazy.

8

I spent the day breaking into houses.‭ ‬It was actually kind of fun.‭ ‬I know the world has gone to shit and there are no cops,‭ ‬no judges.‭ ‬no jail.‭ ‬Shit I wonder how many people survived in jail.‭ "‬I lived through the apocalypse just to die of dehydration in my cell‭" ‬wow that has to suck.‭ ‬Still,‭ ‬I had to be Quiet breaking into houses if the zombies heard me they would have swarmed all over me like ants on a circuit board. But it was worth the risk ‬I found a shotgun and a pistol.‭ ‬At least I can fight back now and not just signal for help if I‭’‬m attached.‭ ‬Maybe my luck has changed, still I am not going to be so complacent that Im going to let my guard down I’ve seen enough films to know this is when I get eaten.

Journal entry eight.‭ ‬Don‭’‬t go crazy.

7

I have been walking all day.‭ ‬I‭’‬m trying to get as far away from the city as possible.‭ ‬I can‭’‬t use the roads as that‭’‬s where the zombies are.‭ ‬It looks like the fires have also driven them out of the cities.‭ ‬Its‭ ‬weird are they on the roads because they are easier to walk on or is there some kind of residual memory that tells them this is what they are supposed to do.‭ ‬I walk parallel to the road but a couple of hundred yards into the trees.‭ ‬I can see the them walking some of them look almost peace full as if they are out for a stroll but‭ ‬I know what they would do if they see me or if they see anyone like me.‭ ‬It‭’‬s all smash kill and then back to strolling.‭ ‬I need to find a gun all I have in my supplies is a knife and a flare gun.‭ ‬More evidence I‭’‬m losing my mind what the hell do I think I‭’‬m going to need to signal.‭ ‬Maybe‭ ‬I‭’‬ll decide it‭’‬s too much one day and just send up the flare and wait for the zombies to get me.

Journal entry seven.‭ ‬Don‭’‬t go crazy.

6

Fires started in the city last night.‭ ‬They spread ridiculously quickly.‭ ‬I almost didn‭’‬t make it out.‭ ‬I don‭’‬t know how they started but I know there is no one left to put them out.‭ ‬They will burn until everything in their path is gone and nothing left on earth can change that.‭ ‬I grabbed what food‭ ‬I could and the emergency bag so I got cloths and survival gear enough to keep me going for a few days.‭ ‬But I dropped my gun.‭ ‬Good bye secure house,‭ ‬bolted doors and larder full of food.‭ ‬Now I‭’‬m cold and I‭’‬m exposed but I‭’‬m alive.‭ ‬So I guess‭ ‬it‭’‬s time to move on.‭ ‬I‭’‬m heading away from the city,‭ ‬hopefully there will be less zombies the further out I go.

Journal entry six.‭ ‬Don‭’‬t go crazy.

5

I shot my first zombie in the head today.‭ ‬I was a couple of blocks over scouting out the‭ ‬neighbourhood when I saw a girl being chased by two zombies I fired my gun and winged one of them the other ran at me and I got a clean head shot from close range.‭ ‬Well ok I missed with the first shot and he was almost on top of me when I fired but I did it.‭ ‬The girl ran straight past me she was so intent on getting away from the zombies I‭ ‬don‭’‬t even know if she saw me.‭ ‬Still it‭’‬s good to know there are a few of us humans still running around.‭ ‬I didn‭’‬t follow her I figure I never really trusted people before the end why start now‭? ‬I can‭’‬t imagine running after her and saying hey person I never met would you like to come live with me‭? ‬Of course I‭’‬m trust worthy I just shot that guy who up until a week ago was just like you and me and now I‭’‬m covered in their blood and brains.‭ ‬Come on it'll be fine.‭ ‬It was scary how many zombies the gun shots drew to the‭ ‬neighbourhood it took me hours to get back home.‭

Journal entry five.‭ ‬Don‭’‬t go crazy

4

I finished removing the stairs today the only way to the second floor is using the ladder and I can pull that up with me.‭ ‬All the doors and windows are barricaded but I wanted to be sure that I have a backup in case they get in.‭ ‬I also have a bag packed so I can make a run for it if things get bad,‭ ‬I don‭’‬t know if things are getting better but keeping myself busy is helping take my mind off what is happening to the world.‭ ‬I have been trying to keep my mind‭ ‬occupied‭ ‬as well but there is only so much‭ ‬tic-tac toe you can play.‭ ‬The problem with being the only one playing a game is that despite always knowing what the next move will be you still end up‭ ‬losing the game.‭ ‬I tried reading but I‭ ‬don‭’‬t think the previous owners were big into books, there is only so much OK magazine you can read.‭ ‬There are hundreds of DVD‭’‬s but they are useless now, I guess I could cut them into ninja stars and throw them at zombies.‭ ‬I still can‭’‬t sleep but I have a secure base and that makes me feel better.‭



Journal entry four.‭ ‬Don‭’‬t go crazy

3

The commute to the shops is not what it used to be.‭ ‬Still at least there are no queues when you get there.‭ ‬Before all you had to worry about on the commute was a bit of traffic or the odd drunk,‭ ‬now your trip to the shops gets a little more serious.‭ ‬The good news is the zombies seem to be slowing down.‭ ‬I guess they‭’‬re running out of humans so they are conserving energy.‭ ‬But they still spring to life when the see fresh meat.‭ ‬I was hidden in an alley when two of them‭ ‬shuffled in behind me.‭ ‬The moment they saw me they started running,‭ ‬no pause, no‭ ‬surprise, no hey look there is one of those meat bags that used to be all over this city.‭ ‬There wasn‭’‬t even a split second of confusion in unison‭ ‬they went for me.‭ ‬I barely got out alive.‭ ‬Still I made it back in one piece with a backpack full of cans.‭ ‬I think I have enough food to last for a few weeks.‭

Journal entry three.‭ ‬Don‭’‬t go crazy.

2

I‭’‬m hiding in a two story house which has plenty of trees and bushes around it to keep anyone from seeing me.‭ ‬It‭’‬s not a bad spot and the previous owners must have left in a hurry as there is a little food and clothes left in the house.‭ ‬I have started barricading the doors and windows as much as possible.‭ ‬I don‭’‬t want to use a hammer and nails as I am afraid the noise will attract the Zombies.‭ ‬I don‭’‬t really know the city well but that what I get for being on holidays at the end.‭ ‬So far I have been able to run from every Zombie I‭’‬ve seen but that can‭’‬t last I am eventually going to run out of food and so I will need to start venturing out more and more.‭ ‬I thought I heard‭ ‬some people talking earlier but when went to look there was no one around.‭ ‬I think I‭’‬m better off alone anyway I always think other people only slow you down.‭ ‬I always feel if anyone is going to get me killed I would rather it was me.‭ ‬I think it would be a bad way to go knowing if only you hadn‭’‬t relied on this other person the door would have been closed properly or you would never have blindly run into dead end alley.‭ ‬I know as a rule they say humans were not meant to live alone but I guess there is an exception to every rule.‭ ‬That‭’‬s me the exception.‭ ‬I‭’‬m the person who turned up at a bus tour the day the world ended and sat in the tour office for two hours oblivious to the fact the city was tearing itself apart around me.‭ ‬And at the end of the day I am just annoyed that no one showed up who could give me a refund.

‭ Journal entry two. Don’t go crazy.

1

I had the same dream again last night the same dream I have had every night since this happened.‭ ‬I‭’‬m in a dark room with only one source of light.‭ ‬A candle in the distance but the more I move towards the light the‭ ‬further the light seems to get from me until eventually it disappears and I wake up screaming.‭ ‬Life after the end of the world is not exactly a piece of cake in general but throw in sleep deprivation and you enter a whole new world of hell.‭ ‬You spend all‭ ‬day afraid of zombies and all night afraid of your own mind,‭ ‬but that‭’‬s why I have decided to write this journal.‭ ‬Maybe if I can get some of my fears out of my head it might make this life bearable.‭ ‬And I guess after the end of the world,‭ ‬bearable is as good as it gets.

Journal entry one.‭ ‬Don‭’‬t go crazy.

Rabid Elephants 3

The effects of my Russian courage were making me feel a little wuzy and the car journey was a blur but eventually the car stopped and we got out.

"What an attractive alley way you've brought us to." I said still slightly slurring my words. "whats the plan now, move into the down stairs appartment of an old woman living across the street from the bank and spend the next few weeks trying to dig the tunnel without letting the old woman know what we are doing. I must say this is a lot longer term plan then I had realised I think mabe we should discuss this before we go ahead. I mean if we just kill the old women on day one after forcing her to write a note saying she will be out of town for few days it will be a lot easier but I'm not ready to start killing old people. Mabe we should just come back one we have a better plan?"

Steve looked around for a few seconds before telling Bob, "Shut that idiot up and lets get this job started."

Bob walks over to me puts an arm on my shoulder and says "Relax buddy. We are going in through the sewer all the heavy work is done so we just gotta blow through the back of the vault and we are home and dry. We are just going to wait for Alan get the C4, finish the job and we all go home a little richer. Ok?"

I was pretty far from ok but as I was broke, miles away from my car and in the company of two armed criminals  I thaught I had best just get through this. Steve went into the sewers and I followed. A few minutes later I heard a car pulled up, Bob and the man I presume was Alan joined us. Alan had the look of a man who was comming down from about three days of non stop partying. His clothes were wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot and half his hair was standing straight up but the other half was stuck to his skull.

"We have a problem" Bob said.

"Na its not a problem" said Alan, "We just got us a little change to the plan is all. I couldnt get the C4 so I had to make do with a little TNT. Its no bother if we use enough of it will get the job done."

"DYNAMITE, you brought fucking dynamite" screamed Steve drawing his gun and pointing it at Alan.

"No, No. Dynamite and TNT are not the same thing at all it will be fine. I just met these two birds last night and lets just say we had a little fun with the C4" said Alan who had his own gun in his hand.

"Birds." screamed Bob as he drew and pointed his gun at Alan.

"Shit" said Alan as he started to sweat. " N..Not like flying birds like girls just some girls I met. We were having some fun blowing shit up. I didnt do anything wrong."

Looking around I knew this was all going to hell and I needed to step up and sort it before things got out of hand. I drew my gun and fired one shot into the air to get everyones attention. Then I aimed my gun at Bob.

"What the hell are you aming at me for?" he said.

"Sorry" I said aiming my gun at Alan.

"What the hell are you aiming at me for?" he said. "And who the fuck are you?"

"Sorry" I said aiming my gun at Steve,"Looks like we got ourselves a mexican stand off. Mabe we...."

"Mexican." screamed Alan who was now pointing his gun at me.

"Ok" I said, "lets just calm down what we've got here is a failure to communicate. Mabe we should all take a step back and think about what we are doing."

"Think! Think? What is there to think about?" said Steve waving his gun around at random. "We are in the situation  where 3 of the 4 of us are going to die and you want us to think? What the fuck good is that? Dynamite, birds, mexican, dead, dead, dead."

"I always thaught it would be the food that got me." sobbed Alan.

"3 out of 4, THREE out of 4" said Bob who had lowered his gun, "we are still ok. I dont see any elephants in here do you? Anyone hear any reports of a zoo break? We are ok we are going to be ok."

"Ya" I said trying not to stay on the subject of my made up death, "Plus Im prety sure Alan is right."

"About the food?" said Bob.

"I used to love that food" said Alan.

"No" I said, " I dont think Dynamite and TNT are the same thing."

"I knew it" Screamed Steve with his gun pointed at me,"you, are trying to get me killed. Who is this guy Bob how do we even know that we can trust him? I mean really, rabid Elephants, rabid elephands who gets a reading like that? No one thats who. I think its bullshit. How do we know he is even who he says he is? "

"He ... Ah ... he was recomended by a friend. I ... ah think he is ok." said Bob who sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"So we dont even know," said Steve walking towards me, "if he is telling the truth. I say I shoot him right now and we grab the next mook walking along the street to replce him."

"No, no," said Bob who had put his gun away., " I have a machine in the car we test him rabid elephants comes out and we all get back to work. Agreed?"

"Agreed." said Alan who still had his gun in his hand but who was now sitting on the ground.

"Ok," said Steve who still had his gun pointing at me, "but I'm going to keep my gun ready cos I think there is more change of the word Steve coming out of that machine then there is rabid elephants. And when I see the word Steve Im going to make the reading come true"

Bob dissapeared the way we had come in and I knew I was in trouble. I had to get out of here before the machine showed me up for the liar I was. I looked around the room hoping that some how I would see something that I could use to save myself. Alan was still sitting on the ground and seemed to be using his gun to draw pictures of mexican food in the dirt. He was also mumbling something that souned like "one enchlada might ok, as long as its just one." That wasnt any help so I looked at Steve who was standing 5 feet from me poining  his gun in my face.

"So you come here often?"I asked trying to lighten the mood. He didnt say anything but his face seemed to get a little reder. "I've got a crem for that" I said.

"Are you calling me ugly?" groweled Steve. "Are you saying you have a cream that will fix my face is that what you're saying?"

"Ah no" I said lookin around and thinking I was making things worse but now that I started I didnt see any way to back out. "You are ugly but I was just talking about your face being red. I dont think there is a cream to help with ugly."

"You have some problems boy but luckly we are about to solve them" as Steve said this he looked up and Bob entered the room hold one of the machines.

"I always keep one with me" said Bob smiling,"you never know when it might come in handy."

"Really Bob" I said getting angry and realising I was running out of time, " why would it come in handy? Why would you need to have a hand held machine which predicts your death? Why cant we just live our lives and let what happens happen. It worked for thousands of years why now do we constantly need a machine. Why would you keep that thing with you."

"Well for situations like this" he said as he finished setting up the machine.

Shit I thaught he has a point and also I was running out of time.  What if I just run if I jump up and just start running, surly I would at least have a chance? I was still thinking this when Bob said, " All done just pop your finger in there we will clear all this up and we can get back to what we came here for."

Not knowing what else to do I put my finger into the machine. I could feel it pinch my finger, as the machine started to work within a couple of seconds I heard a ping and knew the machine was done. As the printer started up I thaught fuck it. Both Steve and Bob were looking at the machine so I pointed my gun point blank at Steve and pulled the trigger. At this close a range Steves head exploded sending blood brains and bits of skull in all directions. Bob jumped backwards and I swong my gun to point at Alan. He had is gun pointed at me pulled the trigger and the gun backfired probally from all the dirt he had caking the muzzel. I fired twice at his chest and swung back to Bob. As I did this I heard the sound of a gun firing and what felt like a sledgehammer hit me in the chest and I dropped to my knees. Bob had turned and was trying to make a run for it I brought up my gun and fired hitting him in the back. He dropped without a sound. As I started coughing blood I knew I wasnt going to make it. I looked at the 3 men I'd shot and none of them were moving.

"This is your fault" I said looking at the machine. As I brought my gun up to at least stop this machine from ruining anyone elses life I saw the read out which in black capitals read 'RABID ELEPHANTS'.

Shit I thaught if only I had known.

v=XiFrfeJ8dKM">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XiFrfeJ8dKM

Rabid Elephants II

I watch my contacts facial expression change from shock to disgust as he drinks his first mouthful of beer. For a moment it looks like he is going to spit it out but he manages to swallow and then pushing the glass a little further from himself, he turns to me.
“So, how’s your end going to come?”
This is it, the question which has replaced nice to meet you or how are you. One of the many questions in this world of paranoia and fear which I hate to hear. I will answer that I don’t know, he will call me crazy for not finding out, start shouting that it could happen at any minute and say that he doesn’t want to hang around to find out. But I need this job so I think back to something the barman said earlier turn to him and say.
“Rabid Elephants. How about you?”
“Shit, what’s the chance of meeting a rabid elephant. Still I’d stay away from the peanuts if I was you. Mine is ‘Birds’. Can you believe that shit, at any time a fuckin blue tit could fly into my eye and that’s it game over. I’m Bob by the way John said you were alright but the real test was how you were going to die. Looks like you’re in.”
John was the mutual friend who had set up this meeting, he was a good guy but spent a bit too much time hanging around with the wrong people. He had shown me a picture of my contact and given me the name of the bar in which I was now sitting.
“What do you mean ‘the real test was how you were going to die’?” I ask relieved that it seem like I had the job but not sure why.
“Well your part of the job is mainly lookout which means almost anyone can do it but we want to make sure the way you died is not some thing which is too closely linked to someone else’s or with the job. Like if you had said ‘shiny objects’ then me and you could have been killed by magpies. Or because some of the job is under ground if you had said ‘cave in’ there’s no way you were coming.”
“Ok so what’s the job?” I ask, feeling a little guilty that for all I know ‘talking to Bob’ is how it will end for me.
“You’ll be filled in later. Here is the address, be there at 12 midnight tomorrow and make sure your on time.”
“Relax,” I say “I’m never late.”

12.15, I arrive at the address given to me. I had stopped at a bar on the way over for some Dutch courage but unfortunately they only served Russian courage. So 8 vodka’s later I was a little unsteady on my feet but ready for what ever job I was about to get. I had heard an odd story while drinking my vodka apparently the owner of the bar I was in yesterday had died in a fire.
‘Well,’ I thought, ‘I guess the machine is not always right. And I guess my new friend Bob can stop worrying that some day he will be walking down a dark alley when big bird and his mates will appear and beat him to death.’
I walk through the open door of the abandoned building and immediately saw Bob standing beside a table in the middle of the room. He was looking into the corner rafters of the warehouse. No doubt searching for the birds which would one day be the death of him.
“Your late!” he said without taking his eyes off the rafters.
“Traffic” I said.
I noticed a second man who had entered the building from another door.
“What traffic?” said the second man, “The reason we picked this place was to be as far from other people as possible.”
“Ya well I expected there would be traffic and over compensated.”
The second man just stood there staring at me.
“R-I-G-H-T. Anyway I’m here now so let’s get this over with.” I said a little unnerved by the fact that a complete stranger was standing in front of me staring at me without saying anything.
“Bob, what the fuck is this? What were you thinking bringing this jack ass in on this job?” said the second man to Bob.
“Rabid Elephants, Steve, Rabid elephants. He is just another insurance policy.” Said Bob turning his attention from the corner and on to me for the first time.
“I’d rather act like a jack ass than look like one Steve.” I said looking at the man who Bob had referred to as Steve.
Steve ignored this and turned back to Bob.
“How many of these clowns do we need? Isn’t Alan enough? Do I really need to put up with this shit too?”
“When you’re doing a bank job and the way you die is ‘dynamite’ you need all the help you can get.” Said Bob who picked something up from the table and walked towards me.
“So…. We’re doing a bank job then?” I asked still feeling the effects of the vodka.
“‘WE,’ aren’t doing shit. Bob and I are doing a bank Job you and that other shit are just watching. Where the hell is he anyway.”
“He’ll meet us there with the plastic explosive, don’t worry.” Said Bob who was now standing in front of me.
"Did you hear that bar man from last night died in a fire?"
"Ya" I said "I guess the machine can get it wrong sometimes."
"What are you talking about he was pissed off his skull and fell asleep with a lit cigarette in his hand. Its amazing how that idiot stayed alive as long as he did. Imagine owning a bar when alcohol was how you die. Here.” He said handing me a hand gun.
“I thought I was on look out?” I said checking if the gun was real.
“You are” Bob said with a smile on his face, “and if you see anyone while you are looking out, shoot them in the head. Now get in the car we are ready to go.”
“As long as he doesn’t shoot himself in the foot first.” Said Steve as he got into the drivers seat.

Cast Away

They have forgotten more than you know.

On Saturdays I take pieces of furniture from the house and place them in the fire. Chairs, coffee tables and picture frames. It’s hard to describe the pleasure I feel seeing them change shape and shrivel in the flames. It’s like a cold wind blowing through my soul. I’ve discovered that different materials produce different colored flames. Sometimes, I pour white spirits on the furniture as it burns, to increase the effect. Sometimes a small slow burn feels better.

Recently, the latisimuss dorsal muscles of my back have offended me. They seem to have forgotten their training. It is my opinion that my lats may have forgotten more than a man will know in his entire lifetime. I have placed my lats under investigation. My lats are the subject of an internal tribunal chaired by clever lats.The tribunal will come to a unanimous and overwhelming verdict. The muscles of my mid back will be found guilty of high treason. My lats shall be banished into exile and replaced through the miracle of lat transplant surgery.

I once had a dream that I was Tom Hank’s bicep muscles in the film Cast Away. At the start of the film I am neglected, ignored and overweight. After the plane crash, as Tom learns to survive through a number of trails and tribulations, I too wrestle with my demons, becoming stronger and more focused, ultimately making fire to burn the parts of my psyche I no longer need. Of all the bicep muscles that have appeared in Hollywood movies down through the years none have spoken to me with such honesty and dignity. They tell me things I never knew about myself. They show me how to forget myself. They show me how to remember what counts…………

How can you ask me now to surrender my spear and return to the world ……… you who have taught me how to kill for survival, how to hunt another living creature, how to defecate out of doorways!

The latisimuss dorsal muscles of the mid back have little or no memory of an empty house that was once inhabited by real people. No recollection of a bust up refrigerator resembling a Dadaist installation. They cannot recall that the refrigerator door has been ripped off its hinges and inserted in the wall space behind. They may choose to forget that the sides of the refrigerator have sustained a number of heavy blows from a blunt object. They may ask if a clear attempt has really been made to light a fire inside……… even though they were there.

I find it peculiar to think that Hanks had to resort to talking to a volley ball head instead of conversing with the living, intelligent muscles of his own body. Surely the pectoral muscles of the chest and the tricep and bicep muscles of the arm make the best companions. It could be argued that existence itself is nothing more than a continuous conversation between the brain and these muscle groups, the muscles effectively becoming an extension of our own personality and mental make up. The triceps, biceps and pecks have replaced the eyes as the real windows of the soul.

I believe my ex lats are living in the attic. I believe this because I can hear them watching Dr Phil on the old 15 inch television I put up there in a box last spring. There is no tv remote which means channels must be changed manually.
From a window in the attic, the lats look down on the roofs of the adjoining buildings. The sun is reflecting off roof tiles and aerial steel.

As they work the biceps try to compare things which are by their nature incomparable. The authorities warn against comparing things directly. The biceps recall a conversation they have heard or a piece of furniture they’ve seen or some idea that occurred to them sitting on the toilet at three in the morning.

The biceps don't watch TV in the traditional sense. It’s just another piece of furniture, another tool, muted sound and marginal awareness of moving pictures in the time between sets of preacher curls and press ups. The biceps are active, moving and alert. If they sit still they’ll fall into a deep sleep from which they’ll never punch their way out. They would forget what we have become together.

Forget what is unimportant

She had a small birth mark on her neck, beneath her left ear. We sat on a black leather couch watching wildlife documentaries and ultimate fighter. Her fingers were small and stumpy and she smelled like cigarettes .I tolerated her weaknesses. I tolerated her strengths. I was relieved when she left. Although I felt released, I wonder now what color flame she could have made in my fire.


In the evenings I rearrange at random the insides of my desktop computer. I don’t miss the internet. I usually just ended up on Amazon, looking up albums I will never buy. I liked reading the reviews that customers had written for the albums. I preferred reading the reviews than listening to the 30 second song samples. I preferred to hear about what the songs meant to total strangers than finding out if they could mean anything to me. Sometimes the reviewers told a story or anecdote about when they first heard a particular song or album. I liked those stories.

Live now, live at all costs

When your airplane crashes in the ocean it changes you mentally. Sometimes you die, other times you live, but no one survives the crash. No one’s mind escapes intact whether it’s a physical or mental crash. The smell of death stays with you. You wash your underwear but the smell is under your skin, in your brain.

In reality, there’s no way Hanks would have sought out his wife after he got off that island. He would have blanked her. He would have spat in her face. He would have gone home and gathered together his furniture. He would have made a fire.

"Out of Africa"

Rabid Elephants

I take a mouth full of beer and decide against doing that again, it tastes like what I always imagined battery acid tastes like. And from the feeling in my stomach it was having a similar effect. As my eyes scan the room I think, ‘This is it, I always knew I would reach rock bottom some day and that day has finally arrived’. I was sitting in the worst shit hole bar in the worst part of town waiting for a guy I barely knew to give me a job. It wasn’t just my life that was falling apart, things were getting worse by the day for everyone. Paranoia was at an all time high, suicide and murder were everyday occurrences. Very little surprised anyone any more and it doesn’t look like getting better any time soon.

When I walked into the bar earlier, a body was being carried out.
‘Trouble?’ I asked the bar man who was cleaning a pint glass.
“Guy offered Jonny a peanut, Jonny freaked out, Jonny knifed the guy.” Said the bar man without even looking at me.
“Harsh” I said, “I know some people are allergic but that’s going a bit far aint it?”
“Huh!” grunted the bar man “Jonny hates peanuts cos elephants like peanuts. Jonny hates elephants cos that damn machine told Jonny his death would be cause by elephants. Now Jonny is going to the electric chair cos Jonny stabbed a guy who had peanuts which Jonny thought would attract Elephants.” The barman paused to pick up another glass. “Jonny was an idiot everyone knows that the only was to beat the machine is to surround yourself with what ever it says. Take me for instance 10 years ago I got a slip of paper that said ‘alcohol’. I walked straight out and bought this bar, haven’t been sick a day since. Machine don’t know how to handle it if you do that. Once Jonny saw elephant on that bit of paper he should have moved into a zoo. Sure one day a rabid elephant might maul him but I doubt it.”
“Ah…. Ya, makes sense I guess,” I said a little confused by the logic or lack there of, “So how’s the beer?” I asked in an effort to change the subject.
The bar man looked at me for the first time, smiled and said, “Best in Town.”

Back in the present I still couldn’t get over how many times the bar man had said ‘Jonny’. Man that was annoying, still not as annoying as that damn machine. It was about 20 year ago when it first appeared. For the super rich back then but soon the cheaper models started to appear everywhere. ‘Find out the answer to the only question you’ll ever need to ask,’ they said. What was that even supposed to mean, ‘Your born, life sucks and then you die’ that’s my motto. It’s simple, but people being people can’t leave well enough alone. No one is happy with A to B to C. No they have to meddle, You’re born, life sucks, you get a vague prediction of how you’ll die, you spend years being manically paranoid and depressed and then you die horribly. Ha, so this is where thousands of years of human evolution have got us. I think we would have been happier running away from some prehistoric monster at least then we would have something real to fear. Now we have only our minds to fear. Not me though, no machine was going to mess my life up. I was doing a good enough job of that on my own.

At that moment the door opens and my contact walks in. A skinny man with pale skin and dark eyes. He had the look of a tortured soul about him, he kept giving darting looks over his shoulders and had a twitch under his left eye.
“How’s the beer?” he asked.
“Best in town.” I say with a smile.

The Art of Eating Toast

“The phrase "You're Toast" is often used to refer to those who are about to suffer brutal damage at the hands of the speaker.” Wikipedia

Press play.

The interior of the café is not unpleasant. The smell is not revolting. The pale blue walls and general underwater ambience are enough, however; to impress upon the enterer the feeling he’s stepped inside a fish tank. Tables and chairs are old and worn, perhaps salvaged from the hulk of a sunken ship, lost at some ragged spot upon a rocky coast, in the deep dark woods, of the soul. Somewhere behind an iron door, a radio is playing rag time classics.

Behind a door, it is playing.

Indeed, one chair in particular may catch the eye of the hapless seeker of a hearty breakfast. Painted a fire engine red and adorned with the purple face of Barney the Dinosaur, it appears quite out of place among the rest of the faded grey furniture. There is something strangely comfortable looking about it; perhaps the only chair in the room with some form of cushioning material. And it is upon this very red chair, above all else, that the dweller on the threshold desires to rest his weary legs. Therefore you lead your sleepy companion to a corner of the room and sit yourself down upon your very red chair, satisfied with your choice of seating and the fact that your companion has to sit on a much less comfortable and interestingly coloured, grey chair. Menu now in hand, there can no doubting the special appeal for the hungry and hung-over traveller, of the adequate and reasonably priced mini grill.

Travellers between late night and early morning are we, upon this stage of life.

But it’s only after the moustachioed waiter has taken your order, complemented you on your excellent choice of seating and disappeared behind the iron door that strange questions begin to arise in your mind’s inner mind, like:

What’s behind the iron door?
Does the mini grill come with toast?
Did that old guy get toast with his?
Did he get the more expensive mixed grill?
Is my companion getting up to go for a number one or a number two?

In this life there are only questions. Does one really enjoy a toilet activity or is it more a feeling of relief? Is enjoyment and relief the same thing?
You make ask who they are, this greasy waiter bringing out two plates of grilled rot, that old prick with his basket of toast and more luxurious mixed grill, your strange companion who hasn’t said a word since entering the café. Do they enjoy all this business? You want nothing but a small basket of toast.
“Can I get some toast with that?” You demand desperately above a plate of grilled junk.

People move in and out. A child enters in its young fathers arms, crying and pointing in your direction. Your companion returns and hands you a phone he found in the hallway.

The human eye usually takes a number of split seconds to focus on a digital image. The focus time however is unique to each pair of eyes. The average time it takes between looking at an image and our brain making sense of what we are seeing is usually about 0.02 seconds. However, after a time you will comprehend the image on the phone is a photo of a purple dinosaur attacking a clearly distressed man, who is sitting on a very red chair, at a grey table, in a small café.

The inside of the café however, is not unpleasant.

In fact you are so astonished by the image that you are quite unaware of the purple dinosaur that has entered the room from behind the iron door and has come to stand at your side holding a basket of toast and an electric carving knife, until he screams in a shrill feminine voice:

“You’re toast, fucker!” and proceeds to carve you open.

Behind the iron door time slows down. Chairs have been placed at tables, floors have been swept. The moment has come and the sound of nervous shuffling echoes through the great halls. A thousand dinosaur eyes roll and stare and blink in the darkness.

Breakfast is served.

Day Seven. Part 1

Day seven. I was late to work again today but who cares. Seven days no clients maybe I needed to do a bit more advertising. I don’t know though if telling all five people I know about my new business doesn’t work then what would? Still I decided to place an ad in the local paper, mainly because it was cheap.
I call the number and spoke to a young woman who took my details and tells me the ad will appear in tomorrow’s edition.
“Nothing to do now but sit back and wait for the work to roll in.” I say to no one in particular.
Just as I put my feet up on the desk to relax the phone rings.
“OH YA” I scream jumping to my feet. But wait I think the ad is not out until tomorrow.
“Hello.” I say once I have picked up the phone.
“Hello this is Mary from the newspaper office. I was wondering what type of work you do?”
“Oh the usual. Ah…..” to be honest I didn’t really know what I did as I hadn’t gotten any jobs yet, “Body guard, finding missing people ah….. Being an all around legend ….. Basically what ever I will get paid for.”
“Oh good, be at 10 waldon street at 8 tonight and come alone.” She says and hangs up.
‘Interesting’ I think, ‘finally a case to get my teeth into’.
8.30 I arrive at 10 waldon street and I see the woman standing in a door way wearing a tight black dress. ‘This could be a very sexy first job.’ I think. She has a dog on a leash beside her. ‘Not really into that,’ I think, ‘but let’s see where this goes.’
“You’re late.” She says glaring at me.
“I doubt it.” I say, “So what’s the job?”
She looks me up and down for a minute and then says, “I’m going to la Rome for dinner and I want you…..”
I interrupt her before I she can finish “I’m afraid you are going to have to go some where else. Unfortunately last time I was in la Rome there was some unpleasantness and let’s just say I am no longer welcome there.”
“Yes well luckily for everyone you are not coming with me. I need you……”
“Lady,” I say interrupting her again, “why would you call me out here not to go anywhere with you. I mean it’s your buck. I charge the same for doing nothing as I do for ah…doing.”
“Well don’t worry you will be ‘doing’ as you put it. I called you here to look after fufu.” She says.
“Lady, I don’t know what the hell that is but if it’s illegal I charge double.”
“Fufu is my dog. La Rome has the best food in town but they don’t allow dogs, even dogs as sophisticated as fufu into the restaurant. My usual minder cancelled at the last moment so I am going to pay you to stand here and mind fufu while I eat my meal.”
“No bother lady,” I say taking the dogs lead. “cujo is safe with me.”
“FUFU, is a champion poodle and worth more than your life. Please don’t move from this spot.” She turns and walks into the restaurant.
I look down at the animal who is wearing a rather flashy blue cardigan and say, “Come on Cujo lets go for a walk.”