Literatura

Junk

He took a deep breath and filled his lungs with the smell of salt water as he slowly cut through the calm river. The water was a beautiful jade-colour that produced a whitish froth behind him. Moving his arm with the rudder in hand, he gently shifted his weight to avoid the many boats and aimed himself in the direction of an open space. Without a word the wrinkled faced man signaled a boy on board to hook up to the wooden dock. The boy threw a loop, on the end of some thick rope, over the top of a pile which helped support the dock. Wood creaked as the slack was tightened on the rope.

_______ Three departed from the old and worn boat leaving one behind. The three, one in front and two following, made their way weaving through the crowded docks to the shore. Taking care not to slip on the cobblestones, they walked up to street level. The two looked back and waved, what would be their last good-bye, to a woman making the same gesture back from where they had just come. The one in front, the leader, glanced back with a scowl that told them to hurry up. Obediently at his heals they held to the pants which were supported with a piece of rope.

_______ Lead through the crowd by the taller and older one, not a thing could be seen but bodies hurrying in all directions. The pace slowed as their destination was almost passed by. The man detached the hands from his trousers so the belt could rest comfortably again on his hips. Smells filled the air from all different walks of life that gathered here. Incense, animals, sweat, food,...everything, all mixed in the air. Excitement was in the stomachs of the two who were now holding each other's hands playfully.

_______ A chime rang with a clutter of musical notes as the three entered a door along side many that went on till the eye couldn't see any farther. As pupils widened to the dim light, a small store of various items came into view. The man was greeted by another, with a bow of the head, and motioned to approach the counter. As the men talked, the two little ones quickly lost interest and ventured to explore their surroundings. Giggling at their discoveries, the little ones kept a watchful eye on the men. The conversation had become less friendly and more businesslike. It was easy to see that their leader was bargaining, almost pleading with the man behind the counter. The little ones approached just as the men came to an agreement.

_______ Without guidance the gigglers, now quiet, followed the two men outside instinctively into the heat of the day. Their footsteps were retraced through the crowds and back along the docks to where the boy had thrown a loop of rope. Their leader was horrified and upset. The new man threw his hands up in the air with disgust and grumpily stormed away. The man they knew was still with them, but now he looked more like a priest rather than a leader. On his knees he leaned back with tears trickling down his crow's-feet looking to the sky. The little ones followed the loop of rope with their eyes down into the murky water. The faint outline of their boat could be seen hanging on the opposite end. Their reflection painted a picture of two children with pale, blank, confused expressions. The man, joining the embracing children who tried to console him, now seemed to have pushed his emotions back and gained composure. With a flip of his knife he cut the loop of rope that slithered around the pole and into the water.

Copyright (C) 1991 S. J. Dalgleish

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We have an electric typewriter. I decided to practice typing on it one day, before we had a computer, and I typed this story as I went along. I just typed whatever came to mind and this is the result (minus my typing and spelling errors) :

Have you ever stared at something till it seemed to move? Not in the sense from point A to point B; but in the sense of an object moving when looking at it through a warped sheet of glass or a heat wave off the land. Well, I have. Only I've taken it one step further.

_______ When I was working my way through university, and I mean working my ass off, I had a very strange physics/theory professor in my third year. I say "physics/theory", but it could have been "/" anything for he dabbled in many subjects. It was his motto of sorts not to close yourself in just on one career (thing) in life, but to thrive on many. It seems it would be impossible for him to reach all the subjects he wanted to at once so he just stuck to physics. I took his words to heart and got stuck without a definite career. Sure I had a few in mind but nothing I was really considering. The fact was that with school and my job I didn't have enough time to go exploring in the fields as other students are doing because they have family (usually wealthy family) support. Maybe I should have gone for scholarships in high school. But I didn't. "What?", you say. It was either have a life then or now and then seemed to be the place.

_______ Walking down the hall to class I bumped into, literally, Prof. Reyklin. He talked (conned) me into meeting him after next class to discuss something that he didn't have tome to tell me about there in the hallway. So after being unshackled and dismissed I headed down to meet with the Prof.

_______ "Hey sexy! Wait up." That was me alright so I turned around and waited for my gal friend ??????? to catch up. Just call me woody. That's one damn fine girl. We did some small talk but wanting to keep on good terms with the Prof. I told her we'd get together later. Well you see I'm kind of the teachers pet. At least I like to think so sometimes. When I came in to Prof. Reyklin's office he had all the lights out except for the green shaded desk lamp where he was in some deep thought of some sort. No wonder the guy has such thick glasses. He refused to acknowledge my presence till I was standing there for a good minute.

_______ "YO! WAKE UP MAN!" Yeah as if I said that. Then he stared up at me with these magnified eyes that said, "Who the hell are you and why are you transparent?" or something like that. I started to ask, "Professor Re-" "Oh. Good. You're here," he said. So I thought, 'This is the start of a very long and boring discussion about...' "So you seem very interested in my class," he said in a flat tone. Get to the damn point- "Yes I am sir."

_______ "Well then you I'm sure you wouldn't mind putting in a little after school time."

_______ "I'm sure I could fit it in some how. Sir." That bastard! He knew I was piled up with work, but he still said it. That's a sure sign of a man on a suicide mission. I began to think of what it would be like to laden his food with tapeworm larva. How painful that could be if he ignored the pain as an old age problem till it built up inside him so much that...

_______ "So what do you think?"

_______ "Huh..., about what?"

_______ "About working on the project with me of course. Weren't you listening?"

_______ "Yeah, sure I was. I...just didn't get the last part."

_______ "I understand. It's quite a hard concept to grasp at first, but I will explain in more detail later. The key point I was trying to make is that I'm willing to pay for your schooling. In exchange I expect a great deal of effort on your part. That way you could quit the evening job at the factory."

_______ "You will!" I said trying to hide my utter astonishment.

_______ "Do you work at the food irradiation or processing plant?"

_______ "The food processing one I think."

_______ "Yes when science entered the food industry it was a sad, sad day, indeed. Well you can forget about that travesty now. That is, if you will accept. I know it won't be as much money as your job produces, but it will be very close and very good for the amount of time put in."

_______ "Yes. I mean, yes I'll accept."

_______ "Excellent. So I will be expecting you at my house tomorrow night around seven. Alright?"

_______ "Sure." I said and walked home feeling quite content.

****

_______ 'What the hell have you done; you dumb ass?!' I thought to myself. I don't even know what the hell he was talking about for gods' sake! As I was walking down the hall to my next class, which I was late for, my mind was reeling with ideas of what I've gotten myself into: What kind of project? I'll bet it involves pain of some sort. If not pain on me probably some other poor creature. Aaaaaagh! Feeling very worked up about the whole thing I sat through classes in a day-dream state, which will probably screw up my future studying habits or something. So trying to look on the bright side of things I decided it turn out to be something not too pass up. But this anxiety followed me around all the rest of the day and the next.

_______ I took the night off work. Didn't give notice yet just in case I decided to back out of this so called project. Without transportation I'm used to walking in wet feet, but today it seemed to bother me quite a bit. The dampness seemed to be creeping up my body till I felt very uncomfortable standing in front of the Prof.'s old house. Funny that there were no lights on Does this guy live in the dark. Maybe the mole wasn't home. So I rang the door bell before I could think of some good reasons to leave. I didn't hear a thing. Not a sound came from the house except for the wind in the cracks of the old shutters and the tired wheezing of the door buzzer which didn't stop after I released the button. I could imagine that big door creaking open letting out a bad smell that was forty percent humidity. I turned to the street looking at the blurred reflection of the lights on the wet road. Something slapped on my shoulder and spun me around sending me tumbling down the flight of stairs to land with a melon like thud on the walkway. Disorientated I saw a figure looming over me and felt a deathly presence consuming my thoughts. I forced myself, straining madly, to get to my feet and focus. Coming into view I , some what relieved, saw Prof. Reyklin.

_______ "You all right?" he asked.

_______ "Yeah."

_______ "I wish I had time to tend to the bruises and sores, but I don't. So if your not alright say so."

_______ "Naw, I'm alright."

_______ "Good. Let's go."

_______ Almost dragging my body back up the stairs he took me into his home. I never really thought what it would really look like, but maybe a quiet plainly furnished place with not much color. Well it was quaint to say the most. We darted through the living room and to a locked door by the kitchen. Pausing to let himself open the door with keys I grappled in the air to find some support because the room started spinning from my throbbing head. I found my legs did a fine job at holding me up. The door now flung open, I followed the professor down a flight of winding stairs, spiral stair cases aren't in structures this old. Stumbling on the last step because I expected more steps to continue downward, but I couldn't see the floor for all the lights were out down here too. Freak'n mole. Then just as I was thinking that a soft bluish light sprung into as it warmed up.

_______ Yup, this was more like it. The basement was full of scientific equipment from telescopes to Bunsen burners. Things of unexplainable complexity lined the walls. Strangely none of it looked new, but all of his things looked old and well used.

_______ "I hope I didn't hurt you out there" he said. "There's a tendency in my gene that insists that I do clumsy things around other people."

_______ '-and with all those mixed up experiments in class' I thought. Not wanting him to know that I had no Idea about what I was doing here I just let him do all the talking.

_______ "Take off your coat and stay awhile. We have lots to do."

_______ Lots! Lots of what? Lots of shit. That's what my mind was dreaming up. Disgusting fetal operations or examinations of the brain. I can plainly see pickled specimens of sorts stored in mayo jars on top of his shelf of books. Books books books. Even his books were old. Come to think of it...his clothes were styled in the early nineteen hundreds.

_______ "So...where do we start Mr. Reyklin?" Jeez we should start clean'n up.

_______ "Right. We'll start by cleaning a spot on my bench." he said as if he was think'n the same thing I was. I proceeded to move various objects from the long sturdy bench to another parallel which was also piled with trinkets. After clearing and wiping clean an area of suitable size he asked me to take a seat in the chair and I was left alone. The Prof. was more hard assed than I thought for the chair of his had an uncomfortable solidness to it. Oak I think. Maybe stone disguised as wood. But still the most important thing here was what did I have to do with the Prof.'s plans? No sooner than this thought popped into my head than he entered the room again holding electrical equipment of some sort. Quickly plugging a large coil of colored wire into his home computer at his study desk he made his way towards me letting it trail out behind him.

_______ "OK, now put this on for me."

_______ "On where?" I asked. It looked like some medieval device I've now seen in movies like Brain Eaters and Alien Brain Eaters and-

_______ "Go on now. It wont bite."

_______ Won't bite? I felt as safe putting this on as I felt petting a rabid dog's tongue. As the story goes I did indeed put it on and to my dismay the contraption was most annoyingly lopsided and uncomfortable.

_______ "One second while I set things up." Over at his computer he turned on the green screen and continued to type for a damn twenty minutes.

_______ Now I'm sitting here wondering when there's going to be an electrical surge coming rushing through those wires and into my skull. The Prof.'s face looked tormented as he typed two fingered as fast as he could. I almost felt sorry for the guy. Having to learn to type after all these years writing everything down on paper. With a quill pen for half of those years I'll bet. Damn ball-points.

_______ "Finished. Sorry I took so long. I wanted everything perfect," he said.

_______ "That's alright." I'm getting paid.

to be continued... someday

Copyright (C) 1992 (Jan. 26) S. J. Dalgleish

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Train of Thought

_______ My rolling train of thought thundered along the tracks of despair through a dark tunnel of seemingly no end; head hanging out the window of the second car just in the bottom end of billowing smoke held down close to earth by the near edge of darkness -or is it the beginning?
_______ Constantly pelted with sediment cast-out by the oil burners barely able to keep my eyes open; smoke coating my face in an ever thickening mask trying, straining myself, in apparent vain, to catch a glimpse of a dot of light far down the track that will hopefully become, one day, an end to the present nothingness surrounding my small piece of the world in which the start and end seem so close.
_______ I pulled my head in with the sound of someone passing between cars. They glanced at me from behind their upturned coat collar then into the next door they went; silhouetted by the orangish haze of illuminated smoky air as they turned to close the door behind themselves. I stared at the window upon that door unfocused in sight; pondering in mind: I don't remember any person passing before... -mustn't have noticed is all -the roar of the engine and wind in my ears... -but what a strange sight they must have seen with my most likely charcoaled face, I reached up and stroked my cheek with my forefinger and rolled the soot between it and my thumb , and the whites of my eyes for contrast -they must have jumped on the inside yet, no visible reaction. Turning back, a sigh escaping my lips convince me that I'd had enough of standing out in the cold air. Opening one of the car doors I squinted with the harsh interior light momentarily filling my little space of darkness as I left it behind.
_______ Rows of small tables each with two chairs coupling lined both outer sides of the car split by larger tables with double the chairs taking-up the middle. I opted for a shady corner closest by, not wanting to totally reveal myself to the light. I sat looking out the window through the shadows in my own reflection.
_______ I thought of nothing at first, then thoughts of how things were, how they could have been. Before I could connect any emotions with these images I disassociated myself by turning and opening up my world to the length of the car. Each table with a window, each occupied table adorned with a candle and a reflection of itself flanked by soft-looking royal-red curtains. Between the windows, red-stained glass encased single flames in iron holdings hung on the walls. A somber red permeated everything. I turned back to the window to more closely examine the hanging fabric rubbing it between my thumb and forefinger. Everything seemed to have a redness forced upon it. Someone stood at my table side. Their reflection gave them away, but I failed to note their approach. I turned to a young uniformed woman with a rectangular open box slung around her neck. I opened my mouth to decline any cigarette purchase, but I stopped as I saw her remove and set a candle on my table and proceed to light it with a quaint smile. I gave a quick smile back before she turned and missed it. The candle sat where a plate normally would at dinner. I looked at the glass vase it was nestled in. Red stained glass and an iron base. I exhaled through my nose flickering the flame, put my elbow on the table, and tilted my head to rest my temple on my right fist. I starred out the window in an attempt to daydream, but my own reflection distracted me. I slid closer to the pane, and the candle away from it, to place myself between. I thought of another table which also adorned a candle. Plus four elbows, two of which were mine.
_______ A restaurant table with a white patterned cloth. How well I remember every detail. From the elbows up, our arms became closer together meeting with holding hands and faces looking across them. Everything seemed to be a bright summer-sun yellow then. The meal had come and gone without me hardly noticing I had eaten, so enthralled with my companion such as I was. The glimmer in her eyes, the gleam of her smile, ...every movement she made sent a wonderousness through my body. My heart sailed a calm ocean in rapture...
_______ Grabbing my shirt in front of my lower ribcage in a fist I felt a deep pain. A pain I can only describe as the body's longing for a missing organ. But that description must pale in comparison. It spreads out as ripples in water do. I have never felt something so hard to describe as this even though it is not new to me. My soul is wanting. Pure joy replaced by nothingness. Pure joy taken without anything capable of replacing it or filling the void. I almost nudged the candle down to the floor with my elbow. I replaced it in front of me and looked up to see a uniformed man standing before me.
_______ "Water please."
_______ He smiled and nodded his head and headed off in my facing direction.

More to come... someday.

Copyright (C) 1996 (Dec. 28) S. J. Dalgleish

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All of the stories on this page I just made-up as I went along, including this one.
[Note: For character descriprions, click here.]

ACT 1:

INTERIOR: PLANET ZERPNUM - LAND OF CUPPLING - NIGHT-D:23456/ M:QUAZUPNUP/ Y:86756443

Scene 777: Opening on screen text narrated by a flash-news-bulletin-radio-announcer- from-the-1930's-40's styled voice and Dork as himself: 'Dork, after having a near miss with the planet's moon that orbits once every second, he crash landed in to the anus of an Erksnub, what he has nick-named "Demon Bulls From A Stinking Hell Of Giant People That Always get In The Way".' In English as he is from Germany,

DORK STERGLY

(in a deep and booming manly voice)

"Whoa there, big fella!"

The Erksnub bucks wildly then spins around trying to snatch at his ass. Meanwhile Dork has stealthily climbed through the giant coarse hair along its back. The Erksnub calms down and lets out a snort, pondering what to do. He, the Erksnub, looks down under his body to see only its tail hanging down. So, squats a little so as to see the rocketship just past his giant balls protruding from his anus. He lifts his head back up thinking, then scratches behind his ear with his right hind leg (we see Dork making his way passed the middle of the head nearby). However its scratching is interrupted with a yelp and snort as the rocketship touches the ground. He prances around in a circle like a show-horse, rocket bouncing up and down, trying to get up the courage to do something and stops back near where he started. He inhales largely and holds it with a reddening grimace on his face: he's in the shit-squat position clenching its butt-cheek muscles trying to force it out. He continues to push. He stops and with a quick exhale and inhale for another attempt, but is soon cut short. He looks around bewildered as we see Dork's leg slip inside the Erksnub's giant nose. The Erksnub becomes angry at this intrusion, but that quickly subsides to frantic snorting trying to get Dork out. Suddenly he becomes quite passive and sleepy looking. Silhouetted against the nose-skin, with the help of Dork's trusty light we see Dork. Inside, he is massaging the mucus membranes with his hands in large back and forth strokes reminiscent of floor scrubbing that Dork is often assigned to back home. Back outside, the Erksnub is on the ground, asleep. Dork slips back out and heads back towards the rear of the animal. Mucus flies off his movements as he quietly prances, leaping and swinging his arms like a ballet dancer with toes pointed downward.

DORK STERGLY

(puzzelingly pondering stroking his chin)

"Hmmm..."

He puts his hands on his hips for a second then approaches the contact area. The barbed nose of the cone-shaped rocketship is snugly lodged to the hilt. Examining it he gives the pink part surrounding the anus a firm couple pats with his left hand as he would Astro Dog's head (he's back home sick for this mission) then prances back around to the rocket door and reenters. Inside we see him fiddle with his overly simplistic controls. Outside, we see the rocket thrusters turnabout to face front. We hear the screaming power-up of the engines and then thrusters blast flames onto the Erksnub's ass. We see the Erksnub's face as it instantly awakens in surprise, then it's up and running around and bucking up and down with a great roar of pain and flames momentarily burst from its nose. Then, from the control panel's point of view, Dork is seen holding on to the console for support as his feet flail out behind him,

DORK STERGLY

(in a deep and booming manly voice)

"Whoa there, big fella!"

Dork pushes the throttle up to full and holds on again. The Erksnub in going around in circles and once every rotation we see it's cross-eyed pain stricken face and hear it's roaring cry, then when his ass comes around the sound of rocket thrusters comes in to replace its roar and we see the rocket still sticking out the anus, and around they go a few times or so. Then a detailed close-up on the pink skin of the anus stretching to the breaking point when it gives way with a ripping sound. A quick glimpse of a hanging snake of shit coming out after the rocketship with a small splurt of blood from the torn tissue is seen before cutting to a full view of the rocket popping out of the Erksnub and going flailing out of view into the distant horison.

[A fade to the next scene to show a short time lapse.]

The face of the Erksnub is seen resting peacefully relieved on the ground when he awakens with a start and looks behind him. Another Erksnub is bending its head down and looking wide-eyed at his ass, nostrils moving in a sniffing motion. Our Erksnub immediately gets up with a get-out-of-here roar and snorts in the other's face. The other turns and prances away with large balls, swinging back and forth to join a nearby heard of equally well endowed creatures of the same breed. They join in a huddle of gossip and a couple heads pop-up to look at our Erksnub who subsequently decides to leave the heard-life and wonders off.

Copyright (C) 1997 S. J. Dalgleish

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