October 2009
8 posts
Aggot B. Otto and His Watch
Aggot’s phone had been ringing. The twelfth ring, he had counted. He was staring outside his broken window, looking at the flickering light across the street. On the fifteenth ring, Aggot picked up the phone.
“This is doctor Otto,” answered Aggot dryly. “Who is this?” he blurted. “Sorry, I don’t… When? Oh did I? Well, hello, how are you...
Love Trauma
Trauma kills. With each killing of lives, the next one becomes exponentially more cherished. But like the cat with nine, it doesn’t make us dead.
Trauma, the disease that tortures inevitably. The disease that can’t be cured, but treated. The disease that teaches the heart of the path to death.
All people are not equal. Trauma wears different masks, different faces to be seen by the...
Suffer
Grab it around the neck, that wretched beast which torments your soul. Embrace the creature with its fangs locked onto the body of your spirit. To force the beast off is only a temporary relief as the pain would still be burning from your open wound. Let the beasts jaws clasp themselves tightly, tighter every second. And until your spirit can cry no more, the beasts bite will reduce to a nibble...
The Collective Energies of Man
When you wake up tomorrow, it is usually unknown how the day is bound to be. Walking through the hours and minutes, passively accepting whatever father time gives, allowing your emotions and conscience to be tossed around like a ship in a storm. There are the days when the water is calm and there are the nights when the storms have yet to clear.
The sea, the wind and the sky, the collective...
Mr. Watanabe, the Japanese business man in trouble
I am sitting in my truck preparing for the work day ahead when a tan sedan pulls up next to me. I have my headphones on and I see him trying to get my attention, speaking something I couldnt hear. I remove my headphones and walk to the window of the japanese man dressed in tie and some pretty spiffy slacks, he was wearing one of those stereotypical japanese businessman glasses. “Excuse me,...
Mr. Otto
The ticking of the clock seemed to be getting louder and more prominent after each round of silence that the patient gave. The heavy clicks chugging uphill drove the pace of the room, seemingly mesmerizing both Doctor Aggot B. Otto and the man sitting on the chair.
“Think of yourself,” said the doctor, “as a gun.” The patient, a thin mustached man stared wide-eyed....
The Insides
“My stomach hurts,” said the kid in a disney land t-shirt. The father approaches the boy with a grimace, eyes curling downwards and emphasizing his already apparent wrinkles. His mustache bristles up and I could have sworn his face went form pink to more pink. The father, or at least I think he is, grabs the boy by his forearm. ”Okay, then lets go get some food!” He...
Mothers
The center is the sun, the provider of warmth. The source of our life and with boundless gravity, she carries the orbits of her children. Planets orbiting around the fiery star, orbiting with each other and living in their continuing circular movement.
Wondrous spheres all perfectly round to the naked eye go the way of their own pulls. Mysterious forces all propelling stones and snowballs around...