UNREAL Leslie Hutchinson derealization; “a feeling that one’s surroundings are not real” 9. now the world feels real, not on a fake split screen (it’s hard to understand if you don’t know it first hand) it starts in the morning an attack the night before lingers and i’m scared but i don’t notice... Show moreUNREAL Leslie Hutchinson derealization; “a feeling that one’s surroundings are not real” 9. now the world feels real, not on a fake split screen (it’s hard to understand if you don’t know it first hand) it starts in the morning an attack the night before lingers and i’m scared but i don’t notice yet. i sit up and feel woozy not physically, just my brain; i brush it off 40 i try to get up it’s harder than usual she's next to me, but i can’t see who she is even squinting Closer i Can’t see i can‘t see 3. we kiss and it‘s distant this isn‘t a lack of affection it’s a change of inflection in how the world speaks to me with a voice down to a whisper it’s quiet this morning and i can barely hear it Show less
by a rock. “Lady, you need to ask your friend for forgive- ness," he said. “I’m sure she would forgive you.” I grabbed the damned pamphlet out of his hand and threw it against the wall. “She’s dead,” I told him. “And you want to know another secret?” Luke shook his head no. Mark shook his head,... Show moreby a rock. “Lady, you need to ask your friend for forgive- ness," he said. “I’m sure she would forgive you.” I grabbed the damned pamphlet out of his hand and threw it against the wall. “She’s dead,” I told him. “And you want to know another secret?” Luke shook his head no. Mark shook his head, yes. I almost laughed. Since I had the air conditioner set at sixty-two degrees, the room was quite cool and comfortable, but my new friends looked like they had run a marathon. I couldn't stop my mouth. My throat felt scratchy and dry. I had to tell them. I had to puke the words out ofmy mouth, out ofmy heart. I was choking on the words. Strangled by the memories. I held the blazer in my hands and let my finger- nails graze the soft n'bs of the corduroy and looked at the two little man babies like I was facing God himself. “I wore it to her funeral," I said. And then, as if a llood had washed over my brain and into my mouth, I spewed out another tidbit of information I had never shared with anyone. Not one soul. “I have twenty-one blazers. Twenty-one beautiful pieces of art that l rescued from neglectful people. People who take for granted what it means to own some- thing so magnificent and unique. Each one has a story. That's what I was doing when the two of you interrupted my day. Cataloging the stories of my art. Telling the stories of how they came to me. How I rescued them." I wanted to cry. I put my hand in my pocket hoping to find a tissue in ease I started bawling. But the only thing in my pocket was a brown leather but- ton that had fallen offof the blazer. \Vithout a word, my captive audience walked to the door. I didn’t thank them. I didn’t say anything. As I held the button in my hand, I thought ofthe gold angel pin I found in the blazer’s pocket. V irginia’s angel pin. The last thing she put in the pocket. And I swear that as I watched them walk out the door I heard a voice whisper in my ear, “You’re forgiven.” You know, it’s a mystery to me why people have to sellJesus. Don’t we have enough to worry about in life without fussing over social morals from thou- sands of years ago? But theJesus people want you to hear it. They proclaim the Gospel through camera lenses and T.V. screens. You don’t have to leave your couch. They’re everywhere. Like Mark and Luke, knocking on my door to discussJesus and talk about forgiveness. You can’t get away from it. From them. TheJesus people. 11 Show less
van and were soon on their silent journey home. “Man, that was some heavy shit.” The others could only respond to Rex’s sum- mary oftheir trauma with dazed nods and muffled groans of agreement. “What the fuck are we gonna do, guys?" he continued. “This band is who we are; we can’tjust give up.” ... Show morevan and were soon on their silent journey home. “Man, that was some heavy shit.” The others could only respond to Rex’s sum- mary oftheir trauma with dazed nods and muffled groans of agreement. “What the fuck are we gonna do, guys?" he continued. “This band is who we are; we can’tjust give up.” “Maybe we could play, I don’t know, like something else? \Vhat kinda music does God like?" Dave asked. Garry sat forward in his recliner. “That fucking hippy shit, man. Remember those dudes with sandals at that one show in Iowa? They were playing God music.” “No way, man." “Fuck that.” “Ugh,” the oth- ers were visibly disgusted. They ruminated and took turns sipping their beers. Rex nervously scanned the room, its walls, the trash, the old television, as ifthere would be some divine answer scrawled into the dirt and neglect. He found his eyes lingering on the massive “Death‘s Bludgeon" banner that hung above the couch. He and Dave had made up the name in 4th grade. They were still every bit as proud of it now as they were then. Rex whispered is silently to himself, admiring both words individually. Death. Bludgeon. Suddenly, Rex was on his feet. “Dudes. I know what we have to do.“ The others looked up at him. They recognized the familiar grin he wore, the idea grin. “We don’t have to be scared ofthis fucker. We‘re Death’s Bludgeon. \Ve just have to kill him. \Vejust have to kill God." Dave and Garry let out murmurs of agree- ment; this was a good plan. Axel, still shaken up, offered a weak shrug and continued staring at the floor. The others stared at him. “You in, little brother?” Rex asked. Axel lifted his head, but avoided making eye contact until he found his voice. “Let's say I am. \Vhat then? Any ofyou know how to kill God? I mean, he’s got monsters and shit. You saw. They'll cut our heads off!” Garry and Dave nodded, that was a good point. They turned to Rex. He thought for a bit before answering. “Look dudes, we just need to find someone who knows about this God dude. That way, we can ask them how to kill him. ” “You mean like a priest or a rabbi?” Garry asked. “Yeah. Someone old and wise and shit.” There was another long pause as they tried to pool their limited mental resources. They muttered further qualifications as they went. “They’ve gotta be cool though, man. Not some prude.“ “Someone that’s traveled a bunch and shit. Seen the world, y’know?" “...with killer tattoos.” It went on like that for three more beers before they all gasped in unison at the realization that they had all been describing the same person. They looked at each other with wide eyes and big grins. “Jackal!” Jefferson “Jackal” Reed was a local legend in Rogersville and had been for as long as the boys had been alive. He was slender and worn out, with hollow cheeks and a longjaw. From the 605 to the late 80s he had seen all corners ofthe Earth while serving on the road crews for every metal band worth banging your head to. \'\’hen the four mem- bers of Death’s Bludgeon shook hands with him on 21 Show less
BUTTERFLY Halle Bliss Chambers Delicate wings flutter gently, Fresh from the cocoon. Now that you are out of there, You‘ll be soaring soon. No more crawling where feet can crush you, Now you’ve got wings to fly. Once you can learn how to use them, You’ll be taking to the sky. You flap your wings up... Show moreBUTTERFLY Halle Bliss Chambers Delicate wings flutter gently, Fresh from the cocoon. Now that you are out of there, You‘ll be soaring soon. No more crawling where feet can crush you, Now you’ve got wings to fly. Once you can learn how to use them, You’ll be taking to the sky. You flap your wings up and down, Slowly gaining height. Now you‘re swooping through the air, You’re now in full blmm flight. You're reaching for the clouds, Far above the tallest treet Yes, “’hat once was a weak little caterpillar, ls finally flying free. 11] Show less
thickened causing David to stumble and fall for- ward. His arms flailed in front ofhimselfsearching for purchase to stop his momentum as they broke the water, meeting resistance, as ifhis hands were going through sludge. He caught himself,barely avoiding meeting face first with the now gelatinous,... Show morethickened causing David to stumble and fall for- ward. His arms flailed in front ofhimselfsearching for purchase to stop his momentum as they broke the water, meeting resistance, as ifhis hands were going through sludge. He caught himself,barely avoiding meeting face first with the now gelatinous, but still reflective, water. He gazed at his reflection, his hair had short- ened and now carried wisps ofgray,his brown eyes dulled, and his smile was now a thin line. \Vith some eflbrt he got up and saw that the leaves had fallen and turned orange, now sticking in clumps upon the canal’s surface, as the orange sun blazed above the door. The voice was back, but it wasn’t a gentle whis- per of wind that surrounded him and caressed his skin. This time the voice came from the darkness beyond the door, screeching through the air like a knife on a whetstone. “Just enter the door David.” David blinked, finding himselfin front ofthe darkness. The yellow sun had returned, the leaves had returned to their branches, and the scent of flowers flitted through his nostrils. He lifted his leg and found that the water once again parted like blue velvet. Looking down he saw that the gray in his hair had left, his eyes brighter, and the smile was back. “Come to me David,” The voice said, once again sounding like the wind, a wind that was tou- sling his hair and gently pushing him towards the door, “Just step through the door, and you’ll see me soon enough.” David looked from the door to back over his shoulder and found that the canal he was in seemed to go on for a straight line for a mile until 130 it branched ofl into other canals.“Wonder where they lead," he thought. Turning back towards the darkness, he gazed deep into it. Trying to pierce the inky blackness that pooled and clung to the doorframe,the water's surface, the air itself. A dark- ness that sent out gnarled tendrils that lurked,crept, crawled, slithered, and slinked from their side of the doorway, only to get rebufled when they met sunlight on the other. “Tsk, tsk," the voice scolded in its tinkling voice as a gust of wind forced David's eyes shut, “No peeking, that’s cheating." “\Vhat," David gulped, “what are you?" David gripped the edge of the door, the second his hand made contact the door started to rot, the leaves above grayed and dropped like stones, the sun had fallen behind the door. and in the dark- ness, glowing like a beacon, was a pale silver flame that with each flicker sent a chill of...finality down David’s spine. Gazing into the flame, David saw himself. His hair was a now patch of white, his eyes holding the expressiveness ofa piece ofdead bark and his smile was a toothless thing with gray gums. The reflec- tion in the flame spoke to him. i “Step into the Darkness David! You've no- where else to go!" David looked at his own reflection, and then shifted his attention to his wrinkled hand gripping the rotten wood with a white-knuckle grip. Looking forward at the silver reflection, he shook his head and took a step back, slowly releasing his grip on the door,till only the tips ofhis fingers were brush- ing the edge. “You won't escape me David. Regardless of what path you take, I will always be at the end!" Show less
& how we tell each other lies about the good-oldays in the war Because eventually we’ll have that conversation: You’ll ask, “ls god dead?" “Yes,” I’ll answer you, “and we killed her." 99
FAT Marisa Mosqueda 44 Fat stomach Fat thighs Fat as Fat people doing fat things Fat jokes Fat so fat it needs its own zip code Fat camp Fat mlls Fat genes Fat girls need to lose weight Fat body Fat lady sings to help you make a point Fat shame Fat hale Fate lies Fat words hurt more than fat lips... Show moreFAT Marisa Mosqueda 44 Fat stomach Fat thighs Fat as Fat people doing fat things Fat jokes Fat so fat it needs its own zip code Fat camp Fat mlls Fat genes Fat girls need to lose weight Fat body Fat lady sings to help you make a point Fat shame Fat hale Fate lies Fat words hurt more than fat lips Fatphobia Fat fists in the fat air Fat pride Fat chance I give a shit Show less
GIVE US NOW OUR DAILY SPREAD Leslie Hutchinson (three original spells) l. i was born to hear the tides to breathe in deep, my arms out wide to feel the warmth of rays of sun to seek out stones since eanh’s begun a path to follow waits ahead from waking hours to dreams in bed it’s one i’ve been on... Show moreGIVE US NOW OUR DAILY SPREAD Leslie Hutchinson (three original spells) l. i was born to hear the tides to breathe in deep, my arms out wide to feel the warmth of rays of sun to seek out stones since eanh’s begun a path to follow waits ahead from waking hours to dreams in bed it’s one i’ve been on through my days but only now have found the ways to walk along this road with pride my words & spirit as my guide 11. charm the lensc that i may see hidden figures surrounding me shatter walls that keep in place veils hiding bodies, rings & face cleanse my eyes that i may see dream & aura, spirits free In. when friendships spoil & good tidings cease i use these words to keep the peace stay far away from this space, my mm stay locked inside your pn'son home and even searching far 8: m'de you‘ll never find out where i hide. 107 Show less
THE CANAL Steven Custer Water splished and splashed against the concrete guardrails that served as the edges ofthe canal. Yellow sunlight shone through the green canopy of leaves, reflecting oiT ofthe water’s surface, causing the light to shimmer and dance to the rhythm of the waves. An open door... Show moreTHE CANAL Steven Custer Water splished and splashed against the concrete guardrails that served as the edges ofthe canal. Yellow sunlight shone through the green canopy of leaves, reflecting oiT ofthe water’s surface, causing the light to shimmer and dance to the rhythm of the waves. An open door made of wooden planks stood at the end. lts bottom soaked, it leads to dark— Hess. The wind whispered, pushing at David's back, beckoning him towards the open door. As David waded through the canal, cool liquid chilling his legs with every step,he heard a voice. A whispering sound that penetrated his ears and felt like wind rustling through the leaves. “Come closer. That’s it," the voice giggled. It was a tinkling sound that carried a small echo. David halted and quickly looked around, his rapid movement agitating the \vater.“\\'ho was that?" he asked, his voice coming out hoarse. The voice giggled again, the wind picking up and carrying with it the sweet aroma of fresh flowers intermixed with the earthy scent ofthe leaf canopy and the indecipherable scent of water. “You‘ll know soon enough David,just come to the door." David said nothing. Remaining still, he looked up at the sky and saw that the sun was a shining yellow directly overhead, filtering through the leaves and casting inviting shadows. He looked down towards the water, watching how the wind was tousling his brown locks, his brown eyes-- bright with lift-"staring back at him. He smiled and saw his reflection match his gesture. “What’s beyond the door?” David looked up and reached his hand towards one ofthe patches of sunlight that managed to break through the cano- PY- The voice didn‘t answer. The wind that had carried the scent of flowers had died down, the patches oflight had disappeared, and the water that had parted as smooth as silk before had now 129 Show less
CONFESSION Patti Lindaberry Why do people insist on sellingjesus? It’s bad enough they’re all over the airwaves. Every television station. TheseJesus people have their own network to make sure the entire world gets the message. Not to mention every bookstore and magazine rack. You can‘t escape it... Show moreCONFESSION Patti Lindaberry Why do people insist on sellingjesus? It’s bad enough they’re all over the airwaves. Every television station. TheseJesus people have their own network to make sure the entire world gets the message. Not to mention every bookstore and magazine rack. You can‘t escape it. On this channel, somebody‘s selling Jesus‘s sweat or some kind of oil to anoint some sinner. There‘s a book that teaches you how to talk toJesus and how he can talk to you. But when they disturb a perfectly quiet afternoon by knocking on your door, that's just rude. Aren’t they satisfied with their media invasion? Honestly. Isn't privacy sacred to anyone these days? It was a Thursday afternoon. I had taken that day off from work to catalog some unique art I’ve collected over the years. It was hotter than hell outside, which made my apartment even hotter. I turned on the air conditioner. I didn’t want to sweat all over my collection of blazers. My precious art. Plus, I get these hot flashes. Menopausal I guess, and I sweat like a monsoon. Anyway, I hear this knock on my door. People don’t usually visit me without calling first. It’s not polite. But, you know what they say, “Curiosity killed the cat and satisfaction brought him back.” I answered the door. “Hello mam. My name is Mark and this is my brother in Christ, Luke. \Ve were wondering if we could take a few minutes of your time to tell you about our Lord,_]esus Christ.” I stood there in my baggie shirt and shorts that had paint stains on them from the last time I tried to paint my kitchen. All I could do was stare at these man babies, dressed in black pants, shoes and ties hanging around their skinny necks. “'ho, in their right mind, would wear a white button down shirt without a suit jacket or blazer? There they stood in the doorway with their mouths gaping open like fish dangling from a hook. I couldn’t bring myself to close the door in their faces. They were so angelic. “What do you need to tell me about him?" I Show less
himself with the bathroom floor whenever Allison was away at work.~ “It was a fifty thousand dollar commission, Allison!" Angus could hear every word Vanessa said even though he was hiding deep beneath the king—sized bed on the second floor. It had been a sunny week- end a few weeks after his daily... Show morehimself with the bathroom floor whenever Allison was away at work.~ “It was a fifty thousand dollar commission, Allison!" Angus could hear every word Vanessa said even though he was hiding deep beneath the king—sized bed on the second floor. It had been a sunny week- end a few weeks after his daily imprisonment began and earlier that day the two women had gone out to a park for the afternoon. Angus hadn’t thought any— thing of their absence until he meandered up the stairs and noticed the door to the spare bedroom. It hadn’t been shut completely. He pushed it open with his nose and gingerly peaked his head inside. There were a number of small cabinets for art supplies, a cork board pinned with photos, and a large easel with a mostly finished ponrait of an old lady painted on a large canvas. Angus took a brief tour of the room, sniffing each object and rubbing his nose against the cabinets. When he pushed his shoulder against one of the legs on the easel, it slid forward causing the whole thing to collapse with a clatter. For a moment, Angus ran from the room, but soon he cautiously returned. The canvas had landed face up, he sniffed the dried paint and then pawed it. He felt the canvas give under his paw began to wonder what it would feel like to run his claws along its length. This he did and quickly found that it was an incredibly pleasur- able sensation. The canvas had an ideal mixture of firm texture and cloth-like softness. He sat atop it and took long, stretching pulls across its surface until there was no surface left intact. Then he napped in his window sill. 68 He was awoken by a scream from Vanessa and rushed from the room in terror. Instinct took over and he found himself in the other bedroom, buried deeply under the bed, Allison hurriedly climbed the stairs to see what was wrong. She and Vanessa argued loudly and then grew silent for the rest of the evening. The silence remained unbroken until the following day when Allison returned fmm work. Angus didn’t rush to greet her, even this routine was now disrupted. Instead. he watched her greet Vanessa with a single syllable before taking a seat at the kitchen table with her phone, a notepad, and a pen set in front of her. He positioned himself under the couch where he could peer at her through the door while remaining hidden. He couldn't hear what words she was saying, but he could read her sighs and the sad tone of her voice that grew more solemn with every call she made. That night she slept on the corduroy couch with him, but then- was a distance in their closeness and it brought him no happiness. The next morning Allison struggled An- gus into a plastic carrier and set him in the passen- ger seat of her car. As she drove, he spent the whole time bawling and pleading, unsure of where they were going but certain it wasn't anywhere pleasant. She parked in front of a bleak gray building with a sign that read, “Animal Shelter". Angus could hear her crying. She turned the carrier so she could see into it and spoke. Her voice was interrupted sobs. “It isn’t that I don't love you, buddy. You know I do. It’s just that, you know, I love Vanessa too and it just isn’t working this way. I‘ve called everyone I know, and no one wants to help. Someone nice will find you here and you‘ll get to be happy with them." . He couldn’t remember exactly what happened Show less
could Nemo. When we heard his desperate gasps, -we were stricken by numbness.We looked at the broken body lying mangled and lifeless on top of ‘ rocks and pebbles inside of what looked like a grave. ‘ We could hardly see him. The lights shining through the apartment windows weren’t enough. One of... Show morecould Nemo. When we heard his desperate gasps, -we were stricken by numbness.We looked at the broken body lying mangled and lifeless on top of ‘ rocks and pebbles inside of what looked like a grave. ‘ We could hardly see him. The lights shining through the apartment windows weren’t enough. One of us needed to turn the light on from a phone to make ‘sure he wasn’t bleeding from his head.I couldn’t do it. After moments of trying to grasp the situation, we all began to act. “Nobody touch him. Keep him right there!” “David, keep talking to him. Make him stay awake." “Someone call an ambulance!" We called the ambulance almost two minutes after Nemo had not moved other than when we made him wiggle his toes. W hile we waited for the ambulance, we asked the people standing outside what happened although it was obvious. It couldn’t have taken more than a second for him to fall from the roof, but the bystanders said it felt like forever. They said time was trying to come to a stand still when he had fallen halfway but that it sped up as he bounced 0H of the concrete retaining wall at the edge of the well. They said he looked like a bird with a broken wing trying to fly from a branch. As much as we were shocked, we weren’t surprised that something like this finally happened. Nemo complicated his life by making decisions that always had just the slightest potential to be incred- ibly harmful. We always told him not to do things like that, but there was always a part of us that wanted to see how well he could run the obstacle course he made out of his life. He almost always made it out of any situation with only a few bumps, nicks, or burns. Eventually people from the other apartments came outside to figure out what the loud, crashing sound was. One girl from the apartment on the first floor said she thought the big oak tree in the front yard fell down. Most of us still surrounded him as he lay down motionless in the well, but many of us couldn’t bear for that to be the way we saw him especially if it were for the last time. Four minutes had passed before the ambulance pulled up to the apartment complex with the lights and sirens blaring. The loud sirens and flashing red lights pulled us all back into the moment; most of us still didn’t believe any of what happened was real. We slowly walked over to Nemo. “Hey bud. The ambulance is here to come and take you to the hospitalJust lay there for now. They’ll be over here in a second.” Nemo opened his eyes and immediately sat right up. We all were relieved and shocked. He still was not talking, but we all tried asking him if he was alive. He said he wasn’t sure in a muddled stupor. His eyelids flitted before his eyes grew wide and vacant. “I’m not getting into the ambulance. I don’t want to get in trouble,“ he said. We were all confused. “\Vho’s going to get you in trouble?“ “My parents can’t know about this. I can’t pay for an ambulance. " “That doesn’t matter right now. Are you al- right?" “I think my left side is broken.“ Just then, he stood up on his own two feet, lift- ed himself up and rolled out of the well even with a broken wrist and elbow among the several other injuries we later learned about. He winced in pain 57 Show less
THE BORDER Steven Custer It's a tradition in my village that when a young child reaches maturity they are taken on ajoumey, ajoumey to the Border. When I reached maturity my father took me to the Border. The Border residt: over the crest of a craggy hill when: two cities lie in a valley. Both... Show moreTHE BORDER Steven Custer It's a tradition in my village that when a young child reaches maturity they are taken on ajoumey, ajoumey to the Border. When I reached maturity my father took me to the Border. The Border residt: over the crest of a craggy hill when: two cities lie in a valley. Both were surrounded by four walls, their westem and eastern walls touching and acting as the only method of separation between the two. The left city had walls made of gray brick. The bricks were precisely stacked with one brick laid on top of two, a staggered pattern. The upper corners of the bottom two bricks bisected the middle of the top one. The bricks were separated by cement the same shade as they. The cement succinctly filled the seams, making the walls appear as one giant piece of clay that was perfectly symmetrical. Over the enmutce to the city was a white sign that featured a singular word right in the center. The word was in a deep black. All the letters were the same distance apart and each stroke that made up a letter was straight with no de\iatiorts, even the cunes for the ‘e’s,’ ‘c,’ o,’ and ‘m’ seemed to be straight as if they were stenciled by a word procesor. The sign did not make one feel ‘\\’elcome’ as it implied. The streets of the city were much like the walls that sunounded it and the letters processed on their Sign; perfectly laid, straight, and with no dedations, faults, cracks, or signs of wear. The buildings that inhabited each block were made of the same material as the walls. The buildings were aligned vertically from left to right from shortest to tallest. Each had two broad “indons on e\ery floor, on every wall that faced the street. The people walking wore clothes that were a lighter shade of gray then their surroundings. The men were dress shoes, slacks, and a business suit with a white tie. All of their hair was cut the same style and all of them walked at the same pace The women all were flats, with drex skins and blouses with a busine$ jacket, their hair tied up in a bun with a metal pin, their paces 37 Show less
4. getting dressed is looking down barrel legs and arms they‘re far away from me, my fingernails are coins and i’m poor. the metaphorical View waivers in and out the camera won’t focus 5. i'm leaving for work and pulling my shoes over my feet; the feeling is one million miles away i’m freezing but... Show more4. getting dressed is looking down barrel legs and arms they‘re far away from me, my fingernails are coins and i’m poor. the metaphorical View waivers in and out the camera won’t focus 5. i'm leaving for work and pulling my shoes over my feet; the feeling is one million miles away i’m freezing but i can’t tell 6. outside is even worse everything they talk about is comedy “i failed the religion paper, i think the professor doesn’t like that i’m atheist.“ where do my beliefs lie? in a world where everything is god i guess today i'm an atheist. interactions are from long shot my view obscured the science says “thin fog” but i can’t see that anywhere this is all in my head 8. i come back though i never left i see her and love her i see me and know myself i trace my finger around the mirror and it does notjump back like it did before 9. and, again the world feels real, not on a fake split screen (it’s hard to understand if you don’t know it first hand 41 Show less
- Thoughts about how scary adult- hood is - Not finandal aid fiilly cover the ocpcnses of your private school liberal arts education - Not having the safety net of being on your parents health insurance plan - Not the safety net of being on anyone’s hmllh insurance plan — Realizing you haven’t been... Show more- Thoughts about how scary adult- hood is - Not finandal aid fiilly cover the ocpcnses of your private school liberal arts education - Not having the safety net of being on your parents health insurance plan - Not the safety net of being on anyone’s hmllh insurance plan — Realizing you haven’t been taking non: for the last twenty minutes and dam is ending now - Telling yourself that you‘ll get the notes. .. otTof a power point... of? of moodle. .. later . Accepting that you totally just lied to yourself about getting notes... ofl" ofapowerpoint... off of moodle. . . later - Fuck moodle — F udt whoever aeated moodle - Who did create moodle? - Probably Mr. Moodle - Shit... Wait, that’s not fair... It could havejust as easily been Mm Moodle - Needing to be more aware of white heterosexual male privilege - Calmly walking out of class - Calmly walking to my car - My check engine light - The fact that my check engine light has been on long enough now that it‘s actually starting to get easy to ignore - Students - Students drinking coffee as they fight against the hours of the day - Students riding bikes - The thought of how much I hate the Students riding bikes when I’m driving - The Washington Street Bridge John Berryman - The spot on the Washington Street Bridge wherejohn Berryman to his death. - The Weisman Art Museum - Shiny objects 71 Show less
Death’s Bludgeon never learned if the congregation ofGrace Baptist Church had intentionally recre- ated their likenesses in hopes oftheir attending the haunted house or ifit wasjust an unfortunate coin- cidence. Regardless, the actors that took the stage were nearly exact replicas of Rex, Axel,... Show moreDeath’s Bludgeon never learned if the congregation ofGrace Baptist Church had intentionally recre- ated their likenesses in hopes oftheir attending the haunted house or ifit wasjust an unfortunate coin- cidence. Regardless, the actors that took the stage were nearly exact replicas of Rex, Axel, Dave, and Garry. Their dirty long hair and outfits matched perfectly. They each took their correct place on the stage. The replica bandleader stepped forward and grabbed the microphone. “\Ve are Satan’s Cradle! Rock’n'roll!“ The loudspeakers erupted with prerecorded audience track which was soon interrupted by deafening thrash metal. The replica band Hailed along, trying their best to mimic the movements of the music. For a moment, the members of Death’s Bludgeon were relieved. It was all so ridiculous. These guys didn’t know what they were doing. It was ajoke. A group smile grew across their faces, but it was short lived. \Vith a flash oflight and a burst from the fog machines, a monster appeared on stage with the fake band. Sure, there had been monsters in every room thus far, but they had worn obvious costumes and latex masks that were easy for the discerning eye to recognize. This new mon- ster seemed alive. It had horns and scars and there were no discernible seams like one would expect from a mask or costume. Its voice filled the room with a low growl. It looked into the eyes of Death’s Bludgeon as it spoke. “You have angered the Most High God! You have given yourselves over to this ‘heavy metal’ music, which is an abomination in the eyes of the Lord!” The monster paused for effect. “Your pun- ishment has been decreed. Suffer eternal torment!” With that, the monster produced a large sickle 20 from the darkness and swiftly decapitated Rex‘s doppleganger. Had the monster been less convinc- ing, the special effect would have been obvious. While the demon had been giving his monologue, the actor had used the distraction to turn his back on the audience and place his wig on a paper mache head. With his neck bent downward, he held the fake head on his shoulders for the demon to slice OH". This was all done with great speed, so the effect was quite impressive. The final touch was a water gun full of fake blood that sprayed the stage red. Unfortunately, Death’s Bludgeon hadn't noticed the trick. They broke down under the accu- mulated weight of fear and disgust. “Oh, fuck this." “Get me the fuck out ofhere, Rex!" Axel had been reduced to a shrieking, tear- stained panic. He was clinging to Rex’s sleeve and whimpering a constant stream ofpleas and fears. Garry and Dave were already searching for a back passage to the surface. The horrors on- stage continued. The costumes and spotlights had mostly blinded the actors and they couldn't see the commotion their antics had sparked in their audience. The demon continued hacking them to pieces. Dave pushed his way through the curtains lining the walls and found a stairway. He yelled for the others and they were soon rescued by the night sky. As they scrambled to the Dragon Wagon, a costumed ghoul, unaware oftheir panic, leapt from the darkness and tried to scare them. Garry gave a startled shout and threw a punch, entirely from reflex, which dropped the monster, a volun‘ teer Sunday school teacher, onto the ground in an unconscious heap. The bandmates hurried to the Show less
some things to be serious about, I think." “Like what?" I poured myselfa glass of water out of the crystal glass pitcher the bartender brought over. “Do you want to know what an ex ofmine asked me last week?" I was warm and thirsty, so I took a sip ofwa— ter. The coolness calmed me a bit. “Sure.”... Show moresome things to be serious about, I think." “Like what?" I poured myselfa glass of water out of the crystal glass pitcher the bartender brought over. “Do you want to know what an ex ofmine asked me last week?" I was warm and thirsty, so I took a sip ofwa— ter. The coolness calmed me a bit. “Sure.” “Well, I told him that he should try new things, be a bit less narrow-minded, more cultured, something like that. He told me the only people who have the time to waste like that are clowns. Then as he left he asked me if that's what I wanted. A clown." The flame on the candle began to flicker more intensely. I looked back down for a brief sec- ond. “Okay,” I said still looking down at the candle. “And I thought that wasjust odd at the first, but I guess I had never had the opportunity." She moved her chair closer to me and rubbed her hand on the thigh ofmy satin costume. “So, after a few drinks and getting to know eachother a bit more, let's go back to your place." I tensed up and acci- dentally swallowed an ice cube as I drank from my cup. I choked but made sure she didn‘t notice. “Nothing serious, of course." It was the first time in awhile that I had been sought out in any way. My heart rushed at first, but it didn‘t last long. “How did you get here?" “I came with a friend, but she ended up leav- ing with some other guy. Why?" I looked down at the candle. The flame was doused by a pool ofwax. The Moment wasn‘t right, I suppose. I stood up to leave. The woman sat there con- fused. “Where are you going?" "Home." My talk with the woman, no matter how brief it was, gave me some piece of mind. It was nice feeling like more thanjust a clown for one night. “\Vell, can I come with?" She wasn‘t smiling anymore. “No. I’m sorry, but it won't work.” “\’\’ell, why not?” I sighed at first, but after thinking about I couldn't help but giggle. “I don’t have enough room in my car." I laughed hysterically, almost crying, as I turned toward the door to leave. 141 Show less
