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Initiation

August 11, 2011 in I

By David Myers

 

Jake closed his eyes and breathed a victorious sigh. Five days ago his father had kicked him out of their family truck.  Jake had fallen to the ground, rolled through the mud and staggered to his feet dirty, bruised and wet on the side of the road.

“Jasper is 130 miles by road. Only 45 if you cut through the forest.” His father tossed a hunting knife from the window. It made a feeble squelching sound when it landed in the mud. “You left this truck a boy; let’s see what you come back as.” Without another word his father drove away.

Only 45 miles through a forest that had few trails and fewer that were made by man. Over fast flowing rivers that had no bridges and water that would carry you to your grave if you put a foot wrong. Only 45 miles. It had taken him 5 days.

Jake had been the alien in the forest. The fifteen year old boy crashing through low hanging branches, frightening away the creatures that called it home.  A boy looking for a way out, a way through, a way to his father’s respect.

Now, five days later, he had done it. He could see his father’s shadowy outline leaning against the cabin, watching the forest. Cigarette butts piled about his feet. He need only go down to him. Look him in the eye and it would be done.

Jake’s feet were sore, his clothes hung from his body in rags, he was covered in dirt and dried blood, and he was nursing a cut in his hand where a squirrel he had thought dead had bitten him. He was starving and his father would have food.  Food, water, dry clothes and a bed.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of the cold but familiar rain.  His body swayed gently to the sounds of the forest and the creatures within it. So different to the world of man.

Jake’s left foot moved backwards and his body turned to the right.  Step by step he moved deeper into the trees, away from Jasper and his father.  Away from the food, water, dry clothes, warm bed and respect.  They belonged to his father.  He would find his own.

 

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Teeth

March 30, 2011 in T

By David Myers


“So how can we help you this evening?” asked Doctor Andrew.

George shifted uncomfortably in the dentist chair. He concentrated, and with a soft Foomph transformed into his Vampire face.

“Ow” He moaned.

“Oh yes, I see the problem straight away.” chuckled Doctor Andrew.  “Your Canine are misaligned, which is why they are stabbing through your lip. Open wide.”

He began poking and prodding each of George’s teeth with various stainless steel tools.

“It is a common problem amongst Vampires, especially the recently turned. You don’t get your teeth fixed whilst you are alive, turn undead and they become a problem.  Do you floss?” George shook his head. “Start.  It’s all well and good being immortal, but if you don’t take care of your teeth, they are not going to take care of you. Ok I’m done.”

Foomph!

“So….?” George asked.

“You are going to need braces. Which, will impose certain limitations on your lifestyle. You won’t be able to switch between human face and vampire face whilst you have them on. You will have to stay a vampire for the duration.”

“How long”

“About 5 years.”

“5 years!”

“Yes well the Vampire’s natural healing ability is very counterproductive when applying corrective surgery.”

“How will I hunt?” George protested “I can’t lure girls into dark alleys with that face. I’ll have to drink pig’s blood.”

“Oh no, don’t do that!  Pig’s blood has a frightening rate of decay and often leads to gingivitis. I know it’s the trendy thing to do these days. Brooding in the dark.  Acting all tortured and misunderstood in order to attract goth girls. But, how long are they going to stick around when you become a toothless freak with rotting gums?” Doctor Andrew swiveled in his chair and began scribbling on a notepad.

“But doctor what I’m a going to do? If I can’t hunt, or drink pigs blood how will I eat?” George asked.

“I’m really not qualified to answer that question. I’m a dentist not a dietician. I can refer you to a colleague of mine if you like.”

George leaned back and thought.

“I can book you in for Tuesday. Afternoon ok for you? Wait of course it’s not what am I thinking. Have to be Thursday then.”

“Do you make house calls?”

Doctor Andrew stopped writing on his pad. For the first time during the consultation he had nothing to say. George smiled.

.

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Personals

September 7, 2010 in P

By David Myers


“Hi… is this thing on?  Ok. Good work guys. So umm… Hi. My name is Timothy, but you can call me Tim.  I’m… um 22 years old and I am the King of the Zombies.  I sort of inherited the title from my Father, after he died.  Say ‘Hi’ to the camera Dad.”

“Uhhh”

“Sorry that’s the best he can do these days.

It is a fairly recent change in my life, becoming royalty.  A lot of responsibility ruling the walking dead and to be honest , I sometimes don’t know what to do with them all. But, on the bright side there is always someone around to make a cup of tea or do the dishes.

So, I’m looking for someone special. I am most interested in someone who is 20 to 25 years old, is fun, down to earth and a little bit cheeky. Someone who has a nice laugh, likes animals, going to the movies and dancing.  Oh and probably it would help if you know a little self defence or are handy with an axe. You know, just in case.

What else?  Oh yes and alive, very important that one.  Please don’t write to me if you’re dead, because you know, that would be weird and awkward, and no one wants that.

So, yes if you ever want to be treated like a princess, or wanted to marry into Royalty. Give me a call.  Put the brain down Dad.  *Sigh*”

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Dirty

September 3, 2010 in D

By David Myers


I all but kick the bath room door open.  With frantic speed I am inside and just as quickly I close the door behind me.  Safe at last.  It is done and no one need ever know.  I close my eyes and lean my head on the closed door.  I want nothing more than to have a smoke and crawl into bed. Every muscle aches and if I ever see a shovel again it will be too soon.

One weary foot follows the other until I collapse onto the toilet.  I do not take off my pants but rather just sit there listening to the dripping of the tap into the sink, slow and rhythmic above the sound of my own breathing. I can see the top of my face in the mirror above that sink.  It is dirty. My forehead and hair heavily crusted with mud and something else that I dare not think about for too long. My own blue eyes stare back at me, a stark contrast from a face that even I do not recognise.

I couldn’t tell you how long I sit there for.  Maybe it was only a moment maybe it was an hour. All that time just staring into the man in the mirror. Wondering how I would ever be able to wash away all that dirt and filth. It felt like I had been dirty for so long.

Eventually I rise and my filthy clothes fall from my body one by one. I don’t hurry as I step into the shower and shiver as the cold water hits my body.  The phone starts to ring, but I don’t rush.  The flecks of mud, dirt and reddened water wash from my body, disappearing down the drain and taking my terrible sin with them.  Eventually there is just water. The insistent chirp, relentless in its need for attention continues as I turn the tap off. Naked and wet I step into the hall.

“Hello.” I say.  “Sarah? No she is not home at the moment.  No sorry I don’t know where she is. Yes, I’ll tell her you called.” I hang up.  I can see my reflection in the mirror.  I’m finally clean.

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Unrequited

May 21, 2010 in U

By David Myers


She flies through the air,

A spirit both nimble and free,

Dancing and playing,

for all to see,

He watched from the ground,

For she had ensnared his eye,

To her beauty, her grace, her charm,

Oh how he wished he could fly,

To dance with her,

Two hearts entwined,

To leave this early confinement,

Far, far behind,

He sighs wistfully,

as he stared into heaven,

For dreams, such as these,

Surely a man can be forgiven.

.

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Environment

February 11, 2010 in E

By David Myers

Sunday: Dear Diary, Ainslie and I had a massive fight tonight, and I blame Al Gore. Ever since we saw that damn documentary of his, we have been at each other’s throats over turning the toilet light off.  I’m tired of the endless bickering. So the toilet light, in fact all the lights in the house are going off and staying off! Ainslie is away this week. Things are going to be different when she gets back.

Monday: Keep bumping into things. Hurt my knee. Not abandoning my plan, but will need to pick up some stuff from work tomorrow. I’m determined to make this happen and not give in.  We’ll see who is more environmentally friendly.

Tuesday: Grabbed one of the ‘Submerge D sonar devices’, which we send out to the navy boys, from work. I spent the night on the couch listening to sound waves bouncing off the walls.  A bit disorientating at first and really loud, but with some practice I’m pretty sure I can avoid the furniture.

Wednesday: Police dropped by. The neighbours complained about the noise. Don’t they realise this is about saving the planet! Tried to explain that to the police, but they weren’t interested.  There are no laws against recreational use of a submarine class sonar device in a suburban area. I looked it up on the net. But I am suffering from some hearing loss and the dog has run away so I might try something else.

Thursday: Night vision goggles are awesome! I spent the whole night running around the house.  I wouldn’t recommend watching TV with them on, but I’m going to tell all my friends to get one. I am such an Eco warrior!

Friday: Everything looked weird this morning.  I thought my eyes had been damaged by the goggles. Turns out I forgot to take them off last night before bed. People were giving me some funny looks at work.  The duty sergeant wanted to know why I was taking stuff home.  I’m on reprimand.  Pity I was enjoying the goggles. I picked up a cane from a shop for the visually challenged.  That seems to be working ok.

Saturday: Ainslie and I had another fight. She wanted to know why there was a big pile of shit on her grandmother’s rocking chair.  I must have mistaken it for the toilet in the dark.

a

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Imagination

January 18, 2010 in I

By David Myers

The page is blank.  The page is blank and the internet explorer icon lurks at the bottom of the computer screen. It beckons him into a world of information.   A world of news, of social networking, of blogs filled with random thoughts, short films, online dating agencies and pornography. Whatever he could possibly want to know, watch, stalk or wank off to. All at his finger tips. The answer to all his free time.

But when he is done, the page will still be blank.

He closes his eyes, and it’s all there in front of him.  A world, no a universe untouched and unknown.  A strange land filled with strange places and strange people – all of his devising.

He been here before, has been visiting this world for months.  Whenever he has needed to escape from work, he closes his eyes and is there. It keeps him smiling when he is wedged between fellow commuters all riding the train to work.   It is joy in an otherwise mundane existence.  It is a world that he could share with others, if only he can find the words.

He opens his eyes.  The page is blank.

His hand moves to the keyboard and he begins to type.

A

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Xerophile

January 8, 2010 in X

By David Myers


The house was empty.  Dazed Nigel wandered from room to room.

TV, gone.

Hi-fi, gone.

Table, gone.

Chairs, gone.

Fridge, gone.

Bed, gone.

Make up, dresses, pantyhose, shoes, hats, stuffed toys, bras, garish pink fluffy slippers, all gone.

Nigel couldn’t believe she had taken the fridge. The only thing she had left him was a cactus with a note firmly impaled on one of its spines.

“Here is something you won’t need to water.”

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