Tag Archives: Fear

The Last Moon on the Left (excerpt)

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The bizarre kettle-shaped spaceship, suddenly turns off its powerful engine of raging bubbles. Now, both young boys listen intensly, to the slow, muted, thud of footsteps… from the creepy bottom step… to the agonisingly close and creaky top step of the stairs.

But it’s soon after those footsteps stop, after the deathly silence they create, when something that sounds as light as a balloon, and travelling in the unnatural breeze of the night; bumps innocently light, then mysteriously heavier (again and again) onto the exposed floorboards of the landing.

Luke (the younger ) suddenly remembers that in the most recent past, he had found ‘the landing’ very confusing, because nothing that he was aware of… until now, had ever landed there.

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Colourful Island (Part 4/4)

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The Island was now like a vision of every colour imaginable, mirrored by the water that underlines its form it was a floating diamond on the sea, luring him. He has never seen these colours before. Just the occasional fleeting of blue from a human-like’s eye has pierced his landscape screen of grey. The whiteout has bleached his memory of colour. He is like a completely blind person from birth that could only rely on the description of colour from someone with perfect 20/20 vision. He now sees all vibrant colours at once, if only it could be believed to be seen he thought. To the Man with Glasses, the Island was as real as the slow torture he had endured till that moment. He felt complete and uncontrollable exhaustion in swimming to the shore of this unknown Island. With the hypnotising magnetic pull of the colours, somehow, with his body, not belying his own, he finally succeeded.

Now on the shore of the Island his human-like battery-life flickers on again, he manages to pull himself by his insect limbs. He realises he is no longer wearing his glasses. He smiles a wonky smile as he finds to his bemusement that he no longer cares for them. Already, the world before these golden sands was distancing itself from him. He summons the strength to stand and turns around, stares at where he has swum from and opens his mouth, revealing a shrivelled tongue that flicks out, “How?” but no sound brakes from his lips. He hopes he can see his friends somewhere, but he sees nothing but the cold grey blanketing fog that he has succeeded to escape.  Sees enough he knows he will never be able to tell the woman and boy that he survived after all and this Island is for real. He thinks to himself that he would drown on the way back to tell them his unbelievable news. He finds this as funny as it is tragically sad.

The Island is no salvation to him yet, not until he discovers exactly where he is, some food, something to drink and then a place to rest. Then on awakening, his plan is to explore, find a boat in the hope to help the Woman and the Boy to his Island. He begins to walk shakily, as if in a little earthquake, and staggers away from the sea to a clearing. The clearing is between the welcome of fluorescent leafs of trees that he can just make out through his unadjusted slit like eyes. If he knew what a welcome banner was he would have half expected it, along with your our first ever customer. The colours are so dazzling and disorientating for him that he feels again like a new-born baby might, this Island has just given birth to him all over again.

Suddenly in the clearing, the shade the trees cast act like a sudden power cut to his new floodlit world, while his eyes adjust he hears a voice he immediately recognises; from somewhere and everywhere, this voice surrounds him. To his extreme annoyance he can’t make out exactly where or what words are being spoken, and then the voice grows as close as a whisper to a listening ear.  In his exhaustion, his legs buckle and collapses face first like a tied up dinosaur.

The Woman and the Boy stay on the beach for two more rotations of the cheap lamp sun and watch it like a bouncing ball in slow motion. After, the man’s disappearance into the sea, they feel more drawn to that sea than ever.  They visualise the man with glasses bloated with food and new facial muscles, he now has the opportunity to pull a true smile. He now owns the power to row a boat he found to save them. Their curiosity makes them want to swim even though they can’t hopelessness is full.

After they pick up their pitiful belongings they trudge up the coast, not sure why they should bother or what to do next. Careful words are their only comfort to each other. They walk and rest, then walk some more, continuously, for as long as yet to be, re-invented time. Between them they then begin to hope for anything, even the cannibals would be some break in their monotonous routine.

“The cannibals would be better than absolute nothing.” The Woman moans.

“Don’t say that…please.” The Boy mutters, tears flood his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I…I didn’t mean that, I’ll think of something, I promise.”

And then in the distance, along the aluminium coast, they see a man.  The man is tall and wearing glasses, he is staring out to sea.  Pointing out to the grey endless sea he senses their presence and calls out to them, “Hey! Can you see what I can see?”

 

Finding Found

When it’s all too much or you just can’t stick it,

And your impulse is to refuse.

But what if this is a trick, can it be too late?

Now… how funny is this? Or so cruel,

How strange; repulsively-beautiful.

But right now you can’t explain; you can’t begin to try!

Because…

At least one of us is the same; you feel better now

Finding found… Goodbye!

The Hexagon-Shaped-Phone

Recently, I’ve been spoken to: on a hexagon-shaped-phone. The voice was more in the phone than on it. The voice told me; real soft, that if they had to call me again, just one more time, they would tell me, most vehemently, of how much I’ve fucked up!

Then, by continuously fluffing my pillows with extinct feathers; that I had done so for the last time.

The voice then whispered for dramatic effect; saying that I had left them no choice but to – And at that moment I panicked, so I cut the voice off and have been waiting by the phone ever since!

Halloween on the East Coast of Nowhere

In the descending fog, someone’s getting lost. Late night tales are telling, Hell-o-ween, I said! How’s my spelling?

It’s the trick and no treat, that slow knock on the door, from no-one. Those masked, silent at your gate, come on now kids, pack it in! It’s getting late!

Do they celebrate death and worms? Tell me what you heard, what you saw? Now tell me again, ok, prove it to me, I want the gory details, do you see!

Because, everybody in the house might scream! And something in the house might go arrrrgh! One by one in the house they will go!?! Hello? Anyone left?

We love the scare; we love the violence, for it’s a full moon tonight, how nice – (silence).

The Water’s Edge

As I walked down to the water’s edge I knelt and plunged my right hand in,

increasing the rivers density, I watched my hand dance until I thought the river may

run dry, that my hand may never return to me.

I was wrong, my hand soon returned and it hurt like hell.

Then the river dissipated, cruelly, as I was now struggling to comprehend

dying among the scorching sand-dunes.