all that is beyond

inspired by twitter prompt: #vss365

The silver dollar danced up and down the stranger’s fingers, tumbled from his knuckles in a brilliant flurry of bright flashes, cutting light and sticky curses.

Max was suddenly sober for the first time in twenty-three months. More even, the feeling of sleepwalking fell off of him as soon as that silver light pierced his eyes.

The presence of the coin dragged him into this bar and slammed him into that seat near the stranger. It put him back into his place. Fifty-four years old, profusely sweating, diabetic, a man without a home or family or a penny to his name – that was his place, the only one he merited. It brought back the insecurity, the impotence, the numbness in his hands and feet, the inadequacy, the being alone. There was tingling in his crotch. He saw the stains on his pants for the first time.
Finally, the coin snapped him into the present heartbeat, like a bungee cord attached to his bum ticker.

may, 28th

writing exercise, the perfectly normal and mediocre

The toaster threw my toast at me. No. It just made the hot piece of bread pop out and that jumpscared me. This was how my morning started. I sent my cup flying from the counter. Of course, it was filled to the brim with coffee as it exploded on the floor tiles. I yelped cause it burnt my foot and didn’t catch the toast, which promptly landed in the dark puddle. This was going to be a weird day.

may, 26th

writing exercise: free association
the perfectly normal and mediocre

As soon as I opened my eyes, they burned and I closed them again. The alarm wasn’t going off, so I still had time. Just five more minutes. “Hello? I need help!” A male voice sounded muffled from under the bed. “I’m kinda stuck halfway through the vortex. Can’t get my legs out.” My eyes popped open. The room was dark, but my sight adjusted to the darkness. It must be still before sunrise. This wasn’t the first time I heard his pleas. He tried to get my attention before today. My phone was somewhere under the sheets, I tried to find it, moving very carefully. “Hello? Are you awake?”

may, 25th

the perfectly normal and mediocre: a writing exercise

It’s happening again. The air that filled the kitchen smelled of scrambled eggs, as soon as I closed the door. It smelled so delicious, that I instantly yearned for a good hearty meal. I searched for eggs in the fridge, to prepare the dish. Surprisingly, there were none. I had bought a cardboard pack of eight eggs. That had been yesterday. No matter where I looked, there were no eggs left in the fridge, or in the other cupboards. I retraced my steps, in an attempt to force myself to remember. Nothing. I couldn’t think of a place I could have misplaced them.

The Weight Curse

Part 1/ Part 2

‘Leaf in the current, gravitate. Ignorant, until meaning finds you.’

The ocean around me moved, like a summer breeze. The strangest thoughts surfaced. Deep-sea creatures floated towards me. With their long sharp teeth, spikes for ribs and stone cold scales, they brushed my feet. I knew they would. My toes expected the chilly touch. Maybe that’s why I didn’t jump.

Fins broke the surface.

the weight curse

Part 1

It was the clattering in my kitchen that woke me. Stupid cat, I thought and turned under my blanket. Wait. I have no cat! I sat bolt upright and listened, heart pounding. The kitchen clammed up. I croaked a ‘hello’ into the dark apartment.

My dry throat begged for a glass of water and a panic room. Gosh, all these wishes were as likely as an oversized cockroach making me coffee. The air moved. Something smashed on the tile floor. It must be rats. ‘Mr. Burglar, go away. I’m broke.’ 

DEVIL’S PEAK (2)

Part 1 Superstition

– NAMES FOR BLADES –

The sky was still bright enough but caught amber on the west side. Darkness approached, but only I could feel it around me. The silence was accompanying a sense of dread and heaviness on my chest. “We should hurry,” I told Frank.

No birds chirped, no animal rustled the leaves. The longer we had our feet on the trail, the quieter the forest got. We were already far enough, that the commotion from the trailhead didn’t reach us. As if there were no humans at all.

The New Year of the Rabbit

The boat rocked heavily.

That made me trip, not the whiskeys, nor the pills or the beers. Cross my heart! The railing was cold and wet under my grip, and for a moment, I wondered if I should let go of it. The stupid pink rabbit ears slipped and went bye-bye. They took a dive into the big black hungry Hong Kong Bay. Maybe I should jump straight after them, and end this farce.

Triangle of Uncanny

I had Allan’s notebook tucked away in my overcoat. The chain on my lapel glowed in the miserable street light. The gas flame hissed like a feral cat. It barely chased away the darkness, or the autumn fog carried in with the wind from the Hudson.

I popped the chased golden lid of my pocket watch under the glow. The dial showed 10:30 pm. Time to wind up, my gloved fingers twirled the key clumsier than usual. It smelled like it would snow.

Postman

It was a proper summer day, sun laughing from the sky. In the afternoon, it turned sweltering.
The leather bag dug into my sore left shoulder. The chili dog from earlier rebelled, and pressure settled in my stomach. The weather made it hard to breathe. A sure sign, I was getting old, and tired after a late lunch break.
It never bothered me before, whether the heat nor the chili.
The Pied Piper ice truck lurched in the street. Its jingle drowned out the barking dogs. The ice cream was the second-best solution to this blistering heat. The best waited for me in my fridge, a chilled beer and five of its buddies.