pete and daisy

by bofa xesjum

pete clark, a barbarian who had never been young, scanned the crowd looking for a victim. out of the corner of his eye he saw daisy wilson, a grandmother from the depths of miles away. under the periphery of the universe that specialized in jokes, he just could not forbear envisioning her obsolescence. quietly - pete was always the quiet type - he held a meeting in his head with his loyal underdemons of terror. pete wsasunaware that officer quiglet was expectantly following his every kinesis. you do not even know what kinesis means, king john, his number one demon, whispered in his cranium. do so, pete thought back explosively. suffer the lost ladies, king john replied evasively. all - all - all -the word, and the world, tumbled through pete’s imploding edification. pete and king john and officer quiglet went back a long way. but daisy was something new - or was she? is anything, or anybody, really new? a nightingale descended on daisy’s shoulder. suddenly pete remembered a joke his grandfather had told him - the first joke he had ever heard. it was a revelation - before that he had never known what a jpke was. an apple was walking own the road, looking for a new hat. but the road was empty, except for an undertaker in a black coat, leading a giraffe on a long leash. with a leash that long, you might as well let the poor beast run wild, the apple said to the undertaker. there might be some truth to that, the undertaker readily agreed. the undertaker let the giraffe go and it ran off over the hills. the apple and the undertaker were left alone with what was left of the joke. pete woke up. daisy was gone. she had gone to alaska with officer quiglet and the undertaker to find the giraffe, who was wanted for murder in the first degree. they had left pete behind as there was no room for him in the limousine. but had they really gone to alaska? maybe they had gone to zanzibar instead. the road stretched out before poor pete. i need an infusion of reality, he thought. before the highway patrol comes along. the rhinoceros is the most dangerous animal in africa, at least it was when the world was young. save it for the judge. there will be a hot time in the old town tonight. for the oranges, not for the apples.

the store

by fred flynn

you will eat in the cafeteria, the same cafeteria as the customers. of course. what is on the menu today? hot dogs, same as any other day, and chili dogs on sunday. how many do i get? it depends on how much you sell. read the contract. i will. but right now i need a nap. all right. but be ready to work as soon as you wake up. the employees dormitory was, naturally, in the middle of the store, along with the cafeteria and the human resources department. when htd-45 woke up, he had trouble getting his socks on his feet. he went outside the store to give himself more room. but he had more and more trouble getting the socks on, and drifted further and further away from the store, and found himself in an abandoned part of the city with empty buildings and cracked sidewalks. somehow he finally got his socks and shoes on and made it back to the store. but the day was already half gone and he had not made a single sale. in the store, employees did not stand behind a counter and wait for customers to select items themselves and bring them to the counter for purchase. the employees circulated among the customers and encouraged them to buy the items on the shelves. the employees then received points based on the number and value of the purchased items. htd-45 was not very good at this. that shoehorn is one of our best items, madam. i don’t wear shoes. this set of colored balloons is perfect for all occasions, but especially office parties. i don’t work in an office. everybody should own one of these back scratchers. they are the talk of the town. i am not everybody. and so forth. how did i ever come to this? htd-45 thought despairingly. is this my destiny? suddenly he woke up. what a strange dream! he was not a clerk in some strange store in a distant dimension - he was an adjunct professor of ninth generation marxism at the university of a————. he had fallen asleep at his desk in his office , and his devoted students were waiting in classroom 75. he got up hurriedly and gathered his notes together. his trailing tendrils almost got caught in the door as he exited into the corridor.

christmas card

by bofa xesjum

my life needs more variety, alexander mused thoughtfully bugs have variety, billy replied tartly. food is consciousness, christopher interrupted rudely. my dreams are stupid, d b thought sadly, but did not say so out loud. alexander, billy, christopher and d b were floating down the river on a raft after the complete destruction of civilization. they had vague memories of how they had come to be on the raft, and had never known each other before being on the raft. how did we get here anyway, billy blurted out. it s a long story, alexander assured him. we have nothing but time, christopher added. on the contrary, d b declared, we have a very limited time before we die of hunger and thirst and privation. silence settled over the raft, broken only by the sound of the sloshing of the water over the side of the raft. i wish we knew who to blame for this situation, alexander finally said. it was all the fault of that jackass ed brown , billy asserted confidently. no, it was frank gray - he started it all, christopher retorted. look out, said d b, here comes grover. grover came through the door, and the wind and rain followed him. have any of you bums seen harry ? grover demanded, striding boldly up to the foursome’s table. the table was littered with styrofoam cups with the letter i printed on them boldly in red. no, alexander said meekly, none of us have seen him since christmas. and he did not even give us any presents, billy added. or even a christmas card, christopher put in. how about you, grover addressed d b, have you seen him lately? not lately. how would you define lately, grover pressed on. we are in for it now, alexander mused sadly. the door opened again, and commissioner johnson entered, brushing snow from the front of his camelshair coat. stop pussyfooting around, he told grover, bring all these clowns down to the waterfront. you heard the commisioner, grover asserted. on your feet. can i finish my coffee? christopher pleaded. no. outside, the night was rent with the banshee wail of sirens. after they had all left, dr kendrick, seated in the corner, finished his coffee and rolled his napkin into a ball. my work here is done, he thought.

exit 4-b

by bofa xesjum

the car turned on to the highway. oliver had left his life behind in the street. as a boy he had loved the rain, especially on saturdays. he hated his dad’s car - a crummy green volkswagen like a hippie girl might drive. he wanted to leave his old life behind. and find a new life on the broad highway. the clouds in the sky made hm think of love. eventually night would fall. he felt he was born to love. even on a cloudy day. he knew there were no hitchhikers any more, but still he dreamed - before he got to exit 4b, it started to rain. oliver’s first girl was a terrible person, and had taught him to hate life. her name was rita cloudsley. why aren’t you a professional hit man,she would say in her lazy way on rainy afternoons. don’t you have any guts? don’t you want to get revenge on this stinking world? oliver was never sure if she was serious. there isn’t any real money in it,he would say. ha! what do you know? then rita’s mom would come home from her shift at applebee’s and they would talk about tv shows and movies, until it was time for oliver to go home and make dinner for his younger brother and two sisters. the rain started falling harder as he approached exit 4b. he saw a person standing by the side of the road. could it be, he thought…

it was the time

by bofa xesjum

it was the time of year when a person went their way to do things. a man in the world has a life in his hand but part of him was a child. he had his eye on a woman in the place of work. a week went by and the case had a point. the government seized the company and a number of groups had a problem. the facts were an animal. if you have to be, do what you say. get it to make go, because you know what it takes come and see me some time. think it looks, if you want to give. use it if you can find it, but tell, don’t ask. it works if it seems to feel. leave a cry but don’t call it good. it was new the first time. but it lasts long so great. with a little of its own other. the old is right but the big is high. the different is small but large. next it will be early but young. it is important for the few to be public . but it is bad for the same to be able. this is what it all comes to. a piece of cake, or a big lump of nothing. and it all gets written in the book. nobody knows what it is for. but the show must go on.

company man

by bofa xesjum

i am sorry, but this thing is a joke. this thing, as you call it, is only a number. the child will keep you company while you try to sort it out. it had been a year since the animal had appeared on the lawn. paul waters had quietly kept his eye on the problem. he was sure there was a way to work it all out. but was the child an agent of the government? he knew the company had its ways. maybe the child was an agent of the company. even though the day theoretically belonged to the government. the hand of fate seemed to point that way. the hand! always the hand! a young executive was watching the scene from behind a quiet tree. he was debating whether to call the government or the company. he had always been a loyal foot soldier of the government. but had dreamed of moving up the ladder to the company. where the real action was. the young executive’s name was franklin joseph lewis. he had never been either a poet or a dreamer. he thought of himself a hard headed person, with his eye on the main chance, his dad hunted moose on the weekends. his mom baked cookies every day except saturday, when she baked brownies. she never baked cakes or pies. she was not a cake or pie person his dad never hunted rabbits he was not a rabbit person. franklin himself never watched football. he had learned to pretend he watched football, and join in the conversations about it with his fellow employees. it was the old army game. now you see it, now you don’t. from behind a quiet tree. waiting - just waiting - for his chance.

cordial highway, part 2

by bofa xesjum

part two of two

to read part one, click here

the broad back of the vice consul disappeared down the corridor to the kitchen and the servants quarters. the queen turned to sam jones with renewed urgency. listen, my friend, at midnight the minister of information, in collaboration with the vice consul and the third secretary, will issue an order closing all the roads out of the kingdom. what is that to me? sam countered airily. i have been down both sides of all these roads before - both into and out of the kingdom. but it means everything to me! the queen implored him. do you not remember the time - just then sam and the queen were interrupted by a young woman with a bland expression on her perfectly round face and carrying a clipboard. i am sorry to interrupt but are you the persons designated as queen catherine of l—————, and sad sam jones. yes, we are, sam answered with a ready smile. and which of you is which? we will let you be the judge of that, the queen replied snarkily. as you wish, the young woman replied without taking her blue eyes off her clipboard. now that we have settled that, was there something you wished to share with us? yes, you have both been assigned new identities. i have two new identities here - which of you takes which one is irrelevant, as long as you each take one. what a bother! all right, let us hear them. later that night, red dooley and wanda wilson are cruising down the interstate - hold it - what does that mean- cruising down the interstate? it means they are driving down the road. why not just say that? the implication is that the road is empty except for themselves. all right, if you say so. they round the bend - the bend? they round a bend - that’s better. and they see a prophet standing beside the road with a large suitcase. does the prophet have a name? howard johnson. what is in the suitcase? red and wanda pull over to find out. are red and wanda authorized persons? red is the sheriff of area 459-p. wanda was just passing through when red offered her a ride. so, what does howard johnson have in the suitcase? suddenly all hell breaks loose. was hell in the sutcase? you sure ask a lot of questions. end of part two