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DL: "So what's your trick?" SH: "Well, I

  • DL: "So what's your trick?" SH: "Well, I can knit with my feet" DL: "Socks?" SH: "No,
  • The studio exec looked at Tim Burton. "Wrote this yourself?" Burton beemed, "Yep." The studio exec stared at the treatment written on a pizza box. For the first time in his life
  • the exec was speechless. His flabber was 100% gasted. Burton had apparently used a pizza box to depict a graphic illustration of
  • the Kama Sutra using plush toys and a garden hose. What did it matter anyway? In three hours the lightning would strike turning that stupid corpse back into grim animation. The
  • damned process kept repeating itself, day after miserable day: corpse, undead, corpse, undead, etc. It was a cruel joke, like Prometheus or Sisyphus, and I seemed doomed to witness
  • History repeating itself. Cormac McCarthy and J.G. Ballard were correct. I loved their fiction. Being a witness gave me something to write about in my journal.
  • But witnessing such a major crime changed me. I could keep on writing about but my ptsd was off the chard so I couldn't really do anything else. I looked for help anywhere but the
  • produce section was out of swiss chard. If I didn't find chard soon, I'd become some Lovecraftian horror & all would be for naught, for witness protection could never save me from
  • The Old Ones when my new tattoo saw the Light. Eldritch forces were at play in the subtext; each added phrase was a minefield.
  • Each minefield was a mind game. Each mind game was a new tattoo on my psyche. The Old Ones could see this. But all I could see was their shoes in my face.
Started
2012-04-11 17:03:27
Finished
2016-11-14 13:13:40

2 Comments

  1. Avatar

    Woab Nov 14 2016 @ 13:17

    Feet and socks in fold 1. Shoes in fold 10. We seem to have a toe-hold on something, here.
  2. Avatar

    SlimWhitman Nov 14 2016 @ 16:48

    We have nothing... the Old One's shoe laces control us like astral tentacles from the Yorg Nebula.

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