Month: May 2013

My brother Abe and I traveled with three dogs into a strange sort of place. We entered a rickety house on the outskirts of winter. The white paint on the walls outside and within was cracked, peeling in bits. The wood curled along the seams. It was an empty, lonely place. There was a black pug, the gray borozi, and perhaps a white poodle. We walked through the house, from empty room to empty room. The only remaining path was a set of steps to the basement. There, we found an old dining table. The door locked behind us. “Up, this way,” I said. We helped the pug, the borozi, and the poodle climb up through a broken window onto the dry, frozen ground above. I gave my brother a boost and he too emerged outside. I returned to the basement interior and splayed out across the dining table, naked. A woman appeared as an outline in space. She rubbed her hands over me until it felt good and then continued rubbing further above. Her bony fingers wrapped around my throat. She tried to force a dark liquor down my gullet. She wheezed as she said, “Drink me, drink me.” The fumes lingered above my face like smog. When she ran out of liquor she stopped and began to weep. I then choked her, her body now in place of mine on the table. I killed her and exploded into a disgusting ball of muscle. I escaped the basement by splintering the basement door. I found old hiking clothes inside a closet on the upper floor and returned to my brother and the dogs. “He’s gone,” said Abe. The pug had been kidnapped away from us. We walked to a nearby market hub. It was busy lanes and people from all over the world. We asked around, describing the pug. It was a compact creature, crushed in from end to end. It was slightly older. Gray hairs encircled its muzzle. No one had seen anything. We were at a loss until Abe recognized a man walking into a storefront. He wore thick black-framed glasses and trimmed his beard into the style of a goatee. Inside we found the beginning of a poker game. An old woman sat at the head of the table. She wore a crushed velvet robe and had long, painted fingernails. “Play a game?” she asked. We sat and played for information about the pug. Time passed and our money was low, but the old woman had stacks of gold coins piled before her. Time passed again and she had few coins remaining. They appear to have been distributed evenly across the table. My brother was drunk and when I looked over he motioned his hand across his neck to indicate it was time to go. We stood and took our winnings. John Candy appeared and gave us our coins. “What about our dog?” we asked. “He’ll be waiting for you at home,” he said. We walked outside into the empty halls of the marketplace. The other dogs were gone. There was nothing else to do but walk home.

My brother Abe and I traveled with three dogs into a strange sort of place. We entered a rickety house on the outskirts of winter. The white paint on the walls outside and within was cracked, peeling in bits. The wood curled along the seams. It was an empty, lonely place. There was a black pug, the gray borozi, and perhaps a white poodle. We walked through the house, from empty room to empty room. The only remaining path was a set of steps to the basement. There, we found an old dining table. The door locked behind us. “Up, this way,” I said. We helped the pug, the borozi, and the poodle climb up through a broken window onto the dry, frozen ground above. I gave my brother a boost and he too emerged outside. I returned to the basement interior and splayed out across the dining table, naked. A woman appeared as an outline in space. She rubbed her hands over me until it felt good and then continued rubbing further above. Her bony fingers wrapped around my throat. She tried to force a dark liquor down my gullet. She wheezed as she said, “Drink me, drink me.” The fumes lingered above my face like smog. When she ran out of liquor she stopped and began to weep. I then choked her, her body now in place of mine on the table. I killed her and exploded into a disgusting ball of muscle. I escaped the basement by splintering the basement door. I found old hiking clothes inside a closet on the upper floor and returned to my brother and the dogs. “He’s gone,” said Abe. The pug had been kidnapped away from us. We walked to a nearby market hub. It was busy lanes and people from all over the world. We asked around, describing the pug. It was a compact creature, crushed in from end to end. It was slightly older. Gray hairs encircled its muzzle. No one had seen anything. We were at a loss until Abe recognized a man walking into a storefront. He wore thick black-framed glasses and trimmed his beard into the style of a goatee. Inside we found the beginning of a poker game. An old woman sat at the head of the table. She wore a crushed velvet robe and had long, painted fingernails. “Play a game?” she asked. We sat and played for information about the pug. Time passed and our money was low, but the old woman had stacks of gold coins piled before her. Time passed again and she had few coins remaining. They appear to have been distributed evenly across the table. My brother was drunk and when I looked over he motioned his hand across his neck to indicate it was time to go. We stood and took our winnings. John Candy appeared and gave us our coins. “What about our dog?” we asked. “He’ll be waiting for you at home,” he said. We walked outside into the empty halls of the marketplace. The other dogs were gone. There was nothing else to do but walk home.