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Friday, May 18, 2018
Missing Person Notice
The [ ] Police Service is asking the public to help them locate 19-year-old Daisy "Left-Feet" Limber.
She was last seen walking westbound on Vallarta Street towards Duke Drive at 1 a.m. on Tuesday. She entered her home at 1:10 a.m. and has not been seen since.
She is Caucasian, five-foot-six, weighs 140 pounds and has a slight build. She has a tattoo of an abstracted Mona Lisa on her left shoulder and walks with a small limp in her right foot.
She was wearing a blue sundress, brown glasses, and black tennis shoes.
Anyone with information is asked to contact [ ] police at [ ] or Crime Stoppers at 613-233-8477 (TIPS) or toll free at 1-800-222-8477.
For more information, please visit: [ ].
People have this habit of saying that someone is "on Death's door". Julian's thought is perhaps a bit more fanciful- he believes that people are more or less always in Death's hallway. In Death's maze, maybe. You're already there, but you never know where the next turn is going and then- bang!- suddenly you'll be at a dead end and there's no more you to speak of. Itty-bitty pieces of you, sort of scattered about the place like the fragments of a popped balloon.
Short Eric, the only other guy in Marie Kepler's Figure Drawing 101 class (Doctor Keys' Cool-lege of Anart, EST 2008) besides Julian and Tall Eric, believes Julian’s theory wholeheartedly. Julian is his best friend, after all, and Short Eric believes that best friends stick by each other, even with weird theories. So here he is, peering at the bumpy cloth on the table in Julian's dorm room. Tall Eric couldn't make it, which Short Eric is grateful for; he hates being called Short Eric. Marie Kepler, a warmhearted girl with a penchant for making friends, a love of bird facts, and a knack for some of that good graffiti art swings her legs in the folding chair beside him. Left-Feet Limber sits behind them on the bed, arms crossed, leg bouncing in impatience.
Julian stands at the front of the table, looking about as excited as Short Eric has ever seen him. "Alright, guys," he says right as the clock hits 11:30 pm. "I made my first anart piece. It's official, it's done, and it's a critique on the, the sort of boundary between life and death, like all awesome things are. I think you guys are gonna like this. Let's get to it."
He pulls off the cloth with a flourish. Underneath is a smooth, pebble-sized stone and a container of glitter. Eric leans forward for a better look. Nope, still definitely a stone.
Julian looks at them expectantly. Left-Feet speaks up first.
"A rock?" She says dubiously, and Julian grins.
"Correction, friend. A pet rock. It eats glitter. I have given so-called life to a creation of my own- but wait, there's more." He sprinkles the glitter liberally on the stone.
Nothing happens.
(there's more after this)
Friday, May 21, 2018
(there's something here)
Missing Person Notice
(and here)
The [ ] Police Service is asking the public to help them locate 45-year-old Tyson Burque…
(here too. consider the pacing of the vignettes.)
… She was last seen…
"Twenty-eight people disappeared in a goddamn IKEA, where in the hell are they going?" He fell into his desk chair and rubbed his temples.
Monday, May 28, 2018…
"We've completed the tests on the sentient furniture, ma'am, and there's good news and bad news. The good news is that the only thing eating people seems to be a specific IKEA table design, easily phased out. The bad news is it's not just furniture anymore that's becoming sentient."
… 68-year-old Donna Webb…
"What do you mean it has to be put together right?"
… 4-year-old twins Kinsey and Kalie and their 28-year-old-mother…
The broad-shouldered man took in a great, shuddering breath. The dresser had been chopped to pieces- the axe in his hand was coated in drying brown blood. He supposed it was the blood that did it, really. Since when did dressers bleed?
He calmly told his son, still cowering in the corner of his playroom, to turn around. Then he threw up.
… asking the public…
(and a last one.)
… asking the public…
Julian- skeletal, bloated, ill, dazed- sits alone in a bare, concrete expanse. Anything with more volume than a hardback book has the potential to come alive, now, and it's dangerous to be around objects anymore. Sure, it seems like only the tables will eat humans, so that's good- people have taken to eating on carpets- but now chairs run like rabbits and clay pots have mating calls and everything is feral, carries diseases, will bite if you come too close.
The problem at first seemed to be that everything was moving and growling and fighting. This turned out to be wrong. The problem was feeding an infinite amount of new animals- animals that were already intruding into your home and eating each other, as well as the family pets. You could kill them, but the problem was the sheer multitude- and if you left them in too big of pieces, they'd just revive as chunks. A whole new ecosystem, an entirely different set of food chains, and a new world order to get used to.
Julian feels like God on the sixth day. He just wants to rest. He's tired all the time, now.
He lies down on the smooth concrete and stares up at the sky. If Death's a maze, he's found the everlooping path in the center. His life's greatest accomplishment- a living rock. It seems so fucking stupid now. Who would have ever thought it'd turn out this way?
He wants to go home. It's more of a feeling in the pit of his stomach than a thought. A yearning, maybe. A heartfelt wish.
Instead, he stays. Minutes turn to hours. No one shows up. There's no one to show up for him anymore, and that's probably for the best. He's already messed up this much. Why would he want anyone to give him a chance to do so more?
Hours turn to days. He closes his eyes. This is what he wants now. This is what he deserves.
Dead end.
