"SKULL SOCKET FEAR" is an enormously special fast fiction based on this wonderful painting by Martin Wittfooth who has a show right now in Ottawa that runs until the 12th where you can see this in the flesh (in the canvass ?)
So take a five minute break from burning down fire stations and enjoy...
He rolls over onto his sore back and wakes up to the lucid morning light filling his room. His eyes and mouth yawn simultaneously in a stretched expression that his girlfriend hates. "I can just picture your mom telling you as kid, 'Your face is gonna stay like that.' And voila!" Fortunately, she's sound asleep beneath several layers of sheets.
He looks up at the track lighting above the bed; two of the tiny box sockets are empty, starting down at him like the hollow eyes of a skull.
Good morning death, he thinks.
And suddenly he remembers hours upon hours of dreams that flood his stream of consciousness: a big bang that sputters and trips out into billions of years of screwed up evolution, fish with wings, foxes on crane legs, rabbits with turtle shells and women in ponds with fish bowl helmets. The dream ended with the present where he and his girlfriend had anteater noses which they used to rummage about in the earth for sustenance. And in the dream they were going to live forever. Content with their quirks.
Evolution had just suddenly given up on death.
And after he reached the end of this upside down dream story, he was filled with an impossible happiness which ended when his heart stopped. But his eyes remained fixed on the empty sockets above.
Ten minutes later she woke up to find his body.
So take a five minute break from burning down fire stations and enjoy...
SKULL SOCKET FEAR
He rolls over onto his sore back and wakes up to the lucid morning light filling his room. His eyes and mouth yawn simultaneously in a stretched expression that his girlfriend hates. "I can just picture your mom telling you as kid, 'Your face is gonna stay like that.' And voila!" Fortunately, she's sound asleep beneath several layers of sheets.
He looks up at the track lighting above the bed; two of the tiny box sockets are empty, starting down at him like the hollow eyes of a skull.
Good morning death, he thinks.
And suddenly he remembers hours upon hours of dreams that flood his stream of consciousness: a big bang that sputters and trips out into billions of years of screwed up evolution, fish with wings, foxes on crane legs, rabbits with turtle shells and women in ponds with fish bowl helmets. The dream ended with the present where he and his girlfriend had anteater noses which they used to rummage about in the earth for sustenance. And in the dream they were going to live forever. Content with their quirks.
Evolution had just suddenly given up on death.
And after he reached the end of this upside down dream story, he was filled with an impossible happiness which ended when his heart stopped. But his eyes remained fixed on the empty sockets above.
Ten minutes later she woke up to find his body.
posted by kevin spenst at 1:51 PM
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