[MISC] An Abecedary of Villainy #6

Jamie Rosen jamie.rosen at sunlife.com
Fri Feb 18 17:01:12 PST 2005


PqR          An
sTu           Abecedary
VwX                   of
yZA                    Villainy
bCdEfGhIjKlMnOpQrStUvWxYzaBcDeFgHiJkLmNoPqRsTuVwXyZ vol 1, #­6
"Flesh President"

For every action, an equal and opposite reaction; the angle of
incidence equals the angle of reflection; what goes up must come down;
energy cannot be created or destroyed. These laws of the universe have
but one thing in common -- they were all repealed by the Flesh


The sky exploded with a feathering of moths on Tuesday the Green of
July. Mandy Evervescent ruffled her hands through her hair to keep the
paper-winged insects from taking up residence on her scalp, afraid of
their noted thirst for blood and brain cells, and dashed to the
relative safety of a bombed-out bus shelter.

Inside, puddles of liquid ran upward to the ceiling lights, and Mandy
picked her way through the detritus of discarded rats and telephone
books made obsolete by science. There was a musty, fusty odour in the
air, the sort of scent that spoke of long-forgotten trust and
misbegotten rust-coloured memories. A loose pile of telephone pages
gathered in the corner to watch her progress, whispering numbers and
names amongst themselves in a secret coded language no one else could
understand. Something about the place made her hungry -- hungry for
pizza -- and she let her hand slip through her stomach to massage her
appetite away.

Satisfied, she found the cobwebbed-over entrance to the underground,
where she slipped across the gelatinous surface and found herself
amidst the emaciated skeletons of subway cars. A family of troglodytes
scurried out of the third compartment as she approached, and
disappeared into the gloaming. The thought of those creatures having
once been men brought a hysterical titter to her lips, but she fought
it down with thoughts of paper bags and the image of the Madonna
painted on a piece of toast.

Inside the final car of the train, she found the great gross pendant
hanging down from the cracked but burning lights. There were hairs the
size and consistency of cooked spaghetti hanging from the junction
where the steel meet the skin, and its two plump, stubby arms held a
tea cup and saucer before its faceless surface.

"Oh do not bother me, little one," it intoned with the voice of a
cleric. "I am tired of all this fuss."

Wordlessly, Mandy Evervescent pulled a steak knife from the folds of
her apron and approached the Flesh President.

"My word." Its voice was entirely without emotion.

She clambered up the rocky debris and began to saw away with the jagged
blade. Instead of blood, plaster dust and tiny army men began to spill
out from the President's veins, coating her skin and clothes.

Halfway through, she reached in with her free arm and pulled out a
handfull of complaining frogs, which hopped away into the shadows that
surrounded the subway. Her wristwatch snagged for a moment on an idea,
but tore loose from her wrist and left blood dripping down her
fingertips. Mindless, she continued on with the sawing, until the Flesh
President fell silent and limp to the floor, its dishware shattering
into a thousand larger pieces. The skin shrivelled, deflated like a
rubber dinghy abandoned on a rocky beach.

"Now," it said at length, its voice the raspy grain of a lost Victrola
recording. "Now."

And a thousand screaming seagulls turned back into the sun.


Author's Note:

There are some days I just hate the written word. There are others
where I love the written word, but hate the things we do to it. Today I
wanted to do something different; not something new -- nothing is new
-- nothing I do is new because I'm not nearly so innovative as I once
thought I could be. I've learned that now. I've given up on innovation,
for the moment, and just do whatever seems right at the time. Well, the
time seemed right for this.

Now my time is done. See you next week!

Copyright 2005 Jamie Rosen

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