ONE OF ThE THiRTEEN (number 5)
Joshua Kane (number 5) is somewhere else and his feet are touching the floor. As they touch the floor, his soles feeling the wood, conforming to every ridge in the finely grained oak wood. He closes his eyes, feeling the universe under his feet. He closes his eyes, listening to the voices in his mind, creeping through his memories like an uncontrolled vine. Under his rotting skin, he embraces his bones in a sliding caress as he falls through his feet. He is part of the wood floor now, no, he is part of the ceiling. He passes through wires like electricity, the electricity passing through his body in showers of neon-white sparks raining down into space to compete with the brightness of all the stars. Below, Mister Zero sits in a wooden rocking chair.
Mister Zero sits in a wooden rocking chair, wearing impeccably ironed trousers and a crisp new shirt, which is blending into the wood it presses against. Joshua Kane (5) is the walls, the four corners wrapped around this terrible place, his only illumination the thick blue glow of a television screen which makes a sound that will eventually kill Mister Zero.
Joshua Kane (5) is now in the tiles on the floor, he has become the rockers of the wooden rocking chair. The rockers are curved like bows, bowing under the weight of Mister Zero who sits there, his wrinkled skin pulled tight over his face in homage to death and exfoliation. Mister Zero is chanting. Joshua Kane watches and listens. “ Muck and pain, toil and strain. Children’s tongues. Use the cane. Look in the cellar for things long forgotten. Deep frowns and long bellows and thoughts that are rotten.” Mister Zero starts to giggle and increases his rocking, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, increasing the pace, rocking and giggling. Rocking and giggling.
Joshua Kane (5) flows through the wood, becoming the wood becoming the floor and being part of past crimes as he tastes the stale blood and flesh of the dead one’s, who’s memories and fear linger in the grain. Deep in the basement. Joshua Kane (5) watches Mister Zero rocking in the chair. Then he melts and meditates into the sky. He floats, he melts, and he fades into the green earth, the dark and stinking earth. Joshua Kane (5) savours every moment, every taste, every perfume, the stink of death and the maggots of life.
The earth has become dry. It has not rained, and he creeps through the dried mud, Joshua Kane (5) can see the under the soil, he can see through the soil. He is the ground covering the decaying corpse of a woman who stares back at him "my name is Amanda, are you lonely today? Do all the living annoy you? Lets play a game," she whispers to Joshua Kane (5). Her mouth does not move, her eyes have no life; in his mind he sees her point towards a monstrous assembly of cold, beautiful steel that is hidden in a locked room of the basement. The basement where Mister Zero rocks on the rocking chair. Joshua Kane (5) is the dark oil staining the ground, he can smell the odour of warm rubber and oil, sweet and piercing and nauseating. Amanda’s dead eyes stare at Joshua Kane (5) "Clickety Klack, Klickety Clack! Don’t look back, don’t look back. Don’t look forwards either, Kane. All that’s there is muck and pain.” Amanda fades into the distance as Joshua Kane (5) creeps on, spreading himself further into the earth, into the concrete, into the MurkyWorld of Mister Zero. Joshua Kane (5) can still hear the corpse of Amanda whisper to him, fading, her voice fading.
“ Klicketyklack, klicketyklack, on the bus, on the train, all day at work, then do it again. Tomorrow………”
Joshua Kane (5) is now miles under the earth, tumbling fluidly in a sea of molten stone. He glides through the waves; the currents push him toward the surface. He is the liquid lava becoming flesh, becoming corruptible as he enters into the shape of a tower that covers a few dirty rags spread lightly on the basement floor on which a young woman sleeps. Then her eyes open, she looks through him, he is not there, she cannot see him, yet he is there and he feels her pain.
Dirty rags are one with the earth; they are not separate, therefore they are light. They are what they lie on. All the colours of the rainbow, the hues, dimmed and warmed by the coupling with the earth. They are perfect.
The curve of a wineglass lying discarded on the floor sparkles in the light, the light from a small, so very very small stained glass window, scattering rays that flash about the room before piercing her eyes. "I used to be a little girl." She says to no one, yet she senses him there. She is tied and bound, her mascara from tears long dried, stains her face. "Why is beauty paired with pain?" She shakes her head, the motion turning hair into shimmering cascades of obsidian rippling with diamonds, each strand wrapping about her face as a thunderstorm crashes outside. The thunder invades the sky, concentric circles of sound spreading effortlessly, brushing clouds aside with ease. Mister Zero enters the room, he picks up the wineglass, and the remaining dark red liquid touches his lips.
The dark red liquid touches his lips and silently gurgles like a mountain stream over his teeth like pebbles, the stream sliding over the rough riverbed of his tongue before falling down his throat. The girl watches Mister Zero. Mister Zero gazes at her, and speaks to her in an angry and sinister tone.
“ I AM DROWNING IN THE SWILL OF CHOPPED UP HOGS. I AM HALF THE ANCHOVY BURIED IN THE CONGEALED CHEESE OF POPULAR CULTURE.”
Then he unzips his crisply ironed trousers and takes out his penis and starts to urinate over the young woman. The woman accepts this indignation, drinking the urine, licking the floor clean. Joshua Kane (5) watches. He is floating. He is air. He is a very naughty man. A spy! A subversive monkey man, with a mind concealed below the crusty subliminal wounds of this earth’s huge puss-filled arse.
The liquid falls to Joshua Kane’s (5) feet, each toe tingling in its separateness from the others, and air currents brush softly against his skin. His feet touch the floor, every beat of his heart pushing his blood under his feet, into the earth.
His feet touch the floor. He fades away. He is one of the thirteen and he is number five. He awakes in his own home, in his own bed; he can still taste the blood and the piss. He can see her, the young woman, and a slave to Mister Zero. Joshua Kane (5) considers phoning Mister Zero, when his mobile phone suddenly beeps. He picks it up, looks at it and sees that he has received a text message from Mister Zero.
ARE YOU SICK AND TWISTED? I AM.
Joshua Kane (5) smiles. Yes. Joshua Kane (5) agrees with the question. He is sick and twisted, for he is one of the thirteen and there was much to do. He texts back to Mister Zero.
LISTEN. LISTEN. THE NOISE WILL NOT KILL YOU. IF YOU DO NOT LISTEN. THE NOISE WILL KILL YOU. MARGARET FRIGHT LOVES YOU.
Joshua Kane (5) thinks of the young woman, her name is known to him. He imagines strangling her. He imagines pissing on her and then he falls asleep.
ThE ENd
Joshua Kane (number 5) is somewhere else and his feet are touching the floor. As they touch the floor, his soles feeling the wood, conforming to every ridge in the finely grained oak wood. He closes his eyes, feeling the universe under his feet. He closes his eyes, listening to the voices in his mind, creeping through his memories like an uncontrolled vine. Under his rotting skin, he embraces his bones in a sliding caress as he falls through his feet. He is part of the wood floor now, no, he is part of the ceiling. He passes through wires like electricity, the electricity passing through his body in showers of neon-white sparks raining down into space to compete with the brightness of all the stars. Below, Mister Zero sits in a wooden rocking chair.
Mister Zero sits in a wooden rocking chair, wearing impeccably ironed trousers and a crisp new shirt, which is blending into the wood it presses against. Joshua Kane (5) is the walls, the four corners wrapped around this terrible place, his only illumination the thick blue glow of a television screen which makes a sound that will eventually kill Mister Zero.
Joshua Kane (5) is now in the tiles on the floor, he has become the rockers of the wooden rocking chair. The rockers are curved like bows, bowing under the weight of Mister Zero who sits there, his wrinkled skin pulled tight over his face in homage to death and exfoliation. Mister Zero is chanting. Joshua Kane watches and listens. “ Muck and pain, toil and strain. Children’s tongues. Use the cane. Look in the cellar for things long forgotten. Deep frowns and long bellows and thoughts that are rotten.” Mister Zero starts to giggle and increases his rocking, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, increasing the pace, rocking and giggling. Rocking and giggling.
Joshua Kane (5) flows through the wood, becoming the wood becoming the floor and being part of past crimes as he tastes the stale blood and flesh of the dead one’s, who’s memories and fear linger in the grain. Deep in the basement. Joshua Kane (5) watches Mister Zero rocking in the chair. Then he melts and meditates into the sky. He floats, he melts, and he fades into the green earth, the dark and stinking earth. Joshua Kane (5) savours every moment, every taste, every perfume, the stink of death and the maggots of life.
The earth has become dry. It has not rained, and he creeps through the dried mud, Joshua Kane (5) can see the under the soil, he can see through the soil. He is the ground covering the decaying corpse of a woman who stares back at him "my name is Amanda, are you lonely today? Do all the living annoy you? Lets play a game," she whispers to Joshua Kane (5). Her mouth does not move, her eyes have no life; in his mind he sees her point towards a monstrous assembly of cold, beautiful steel that is hidden in a locked room of the basement. The basement where Mister Zero rocks on the rocking chair. Joshua Kane (5) is the dark oil staining the ground, he can smell the odour of warm rubber and oil, sweet and piercing and nauseating. Amanda’s dead eyes stare at Joshua Kane (5) "Clickety Klack, Klickety Clack! Don’t look back, don’t look back. Don’t look forwards either, Kane. All that’s there is muck and pain.” Amanda fades into the distance as Joshua Kane (5) creeps on, spreading himself further into the earth, into the concrete, into the MurkyWorld of Mister Zero. Joshua Kane (5) can still hear the corpse of Amanda whisper to him, fading, her voice fading.
“ Klicketyklack, klicketyklack, on the bus, on the train, all day at work, then do it again. Tomorrow………”
Joshua Kane (5) is now miles under the earth, tumbling fluidly in a sea of molten stone. He glides through the waves; the currents push him toward the surface. He is the liquid lava becoming flesh, becoming corruptible as he enters into the shape of a tower that covers a few dirty rags spread lightly on the basement floor on which a young woman sleeps. Then her eyes open, she looks through him, he is not there, she cannot see him, yet he is there and he feels her pain.
Dirty rags are one with the earth; they are not separate, therefore they are light. They are what they lie on. All the colours of the rainbow, the hues, dimmed and warmed by the coupling with the earth. They are perfect.
The curve of a wineglass lying discarded on the floor sparkles in the light, the light from a small, so very very small stained glass window, scattering rays that flash about the room before piercing her eyes. "I used to be a little girl." She says to no one, yet she senses him there. She is tied and bound, her mascara from tears long dried, stains her face. "Why is beauty paired with pain?" She shakes her head, the motion turning hair into shimmering cascades of obsidian rippling with diamonds, each strand wrapping about her face as a thunderstorm crashes outside. The thunder invades the sky, concentric circles of sound spreading effortlessly, brushing clouds aside with ease. Mister Zero enters the room, he picks up the wineglass, and the remaining dark red liquid touches his lips.
The dark red liquid touches his lips and silently gurgles like a mountain stream over his teeth like pebbles, the stream sliding over the rough riverbed of his tongue before falling down his throat. The girl watches Mister Zero. Mister Zero gazes at her, and speaks to her in an angry and sinister tone.
“ I AM DROWNING IN THE SWILL OF CHOPPED UP HOGS. I AM HALF THE ANCHOVY BURIED IN THE CONGEALED CHEESE OF POPULAR CULTURE.”
Then he unzips his crisply ironed trousers and takes out his penis and starts to urinate over the young woman. The woman accepts this indignation, drinking the urine, licking the floor clean. Joshua Kane (5) watches. He is floating. He is air. He is a very naughty man. A spy! A subversive monkey man, with a mind concealed below the crusty subliminal wounds of this earth’s huge puss-filled arse.
The liquid falls to Joshua Kane’s (5) feet, each toe tingling in its separateness from the others, and air currents brush softly against his skin. His feet touch the floor, every beat of his heart pushing his blood under his feet, into the earth.
His feet touch the floor. He fades away. He is one of the thirteen and he is number five. He awakes in his own home, in his own bed; he can still taste the blood and the piss. He can see her, the young woman, and a slave to Mister Zero. Joshua Kane (5) considers phoning Mister Zero, when his mobile phone suddenly beeps. He picks it up, looks at it and sees that he has received a text message from Mister Zero.
ARE YOU SICK AND TWISTED? I AM.
Joshua Kane (5) smiles. Yes. Joshua Kane (5) agrees with the question. He is sick and twisted, for he is one of the thirteen and there was much to do. He texts back to Mister Zero.
LISTEN. LISTEN. THE NOISE WILL NOT KILL YOU. IF YOU DO NOT LISTEN. THE NOISE WILL KILL YOU. MARGARET FRIGHT LOVES YOU.
Joshua Kane (5) thinks of the young woman, her name is known to him. He imagines strangling her. He imagines pissing on her and then he falls asleep.
ThE ENd
No comments:
Post a Comment